A/N: Hey peeps, sorry about the delay of getting this chapter to you. Had to go out and buy a new lap top, so I'm still in the process of transferring everything across. I'm not the most computer savvy person in the world, so it takes time.

Anyways, I won't hold you up, just let you get into the chapter. Not sure if it's okay or not – the muse isn't giving me a vibe about it, so I guess it's up to you guys to decide.

Hope you enjoy...

Chapter TWENTY ONE

"The truth is messy. It's raw and uncomfortable. You can't blame people for preferring lies."
~Holly Black~

Red Glove

Dexter sat in a deck chair on Debra's porch and looked out over at the ocean. Usually the ocean always calmed him but as always nowadays, when Debra was around, Dexter was anything but calm.

But she still feels like home to me.

Dexter tried to marry those two realities together in his head and couldn't quite manage it. They were what they were, whatever that was and Dexter was just going to have to accept that they could be two completely different things simultaneously. Even now, less than an hour after what had happened between them on the hood of his own car, Dexter was managing to feel angry yet glad Debra had shown up when she did and sated yet frustrated over their tryst.

"Are you sure you don't want one?" Debra's voice called out to him from the kitchen.

"It's the only thing I do know for sure," called back Dexter dryly.

Debra appeared at the doorway, a plate with a toasted sandwich in her hand. She took a seat beside Dexter in her own deck chair and immediately picked up one half of the toasted treat. "You don't know what you're missing out on." Debra took a giant mouthful of the sandwich.

"I'm missing out on a toasted sandwich filled with day old Chinese food." Dexter wrinkled his nose. "That's disgusting, Deb. Your pregnancy cravings are weird."

Debra snorted around a mouthful of reheated takeaway and toasted bread. "Fuck the pregnancy, I've been eating this for years."

"That's truly concerning."

"Don't knock it until you try it." She eyed him over the next mouthful of sandwich she was about to shove into her mouth. "And stop being pissed at me, you don't get the right after the shit you pulled today."

When did I become so transparent to her? My masks are useless against Deb now.

Dexter's lips thinned. "You could have been killed," he said sharply. "You should have stayed out of it."

"And if I had then you would have been killed," threw back Debra. "I would beats out a could any time of the day. I get to be pissed at you, not the other way round."

Dexter sat back in his chair and rubbed his face tiredly with a hand. "Ford deserved to die," he muttered. "I was trying to do something good, protect innocent people."

"You were looking to blow off some steam," Debra countered.

"Why couldn't I do both?"

"Because you were in no fit state to be trying to do anything like that, clearly," said Debra disapprovingly. "Jesus, Dex, tell me you can at least see that."

Dexter sighed heavily. "It wasn't my finest hour," he agreed reluctantly.

"Promise me you won't do that crap again, not while you're acting like a-"

"Like a what?" asked Dexter sharply. "A fuck up?"

"Yes," said Debra unrepentantly. "Trust me, I wrote the book, I know fuck up when I see it."

Dexter eyed her as she finished off the sandwich. "Why are you so calm all of a sudden? We nearly let a man who could expose every one of our dirty secrets get away and then we had sex again and we still haven't sorted anything out."

Debra shrugged, putting down her now empty plate. "Ford got himself killed. I don't have enough guilt left in me to waste on him." She wrinkled her nose. "And fuck, Dexter, it's not like you can get me pregnant again."

"That's very-" Dexter chose his next words carefully, "-zen-like of you."

Debra gave a short bark of laughter. "I know, right? What the fuck is that all about?" She brushed some crumbs off her blouse. "Don't worry, give it a couple of minutes I'll probably be a blubbering mess or try to punch your lights out." Debra shook her head in exasperation. "These stupid fucking pregnancy hormones are like a roller coaster ride."

"At least you've got an excuse." Dexter's jaw hardened as he thought back on his behaviour today. "I was careless and stupid for no good reason."

Debra arched her eyebrow. "There was a reason."

And she's sitting across from me looking strangely peaceful and altogether as sexy as hell.

Dexter abruptly looked away, not wanting to bring that back into the equation but it was next to impossible. His body was still in a state of endorphin-fuelled relaxation, thanks to the mind-numbingly fantastic release he'd enjoyed less than an hour before.

It would be so easy to let this become a habit, let this craving grow inside of me but where will it all end, how will it all end?

As always there was no answer to Dexter's frustrated questions.

"You know," said Debra conversationally, "I've worked something out about us."

"One of us had to eventually," said Dexter wryly. He sent her a curious look. "What did you work out?"

"That when we're apart, we're total train wrecks."

Dexter nodded his head slowly, unable to disagree with that summary. "And when we're together?"

Debra held his gaze steadily. "Then we're a completely different kind of total train wreck."

Dexter blink. "So what, we just have to choose our poison?"

Debra looked down at her entwined fingers. "I don't think it is a choice. When we're apart, we just do all this self-destructive shit which will end up getting us killed." She looked back up at him. "At least when we're together, we can put out each other's fires."

"Or start them." It took Dexter a split second to realise he'd said those words aloud rather than just thinking them.

Fuck.

He looked at Debra uncertainly, not sure what she would do with that revealing statement.

She gave a little laugh. "Yeah, we're turning out to be as good at fucking each other as we are at fucking each other over."

"It's not fucking," said Dexter tightly, disturbed by that turn of phrase. He didn't want Debra to think of what they were doing like that.

"I know," said Debra quietly. "It'd be so much simpler if it was."

"What do we do now?" asked Dexter helplessly. "What is the way forward through all of this?"

"I guess we start by stoping pretending that we have a choice about being in each other's lives," said Debra simply. She looked at him unflinchingly. "Because we don't."

"I know," replied Dexter unevenly.

"And then the rest of it, we'll just figure it out as we go along," continued Debra.

"And how is that going to work exactly?" he worried. "Deb, I'm not going to lie to you, I'm still not comfortable with the thought of adoption for this child."

"I know," said Debra unhappily, "but I need you. I need you to get through this and not fight against me. You've just got to make a choice, Dex."

Dexter stared at her, still slightly unnerved with how calm Debra was being all of a sudden. Normally he was the in control one, weighing things up logically and reducing them to simplicities. It was like they'd swapped their roles in each other's lives all of a sudden. He reached out and took Debra's hand, wrapping both of his hands around hers. "It's like you said," said Dexter quietly, "we don't have a choice. I need you in my life just as much as you need me in yours. We'll make this work, we have to." He squeezed her hand tightly. "I love you," said Dexter, voice roughened with emotion.

Debra gave a soft smile. "I love you too," she said huskily. "If we just stick together, we can get through this, I know we can."

Dexter looked down at their joined hands and hoped she was right.

oooOOOOooo

"Aunt Deb, look!" demanded an excited Harrison as he stood proudly by the mammoth, if somewhat lop-sided, sand castle he was in the process of building.

Debra made an impressed face as she continued to walk down the beach towards where Harrison, Dexter and Jamie were enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon in the sun. "Wow, buddy," she said in amazement, "that's awesome." Debra smiled at the two adults as she walked past them to join Harrison and his latest feat of engineering. "You know what this needs though, right?"

Harrison's young face wrinkled in deep thought. "A dragon?" he offered up hopefully.

"Well, sure, every castle needs a dragon," agreed Debra readily, "but no self-respecting dragon is going to live in a castle without a moat."

"What's a moat?"

"If you've got a spare spade, I'll show you."

Harrison eagerly went to retrieve a second spade from the pile of beach paraphernalia they'd walked down to the beach with.

"You're going to regret this," Dexter cautioned her with a half-smile. "Harrison is a tough task master with his work men. I had to redo that part of the castle three times before it passed inspection."

Debra grinned. "See, that's where you made your mistake. I'm not the labourer, I'm the architect. We get more say in things."

Dexter didn't look convinced. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Half an hour later Debra had to admit she was getting a little out of breath and red faced. Once Harrison had understood the concept of the moat, he'd wanted it to be deeper and wider before they filled it up with water. At some point it had stopped being a moat and now the castle appeared to be on its own island. "Okay, water time," she said firmly as Harrison started to dig even deeper. "No more digging."

"But-"

"It's deep and wide enough," insisted Debra.

Jamie chimed in to help Debra out. "If you make it any bigger, the dragon won't want to stay in the castle. Dragons can't swim."

Harrison was amazed by this bit of information. "They can't?"

"They can't?" echoed Dexter teasingly.

"You ever seen a dragon swim?" countered Jamie, not backing down. "It puts out the flame in their bellies and they can't breathe fire anymore."

"The dragon has to breathe fire," said Harrison eagerly.

"Well then," said Dexter, "the moat is big enough, just like Aunt Deb said."

Several bucketfuls of sea water later, the moat was fully operational. Debra put down her now empty bucket and lifted the bottom of her t-shirt to wipe her decidedly sweaty face. She suddenly felt a small hand patting her bare belly.

"You've got a tummy, Aunty Deb," announced Harrison innocently, "just like Grandad."

Debra hastily dropped her shirt, realising she'd lifted up her undershirt as well, exposing her now eighteen week bump to the entire beach. Wide-eyed she looked over at Jamie who was looking back at her. The young nanny had a shocked expression on her face before hastily busying herself with brushing sand from her towel. Debra grimaced and looked over at Dexter who gave a resigned little lift of his shoulders. This day was inevitable. They'd both been lucky to get away with it for as long as they had. Debra kept her voice light. "That's because I'm going to have a baby, buddy."

Harrison's young face lit up. "Really?"

Debra gave a grimacing smile at his excitement, not exactly sharing it. "Yup, really."

"Congratulations, Deb," inserted Jamie with a cautious smile, obviously trying to work out what the other woman wanted her reaction to be.

"Thanks, it wasn't exactly planned," said Debra dryly.

"I'm going to have a baby brother," announced Harrison excitedly. He looked over at Dexter. "He can sleep in my room, Daddy, we can get bunk beds, like Taylor has." Harrison's expression became momentarily serious. "But I get to be on the top bed," he said, staking his claim early, "cause I'm the biggest."

"It might not be a boy, Harrison," Jamie reminded the boy indulgently. "What if it's a little girl? And your Aunt Deb's baby won't be your brother or sister, he or she will be your cousin."

"Oh," said Harrison, sounding a little disappointed. "I guess a girl would be okay. And are you sure the baby couldn't be my brother or sister?"

A lump formed in Debra's throat at the fact that in this case, Harrison had been right - out of the mouths of babes, wasn't how that went? She swallowed hard to dislodge the lump. "We're sure," said Debra, keeping her voice steady. She knelt beside the boy and forced a bright smile to her lips. "And you know what? This baby is going to be a very special baby because it's going to go to a couple that really, really wants a baby but can't have one."

Harrison's forehead wrinkled. "What do you mean, Aunt Deb? This is our baby, not anyone else's."

Dexter walked over and sat down beside Harrison, pulling the child onto his lap. "Aunt Deb wants to do something very kind and give this baby to a couple who are very sad because they can't have their own baby."

"But-but they'll still sleep at our house, right?" asked Harrison, clearly struggling with the concept.

Debra looked abruptly away, sharp tears stinging her eyes. She'd been dreading this but hadn't expected to feel this emotional about it all. Harrison's confusion and disappointment tugged at her heart strings.

Dexter gave him a little hug. "No, pal, the baby will sleep with its new parents."

"Can we see him?"

"I don't think so."

Harrison looked crestfallen. "Oh." He looked up at Debra, face lined with concern. "Won't you be sad not to see your baby, Aunt Deb? Daddy made me give away Panda a little while ago because he said that another little boy would be able to play with him and it was the right thing to do." Harrison pulled a sad face. "I still kinda miss him."

Debra blew out an unsteady breath. "I know you do, Harrison, but you did a good thing and that counts for a lot. That's why I'm doing this, to do a good thing. I can't be sad about that, even if I might miss the baby."

Harrison nodded his head. "I know," he said wisely, "sometimes you can be sad and happy at the same time."

Debra choked back a little laugh at the boy's perception. "Sometimes you can," she agreed unevenly. Debra couldn't look at Dexter, not sure she'd be able to maintain control.

"Come on," said Dexter with feigned joviality, "I think that is enough castle building for the day. I think it's time for some lunch. What do you say to hot dogs with lots of ketchup?"

"Yay!" shouted Harrison, jumping up and seeming to be immediately distracted from talks of babies.

Dexter looked over at Jamie. "Do you mind going up and getting things started?"

"No, of course not," said Jamie quickly. She stood up and started to collect up towels, buckets and spades before taking Harrison's hand. "Come on you, I'm starving."

"Me too," agreed Harrison readily, hopping along beside her. "Making moats makes me as hungry as a dragon!"

"Well then, Mr. Dragon, lunch time it is."

Debra watched the two leave the beach. She folded her arms in front of herself, still refusing to look at Dexter as he stood up. "Well, that sucked," she said, voice tight with threatening emotion.

Dexter took a step closer, a compassionate expression on his face. "I thought you did really well."

"Do-do you think that will be the end of it?" she asked hopefully. "That he won't ask any more questions?"

Dexter grimaced. "Probably not."

Debra bit her bottom lip, knowing Dexter was most likely going to have to field most of those questions. "I'm sorry," she said harshly. "I know you're not even on board with this whole adoption thing and now you're going to have Harrison asking you all sorts of questions."

"Harrison is a child," said Dexter simply. "He'll take things at face value and move on." He reached out with his hands and stroked Debra's arms. "And I am on board with anything to do with this baby. We're partners in all of this, no matter what."

"Don't you fucking be sweet to me," said Debra, voice cracking as she felt fresh tears threatening. "I can't take it if you're nice to me right now, Dex. I'm going to lose it."

"Okay," said Dexter straight-faced, "your stomach really does look like Harrison's grandfather's belly now."

Debra gave a choked laugh. "Fuck you," she said, grateful for his attempts at trying to lighten the mood.

Dexter smiled. "This is only the beginning, Deb. Everyone else is going to know now. Are you ready for that?"

"Fuck no," she said unevenly, "but I guess I'll deal." Debra gave a helpless shoulder lift. "I have to." She felt a wave of desperation wash over her. "Tell me this is going to get easier, Dex."

Dexter looked torn. "Do you want me to lie to you or tell you the truth?" he asked uncertainly.

"I want you to make me feel better," said Debra urgently.

Dexter contemplated that for a second and then just stepped closer, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Debra felt all the tension leave her body abruptly at the feeling of being secure in his arms. "That'll work," she mumbled into his shoulder. Suddenly there was a strange feeling in her stomach and Debra pulled back, frightened. "Fuck, what was that?"

Dexter's tone was worried. "Are you alright, did something hurt?"

Debra pulled up her shirt and looked down at her growing belly uncertainly. "N-no, it didn't hurt, it just felt weird."

Dexter placed his hand on her stomach, just as the sensation came again. He smiled, looking relieved. "The baby is kicking."

Debra blinked, looking at him blankly. She didn't know what she'd been expecting along those lines but the feeling of a series of tiny butterflies trying to escape her uterus wasn't one of them. "That's so fucking weird," she gasped. "It doesn't feel like kicking at all."

"It will, once the baby gets bigger," said Dexter confidently. "Rita used to complain Harrison was making her black and blue all over."

Debra was still reeling from this first sign of actual life inside her body. "There's a fucking baby in there," she said weakly. Her stricken gaze met Dexter's. "Fuck," she said anxiously. This was suddenly getting all too real. A growing waistline was one thing. A little body inside of her moving independently was another entirely.

Dexter rubbed her stomach soothingly. "It's okay, don't panic."

"That's easy for you to say," said Debra shakily, "you don't have a little alien inside your body." She shook her head. "I don't like it. How often is it going to pull this shit?"

"As much as he or she wants to," said Dexter calmly. "That's how babies are."

"Great," grumbled Debra, resorting to bad temper while she tried to figure out how she really did feel about all of this.

"We should go up to the house," said Dexter. "You should drink some water after all that work on the beach."

"I'd rather a beer," grumbled Debra, knowing it was impossible.

"You can have a beer," agreed Dexter easily. "A pregnant woman can have small doses of alcohol and it doesn't affect the baby."

"No," said Debra stubbornly, "I'm going to give this kid the best start it can get. I'm eating right, not drinking, doing all of that shit because I can't give it anything else, but I can make sure it's healthy." Debra had done this little deal in her head with the baby. It wouldn't hate her later on in life if she made sure she took the best care of it she could while it was still inside her body. If Debra let herself think about it, she'd realise she was just trying to assuage her guilt over the decision she'd made, but she'd been very determined in not letting herself think about it.

"Okay, no beer then." Dexter gave her stomach a final rub before dropping his hand away. "When is your next ultrasound?"

"I don't want you there, Dexter," said Debra tightly. "It's hard enough as it is."

Dexter looked away and nodded. "I understand," he said, but didn't sound happy. He looked back at her. "Are you going to find out the sex?"

Debra hesitated. "I don't know." She liked being able to call the baby 'it'. Assigning a sex to it made this baby a little human being and not just the parasite she'd complained about earlier. Debra sighed heavily as she realised this really wasn't going to get any easier.

Shit, why couldn't these nine months be up already?

Debra answered her own question. Because that would be too easy and there was one thing she knew about her life – it was never going to be easy.