Secretary, Snatcher, and a Spastic Stomach
Stephen:
We arrived at Aunt Thea and Uncle Roy's new apartment in downtown Starling about an hour ago. We were the last ones to arrive because Mom had unexpectedly spent quite some time in the bathroom, agonizing over what she said was an upset stomach. The girls had been upset that they had to wait for thirty long minutes. Emily had been frowning in silence, while Liv had successfully annoyed Dad by coming in and out of their room every five minutes with her "Aren't we going yet?" or "What's taking so long?" lines. Carrie had been too bored to say anything, preferring instead to drape her lazy arms around Dad's neck as he carried her close to his chest. By the time Mom came down the stairs, she had looked totally exhausted, with droplets of cold sweat all over her forehead and her neck.
"You okay?" Dad asked her as we all marched out of the front door to get into the van.
"I think I will be," Mom said after a deep sigh. "Let's just go."
So here we are, enjoying the company of family and friends after a hearty lunch. Grandpa Quentin is here. He is having a heated argument with his son-in-law, Uncle Tommy, over politics in Starling City at the bar. Aunt Lyla and our mom are seated at the dining table discussing new recipes and sharing them with Aunt Thea, the rookie wife in the group. Dad, Uncle Roy, and Uncle John are in the living room discussing the latest baseball and basketball statistics over cups of brewed coffee. The twins are playing video games with Dana and Andy in front of the giant LED TV in the den.
I like our aunt's new place. It's a perfect replica of the modern, minimalist interior design showroom that Aunt Thea had admired in an architectural magazine that my dad had given her when she told him that she and Uncle Roy had decided to get their own place instead of living with us at the mansion. (I can understand why. They preferred to live in downtown Starling not just because it's nearer the precinct where Uncle Roy worked, but also because they wouldn't be getting any privacy and peace-and-quiet if they were living in a place with five kids, no matter how huge the Queen mansion is.) They had closed the deal and signed a lease contract on the apartment even before their wedding, and had hired a contractor to begin renovations so that everything would be ready by the time they got back from their honeymoon in Hawaii.
But the lovely new apartment is not the highlight of my day. It's the cute, brown-haired 14-year-old girl chatting with my sister Emily at the foot of the stairs that I can't take my eyes off of. Katie is here by herself. Her parents have an important business deal going on in another part of town and can't join us. But I'm glad she's here. Even if she's not talking with me. Not yet, at least. I'm content just sitting in my corner about ten feet away, watching hazel eyes surrounded by flattering lashes sparkle as she steals seemingly random glances at me in between dialogues with my sister. She has the most amazing smile. The way she twirls the ends of her auburn locks while she giggles and laughs over Emily's funny jokes, or rubs her palms together while she gasps in excitement during girl talk... Ugh! Anyone would be crazy not to find this girl awesomely cool!
I notice my sister pointing at me and whispering something to Katie's ear. That makes me nervous. I wonder what she's telling Katie about me. Not long after, both girls stand up and start walking towards me.
"Hey, Stephen," Emily says to me. "It turns out Katie here is a big fan of the NBA. Told her you play in the varsity basketball team of our school. She's raving about six-foot-tall guys in jerseys whom I know absolutely nothing about. So, I figured she might be better off talking with you instead of me. Besides, I think I'm going for another serving of Aunt Lyla's blueberry cheesecake. Be nice, Stephen. Try not to bore our friend here." And just like that, my sister sets us up and walks away. To my delight. I just love Emily so much.
Emily:
I walk away from Katie and Stephen and head straight to the dining area where Mom, Aunt Thea, and Aunt Lyla are. I get a slice of cheesecake and then take a seat on one of the bar stools by the kitchen counter. I turn to see how my brother is faring in winning over his latest crush, and I see he's doing quite well. They're both smiling at each other while chatting about the latest NBA all-stars. The next thing I know, Stephen takes his phone out of his pocket and keys in a number. Presumably it's Katie's. I hope. This makes me smile. I am certainly learning to like the self-designated role as my older brother's matchmaker.
My attention is now drawn by the women's conversation at the dinner table.
"So, Thea, how's married life?" I overhear Aunt Lyla ask.
"Better than expected," Aunt Thea replies with a naughty look on her face.
"Oh, really? And what makes you say that?" Aunt Lyla asks again, trying to fish for details.
"Well... that's for me to know and for you to wonder about," is Aunt Thea's witty response.
"I don't have to wonder, girl. I know what it's like. I'm almost eight years ahead of you. Remember?" Aunt Lyla remarks even more cleverly, raising her left hand and wiggling her ring finger. "And I assure you... it won't always be a bed of roses, especially when the honeymoon stage fades, and then you wake up realizing you married a perfectly flawed individual. Right, Felicity?"
The two women laugh, but there is no immediate response from my mom, who only smiles and nods.
"What's the matter, sis? Are you okay? You've been awfully quiet," Aunt Thea asks, casting a concerned look at my mom.
Mom shrugs her shoulders as she straightens up in her chair. "I haven't been feeling well since this morning. Stomach upset. Must be something I ate for breakfast... though... I didn't eat anything different from what everyone else ate."
"Maybe it's just indigestion," Aunt Lyla comments.
"I don't know. It feels like acid reflux... and stomach cramps that radiates around my lower back and pelvis. It's like when you have a bad case of diarrhea. Thing is... I spent thirty minutes in the bathroom... but... nothing... except painful spasms. I didn't think I'd make it out of there," Mom explains.
"That explains why you haven't eaten much. You usually devour the salad, pasta, and dessert!" Aunt Lyla teases, chuckling under her breath.
"I'm just glad you made it," Aunt Thea says, tapping my mom's hand which was resting on the table. "You know, I really love our new place, and I don't plan on having another housewarming party in the near future. Are you sure you'll be okay? I think I have something for an upset stomach. Hot tea, maybe?"
"No, thanks. I'm fine. I think I'll just give my tummy a break," Mom replies.
As perceptive and intuitive as she is, Aunt Thea doesn't seem satisfied with my mom's coy response, so she decides to probe deeper and pursue a hunch. "Are you sure this is just about a stomach upset, Felicity? Or is there something else upsetting you?" She has really come to know my mother quite well these past few years. In fact, I'd like to think they've become very close friends, close enough for her to read my mom's nonverbal language.
Mom drums her fingers on the table and lowers her gaze. After a few seconds of wishing that the two pairs of searching eyes would stop staring at her, Mom gives up. "Remember my secretary that you helped Oliver fire some weeks ago, Thea?"
Aunt Thea's eyes narrow as she frowns. "Of course! Bertinelli, right? That brunette who tried to seduce my brother in the elevator?"
"That's the one," Mom replies.
"What about her?" Aunt Thea asks. She leans forward and rests her chin on the palm of a hand, with her elbow on the table.
"We received documents from her lawyers today. She suing Oliver and QC and claiming damages for unlawful termination. She's asking for a meeting to settle things."
"What?! Unbelievable!" Aunt Thea replies with a perceptibly louder tone of voice that makes every other head in the apartment turn in her direction.
"That's exactly what I said when Oliver showed me the documents," Mom says.
"She has some nerve!" Aunt Thea adds. "All the paperwork for that termination was clean. She broke the company's code of ethics, and since she hasn't reached tenure yet, QC isn't obliged to-"
"That's what Oliver was telling me, but I don't really trust her, Thea. I think there's more to this complaint than meets the eye. You see, she's going after the company, but she had the documents mailed to our home. Our home," Mom explains.
"That is strange," Aunt Lyla remarks with a frown forming on her face. "Does John know about this?"
"I think Oliver's told him most of it before we left to come here," Mom answers Aunt Lyla. And then she turns to Aunt Thea. "I think this is something personal to her. I mean, why would Helena Bertinelli have the documents delivered to our home if she's just after legal claims from the company? I'm a bit wary that she might hurt my family just because she has a grudge against QC for firing her. Your brother wants to speak to Tommy about it," Mom explains further.
Aunt Thea takes a sip of red wine before she continues, "That's probably a good idea. QC's legal department usually handles stuff like this for the company. But then again, this particular case involves the CEO and his wife, who happens to be the President of the Board. It's better if a trusted private attorney handles a sensitive case like this. The press would have a heyday if this leaks out prematurely."
Stephen:
Emily swallows the last bite of her cheesecake and decides to come back and snatch her newest favorite girl friend away from me. I don't mind. I've already got her number. I smile as I watch her and Katie disappear into the balcony to chat some more. I decide to join the big guys in the living room just as Grandpa Quentin and Uncle Tommy also move from the bar to join them. It seems they're no longer talking about sports.
"Harper! You better get ready to go. Your shift starts in about an hour, right?" Grandpa calls his attention.
"What? Leaving your own housewarming party so soon?" my dad asks Uncle Roy.
"Yeah, patrol starts in an hour. See, that's why this had to be a lunch thing. I have a twenty-four hour shift today. We're on alert for the next one or two weeks," Uncle Roy says.
"What's up in Starling City in the next week or so? I haven't been noticing an increase in the crime rate lately," Uncle Tommy asks curiously.
This time it's Grandpa who offers an explanation, and it puts all the guys on edge. Just a little bit.
"The Cradle Snatcher," Grandpa begins to explain. "We're on red alert, looking out for child abductions in the city. This guy - for now, we're still working with the assumption that it's a guy who's working alone - has been responsible for kidnapping children in major cities up and down the West Coast. The kids turn up dead in the outskirts of the cities a month or less later. And this happens once every year. At the close of spring. Always at the end of April or early May."
"This is the first time I've heard about this... Cradle Snatcher... since I've been in Starling's legal system. When did these annual abductions start?" Uncle Tommy asks again.
"If the FBI's statistics are correct, last year's victim was the sixth. And the only reason why Starling has never heard of this notorious serial kidnapper-murderer is because no one from our city has been abducted so far. Our previous and present mayors have strictly put this story on news blackout all this time to prevent people from panicking or freaking out," Grandpa clarifies.
"But why is the SCPD on alert this time?" Dad asks, now just as curious as Uncle Tommy.
"That's because last year's victim was from Central City," Uncle Roy clarifies further. The Cradle Snatcher's first abduction was in San Diego six years ago. He took a four-year-old girl in broad daylight in the San Diego Zoo without her mother noticing anything. His next victims were from Los Angeles, San Jose, San Francisco, Coast City, and just last year-"
"Central City," Uncle John finishes Uncle Roy's sentence for him. "The Snatcher seems to be moving north."
"You got that right," Grandpa remarks. "That's why we're on high alert."
"I remember Sara was working that case around this time last year in Central City," Uncle Tommy says.
"And that's why Harper and I better get going. It's going to be a long night for this cop right here," Grandpa says, clapping Uncle Roy's back. Grandpa starts to walk towards the apartment's front door while Uncle Roy kisses Aunt Thea and says goodbye to everyone.
"Oh, and gentlemen," Grandpa adds, turning back as he turns the door knob to leave, "Let me give you one piece of sound advice. I don't want to scare you or anything, but it would be to your families' best interests if you could be extra careful with your kids in the next week or so. You couldn't be too careful when there's even the remotest possibility of a serial kidnapper on the loose anywhere near our city."
"Sure, Dad," my Dad replies politely and sincerely. Uncle John nods his head in the affirmative as well.
Felicity:
It's been three days since the housewarming at Thea's, but my stomach cramps still won't leave me alone. It's like it has decided to be my latest best friend - worst friend, rather - to my dismay. At different times of the day, I'd have to go to the bathroom and spend ten minutes or so sitting on the toilet, but... nothing. There's just this terrible spasm in my lower abdomen that rages like a tempest and then wanes as if it were only a breeze after a drizzle. I haven't been getting any sleep because the spasms are worse in the middle of the night. As it is now.
"Honey? Are you okay in there?" Oliver knocks on the bathroom door and asks softly.
"I wouldn't be okay if I'm in here at three in the morning, would I?" I reply irritably.
"Chill. I'm just asking because I care. You know that, right?" my husband responds patiently, and I start to feel guilty about being so cross. After all, this isn't his fault.
"Yeah, I know. And I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," I call out apologetically. "It's just that this has been giving me a hard time."
"Felicity, please go see Dr. Snow at the QC infirmary tomorrow. Okay? I'm getting worried," Oliver says. He says it like a request.
"Oh, come on. You think it's serious? I don't think this is that serious. Maybe I've just caught a gastrointestinal virus or something. But then again, you're still going to make me go see a doctor because the mere mention of a virus, a bacterium, or even just a harmless germ makes you think that my spleen-less-ness is going to get me into serious trouble again."
"Fe-li-ci-ty..." Oliver interrupts my rambling with that tone of voice that tells me his request has just become an order. "Go see Dr. Snow today. Okay?"
"Okay," I say in absolute surrender. I may win some battles, but my husband always wins the war.
And then I remember...
"But, Oliver, I can't see Dr. Snow today. We have this arbitration meeting with Bertinelli's lawyers today, right?" I say, trying to ease my way out of the mandatory medical check-up.
"You don't have to be there. Tommy and I can handle it."
"But I have to be there. In fact, I want to be there! I want to look that woman in the eye and-"
"All right. All right. You can join us for the meeting and then go, see Dr. Snow after. She'll still be in the infirmary by the time the meeting is over," my husband acquiesces to a compromise. "Aren't you done yet, honey? You've been in there quite a while."
Nothing has happened in the last ten minutes or so, except that the spasms have stopped by now, so I stand up and pull my underwear and pajamas back up. I open the door to see my husband leaning against the door frame with one arm stretched out.
"Please, see the doctor tomorrow, honey. Please?" he pleads this time.
"I will," I say with a sincere smile. I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him playfully, biting his lower lip. Then without warning, I tease him by poking at his ticklish side near his armpit followed by a slap on his butt.
"Hey!" he yells (at three o'clock in the morning).
I side-step and attempt to run back to the bedroom, but my husband's track star reflexes get the better of me. I don't make it two or three feet past my husband before he grabs me by the waist and flips me over his right shoulder.
"Hey! Put me down! Put me down, Mr. Queen, or I'll-"
"Or you'll what?" my husband dares, knowing there's absolutely nothing I can do to scare him into letting me go. He chuckles because he is absolutely enjoying this.
Right now the black-and-grey stripes of the back side of my husband's boxers are the only things I can see in front of me. (But of course, the view is upside down.) My hair is hanging loosely, brushing against his legs and swaying to and fro as he takes one step after another through the walk-in closet and into our bedroom. When he reaches the foot of our bed, he releases me and lets me flop onto the mattress like a rag doll. A rag doll giggling with glee.
"You. Are going. To see. The doctor. Later. Today. Whether you like it. Or not. Understood?" My husband says this one phrase at a time, in a commanding yet teasing tone of voice, as he crawls onto the bed like a canopy of massively toned muscles on top of me.
"Yes, Sir!" I answer. It's all my lips could say because he cuts me short with an irresistible kiss. That leads into... well... We are a happily married couple.
But with lack of sleep, we are both headed for trouble at that meeting with Bertinelli in the afternoon. We might not even make it to the movie night we promised to take the kids to. Ugh!
A/N: So, this chapter is not that long and is really meant to be a purposeful filler - to develop the characters and to set up the next developments in the plot. The next chapter is really the game changer. Also, there will be guest characters from another of my favorite TV crime series coming up in the chapter after next. So stay tuned, and I hope you keep enjoying this story. And I'd love to hear what you think about this story so far.