AN: Thank you once more for all of your wonderous reviews. I just love you guys. Lots and lots of love happening here. This chapter was actually supposed to be longer, but I thought I'd rambled long enough. Also, this chapter is dedicated to my neighbors who have outrageously loud sex at all hours of the night and wake me up, causing me to write fanfic until I can fall asleep once again.

Enjoy!

Chapter Nine

Calleigh had read somewhere that some pregnant women seem to 'pop' suddenly—almost overnight. She had been keeping her fingers crossed that it wouldn't happen to her—that she would have time to progressively gather enough maternity clothes to get her through until July.

But as she looked at herself in the mirror after her morning shower, Calleigh could see that that probably wasn't going to be an option. She sighed and vaguely wondered if she had anything that would fit over her suddenly enormous belly. By the time Eric was finished getting ready, she had dug out a pair of black track pants but could not manage to locate a shirt to go with it.

He watched with amusement as she struggled with a t-shirt, practically begging it not to roll up over her bump. She caught his grin in the mirror and shot him a glare. "It's not funny, Eric," she insisted. "This is a serious problem—if I don't have anything to wear, I can't go to work."

He raised an eyebrow. "Cal, come on. You look fine."

"Sure, fine if I'm going to the gym. And even then I wouldn't wear something this skin tight," she tugged on the shirt again. "It's hopeless—I'm going to have to buy new clothes."

Eric came up behind her and rested his hands on her stomach. He kissed her cheek and rested his chin on her shoulder. "New clothes you can put in your new closet."

Calleigh smiled at the memory of the house they had just closed on. "Walk-in closets," she sighed with contentment, momentarily forgetting the problem of her diminishing wardrobe.

"Mmhmm," Eric dropped another kiss onto her jaw. "Walk-in closets," his kisses moved to just below her ear. "Granite countertops," her neck. "And best of all," he breathed against her skin, "an in—"

"—ground pool," Calleigh finished with him, unable to keep the smile off of her face. "Lucas is going to flip."

"Yeah, thank God for a volatile real estate market, huh?"

"You can say that again," Calleigh turned in his arms and met his lips with hers. He pulled her close and deepened the kiss, stopping only when her eyes flitted open and landed on the clock. She pulled away quickly. "Oh my God—we're late."

"We are?" he asked, highly disappointed.

"We are," she assured him, sliding her feet into the most comfortable shoes she could find.

"What about your uh…" he motioned to her very casual appearance. "Wardrobe issues?"

Calleigh shot him an unimpressed eyebrow. "I'll just work in the field all day, or down in my lab—far, far away from people and anyone I might make an impression on."

Eric laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, God forbid you let anyone think you're actually pregnant."

She couldn't help but wonder, as they grabbed travel mugs of coffee and tea and loaded themselves into the car, if he was more serious than he was letting on.

Horatio stopped them at reception, sending Eric with Natalia on a call-out to the Grove. His kind eyes fell on his ballistics expert. "Calleigh, you're…"

She sighed. "I know, I know this is not appropriate to wear to work but things have been so crazy lately," she gave another hard tug on her shirt, willing it to stay down. "I haven't had time to go and buy anything new."

The corner of his mouth turned up in a grin. "I was just going to mention that you," he paused and allowed his eyes to twitch her belly before returning to her face, "you seem much more pregnant than you did last week."

Calleigh gave another cavernous sigh. "Well, Saturday did mark the start of month five. I've barely been keeping track what with everything that's been going on and then we're moving next weekend and it's just…" she trailed off, looking thoroughly exhausted.

Horatio gave another smile. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Aside from keeping me in the lab all day?"

He looked surprised. "Really?"

"If you wouldn't mind. I would just be more comfortable—at least until I can buy some new clothes."

"Well make sure you don't wait too long to do that," he commented, a hint of humor in his voice. "You're my secret weapon in interrogation."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "Well they definitely won't see me comin' now, that's for sure."

"That's what I'm counting on," he said as his pager went off. "I'll see you later."

"Okay, I'll be in my lab."

She stopped in the break room to grab a muffin and some more hot water for her tea before heading down the back hallway and down a few steps to where a pile of cases, several bags of evidence, and her beautiful, smiling gun case were waiting for her. Calleigh left her tea to steep and picked up the first case file homicide had left on her desk.

She was perusing the photos, making mental notes on the muzzle stamp when she felt it. It felt like something had slithered across her stomach. She stopped reading and waited for a few moments before it happened: a small, definitive push from the inside to the right side. A moment later, she felt something similar from the other side. The file fell from her hands as a shocked smile came over her face. All at once, the house expenses and the new clothes and the college funds didn't seem all that important. Calleigh placed both hands on her belly and stared at it with a tenderness she hadn't felt before. "Hey, guys," she breathed softly. "Thanks for the wake-up call."

0x0x0

Over the next week, while Calleigh adapted quickly to the sudden constant movement of her babies inside of her, neither she nor Eric could adjust to coming home to see their other child being spoiled rotten daily by his Abuela.

"Mama," Eric exclaimed, watching with dismay as the duo came through the door carrying bag after bag of clothing. "You don't have to keep doing this. We can take of it."

She waved away her son's words. "Nonsense. You two have enough to worry about without having to replace all of his things."

"Chlorinda, we really can take care of it," Calleigh reminded gently, unleashing her hair from its tortoise shell clip. "You've done too much for us already."

The older woman smiled and closed the door behind her grandson. "There's no such thing as too much, querida," she said firmly. "Let me help."

Eric sighed and kissed his mother's cheek. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

"You'd starve, of course," Chlorinda said simply; Eric smiled and grabbed a few of the bags, following Lucas up the stairs. Chlorinda turned back to Calleigh. "It's thanks to my good Cuban food that those babies are getting big and healthy."

Calleigh smiled and chose not to mention that it was thanks to the good Cuban food that she spent most of her nights awake with heartburn. "That reminds me, Chlorinda, I want to cook you and Pavel dinner on Saturday night."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," Calleigh nodded firmly. "You've both been nothing but wonderful, and Eric's right—I don't know what we would have done without you."

"It was nothing," she promised. "Nothing at all."

"Well still, we really don't have anything to give you in return, but I would love to cook dinner our last night here—would that be alright?"

Her mother-in-law came over to the table where Calleigh was seated and kissed her forehead. "Of course it is. I'm just sorry that Saturday is going to be your last night here—I've loved having you."

"You'll be happy to have some peace and quiet, I'm sure."

Chlorinda smiled. "Something that's going to be in short supply for you all too soon, I'm afraid." Gently, she placed a hand on Calleigh's belly and gave a little laugh. "Feels like these two are going to give Lucas a run for his money on the soccer field."

Calleigh laughed and ran her hands over her belly again. Despite all there was to worry about, and all she couldn't control, she couldn't help but feel the first real flushes of hope and excitement.

0x0x0

If there was one thing Lucas Delko hated, it was a trip to the grocery store. Doctors, dentists, infinite Easter vigil church services? Fine, no problem. But tell him he was going to the grocery store and you could expect a king-sized order of attitude.

"Mom, this is stupid—why couldn't I just go to CSI with Dad?" he asked, his voice dripping with disdain.

She raised an eyebrow. "And do what all day?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Not be here?"

The hairs on the back of Calleigh's neck stood on end as she rounded the cart into the next aisle. She stopped and looked behind her—no one there but the average collection of soccer moms and old men, shuffling through the pasta and rice aisle. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her.

"Mom?" Lucas tugged on her hand. "Mom, are you okay?"

She blinked and shook the thought from her head. She was being paranoid—she was at a grocery store, for God's sake. No one would be stupid enough to try something in such a public place. And if they did, she was still carrying her off-duty .38. "I'm fine," she told her son, plastering on a smile. "What else do we need?"

Returning to his contemptuous state, Lucas looked at the list clutched in his hand. "Chicken—can I go get it?"

She shook her head. "It's right at the end of this aisle—stay with my purse, I'll be back in two seconds."

Calleigh looked behind them once again—the aisle was still empty—and made her way slowly to the end of the row and grabbed a large package of chicken. Her eyes scanned left to right, searching for anyone who might look even slightly suspicious. She found no one and moved her eyes back to her own cart.

Her own empty cart.

Lucas was nowhere to be seen.

The chicken fell from her hands as she willed herself to stay calm. She could feel her heart rate rising and a sweat break out along her hairline and on her palms. "Lucas?" she called, willing her voice to stay steady. "Lucas, where are you?" When she received no immediate answer, Calleigh took a few steps forward, her breathing becoming erratic. "Lucas!" she yelled, making her way to the cart. Don't touch anything, Calleigh, she reminded herself. It might be evidence. Trying to shove the possibility from her mind, she abandoned the cart and stalked toward the aisle closest to her. "Lucas Timothy Delko!" she shouted, trying to sound more angry than panicked.

His head of messy curls popped around the corner. "What?"

Something gave out in Calleigh's chest, nearly knocking her over with relief. She ran to him and grabbed his shoulders. "Don't you ever do that again, do you understand me?"

"Do what?"

"I told you to wait by the cart and not to move. What were you doing? Do you want somebody to steal you?" Calleigh could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"You forgot to get breadcrumbs," he managed, his own eyes welling from being scolded. "I was just trying to help." He held up the blue box of breadcrumbs and the grocery list.

Calleigh tried to keep up her front of admonishment for a few more moments before she gave up and pulled him tightly to her. "Don't do that anymore," she said quietly. "You scared me to death."

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, still pressed against her. "I really was just trying to help."

She sighed and released him. "I know you were—but Luke," she crouched to be at eye level with him, "you can't just wander off without telling me, okay? There are a lot of bad people out there who would want to take a little boy like you."

Lucas grew pensive. "Like that man who hurt Katie?"

Calleigh nodded solemnly. "Yes, like him. And there are a lot more like him out there—that's why Dad and I work so hard to keep you safe. We don't want anything to happen to you—got it?" He nodded and she reached out a mothering hand to smooth back his curls. "Good," she said softly before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

They had been through the checkout line and were heading toward the car when Lucas spoke up again. "Mom, do you know that man?"

Calleigh's brow furrowed as she looked down at her son. "What man, baby?"

"That man," Lucas pointed across the parking lot at a dark blue truck. Calleigh squinted but only managed to catch a glimpse of a jacket before the driver's side door slammed shut. "He's gone now—but he was there a minute ago."

"No," she shook her head. "Why would you think I know him?"

"Well, I saw him a bunch of times in the grocery store—and he asked me if we found a new house yet."

Calleigh's blood ran cold. "You talked to him?"

"No!" Lucas insisted, his eyes growing wider. "I mean, I told him I wasn't allowed to talk to strangers."

"When did you see him?"

"When I was getting the breadcrumbs—before I got in trouble."

"He asked you if we found a new house?" she repeated, trying again not to panic. "Why would he ask that?"

Lucas shrugged. "He said he knew what happened and he wanted to know if we had a new house yet."

She looked back to where she had seen the truck, but it had pulled away. Calleigh hurried Lucas to the car and back to Eric's parents. No matter how she tried, for the rest of the day, she found she could not get warm.

0x0x0

The move to the new house was hectic, as could be expected, with a slow-moving Calleigh, a rambunctious seven year-old zooming around the house, begging to go for a swim, and a bickering set of movers (Frank and Ryan) shuffling all of the furniture off of the UHaul. But it was managed without serious incident and after a few days things had almost returned to normal.

Maxine stopped over early the next Saturday with a garbage bag full of maternity clothes and an old magazine of nursery ideas. "I don't know if this will help," she said, dragging the bag up the stairs behind Calleigh. "But I thought it could give you a few ideas."

Calleigh accepted both of her gifts with equal gratitude. "You're a lifesaver," she breathed, dropping down onto the bed to sort through her new temporary wardrobe.

"I'm sorry if they're hideous," Maxine apologized for the clothes. "But most maternity clothes are." She watched as Calleigh began to pick through a few tops. "I gained weight all over when I was pregnant," she explained of the plus-size tops and jeans. "But you seem to be all baby—or, babies, I guess. Have you found out what you're having?"

"I know!" Eric called gleefully from the master bathroom, where he'd been painting all morning.

"Don't you say another word!" Calleigh exclaimed, pointing a finger in his direction.

Maxine raised an eyebrow. "What's going on here?"

"He wanted to know and I didn't, so I had the doctor tell him and then swear him to secrecy," Calleigh explained.

"Sure you can keep that up for the next four months?" Maxine asked skeptically as Eric emerged with smudges of sage green paint on his fingers and forearms.

"Please," he waved a hand. "It's cake. And if I forget, I've got the best shot in three states to remind me to keep my mouth shut."

Calleigh smiled up at him as he squeezed her shoulders. "How's the bathroom coming?"

In all of the day-to-day hassles of moving in and inhabiting a new place, it was almost easy to forget her scare at the supermarket. Though she'd told Eric almost immediately, and he'd passed the information on to the rest of the team, nothing had come of it. There was no positive ID on the car, Lucas' memory was hazy at best for a physical description, and Calleigh had barely seen him at all. With almost three weeks without any significant sign from the stalker, everyone was beginning to wonder: what was he waiting for?

Eric shrugged. "It's coming, I think I'm going to need another little can of white if you want me to finish that trim today. You want those paint swatches?"

"Ooh, yes please."

He returned moments later with three fans of different color. Shades of green, orange, and yellow. Calleigh pushed them toward Maxine. "What do you think?"

She studied them for a moment. "Very unisex, I see."

"You know how I hate gender roles," the blonde commented lightly.

Her friend squinted at the swatches for a few moments longer before placing a fingernail onto a light, creamy shade of orange. "I like this one," she said finally. "It reminds me of sorbet."

Calleigh smiled. "I like that one too," she held it up for Eric's approval. "What do you think?"

"Whatever you want to do, babe. I like the orange."

Her bright green eyes turned hopeful. "How much do you like it?"

Eric's shoulders dropped. "I'm guessing enough to pick up a can while I'm at the hardware store."

Her smile widened. "Have I told you lately that you're absolutely wonderful?" She tilted her chin upward to brush her lips with his. "And we're probably going to need two cans—just be sure."

He sighed again. "Yes, dear. Want me to grab some lunch while I'm out?"

"Would you?" she smiled again. "See? What'd I tell you? Wonderful."

Eric rolled his eyes. "Max, what can I get for you?"

She shrugged. "Whatever—burgers, sandwiches…I'm down for whatever."

"Got it," he grabbed his keys and wallet from the dresser on his way to the door.

"Take Lucas with you," Calleigh suggested. "He's been begging to help."

"Will do," Eric nodded. "I'll be back in a bit."

The house quieted considerably once the sound John Madden's voice was no longer booming from the front of the hallway and Eric's humming was nowhere to be found. Calleigh sighed and leaned back on the bed, her belly eclipsing her view of Maxine.

"I really hope these clothes fit," she said quietly, feeling what she'd been referring to as Baby A kick against her palm. "I'm getting really sick of wearing track pants to work."

Maxine smiled. "They'll fit, I promise." She looked around and shook her head. "Cal, I don't know how you do it," she admitted after a moment.

"How I do what?" Calleigh struggled to prop herself up on her elbows.

"Your life—everything that's going on and you're still holding it all together," she shook her head again. "I just don't see how you do it."

Calleigh raised an eyebrow. "My parents may have left a lot to be desired," she said honestly, "but they did give me years of practice of putting on a brave face."

"It's not just that," Max said, her eyes falling to her hands. "I see you and Eric together and you're just so…" she rolled her eyes. "Still so freakin' in love." She paused and watched Calleigh's cheeks tint pink as she giggled. "I mean, you've been through everything and you're still acting like newlyweds. It's just…"

Calleigh pushed herself back up to sitting and covered her friend's hand with her own. "We have not been through everything. We never went through what you did, Max—you can't compare your relationship to mine. They're nothing alike."

"But even if you had—and thank God," she added, "you didn't—I don't think you two would have ended up the way Ryan and I did."

"Hey," she reminded with a wag of her finger, "you and Ryan haven't ended up anywhere yet. Who says it has to be over?"

Maxine sighed and pushed back her hair. "I just think it is," she said sadly. "You just go so long without talking, without being in each other's lives…it gets to a point where you just can't go back."

"Do you still love him?"

"That's not even the point."

Calleigh raised another unconvinced eyebrow. "Do you?"

"Of course I do!" she said in exasperation. "Everyone loves Ryan, he's a loveable guy."

"Maxine…"

"Love's not always enough, Cal," she said quietly, running her thumb along the pale white circle around her ring finger. "I just don't know if things can ever go back to the way they were before…"

There was a lapse in conversation while Calleigh tried to find the right words to say. "Max," she began softly, "things are never going to be the way they were with Katie—you know that. But that doesn't mean the whole thing was a waste. There's still a lot of good there."

"I don't know. There's a lot of baggage too."

"At least you know it's baggage that already matches," Calleigh quipped, willing a smile from her best girl friend. She was granted one for her efforts and squeezed her hand. "At least think about talking to him again."

Maxine sighed. "You know what your problem is?"

"Enlighten me."

"You're an eternal optimist."

Calleigh shrugged and stretched her eyes upward. "It's my curse," she smiled playfully.

"Come on, let's go look at this nursery," Max pulled her heavy friend off the bed and followed her next door to help with measurements for cribs and dressers, allowing her brain to focus on the task at hand rather than the confession she'd just made.

Until she got home.

The red light was blinking on her machine when she pushed open the door. Mindlessly, Maxine pressed the play button while she wandered to the refrigerator for a bottle of water.

"Hello Maxine, this is Peter Caulfield," the bottle nearly slipped from her hands at the sound of his voice. "I'm just calling to inform you that yesterday signaled the end of your six-month separation from Mr. Wolfe. At this point I'd like to get in touch with you to discuss your options regarding moving forward with filing the divorce papers. Please give me a call back at the office anytime after 8am Monday morning."

She listened to the message a few more times, different words jumping out at her each time. End. Separation. Options. Divorce.

Maxine sat down on the couch and sipped thoughtfully from her water. Despite what she had told Calleigh, her head was still winning its argument with her heart. Too much had happened. They had drifted too far apart.

Hadn't they?

AN: It just struck me that this chapter was almost entirely about Calleigh…um…sorry? I love her? Plus, she got shit on in this week's episode. This is my way of making it up to her. Sorry if this bugs some people, but I felt that her pregnancy was being put on a back burner. Wanna fight about it? PM me. Otherwise, just review your little hearts out. Love ya!