Chapter 38- The Challenge

In the end, they all talked.

Mark talked. Eddie talked. Even the stony Royko talked. They all had various motivations, the main one being that the CBI had enough evidence to nail them to the wall several times over. Marked talked for a reduced sentence. Eddie—only aware of the drug connection and not the slave ring—talked out of indignation. He'd only hit Grace because he saw someone on the monitors taking the meth. He hadn't known it was Marie and he hadn't known about the women behind the booze cage until that night. Meth. Only. He was charged accordingly. Royko talked out of defeated embarrassment and a vain need to slant the story in his favor. The presence of his family in the observation room brought of flood of information out of him. It's wasn't what the CBI thought it was. They're prostitutes, not slaves. They were never kidnapped. That was bullshit. Anyone who said different was a liar.

However, he had no immediate response to the meth production charges. The packets Grace had stolen and were then recovered by the agents, the lab, the video footage of them clearing out, the ingredients found in huge quantities, none of these left him much room to maneuver. He couldn't feign ignorance of a setup that large in his very own club, nor could he underplay the severity of the drug itself. Meth was a mean bitch. Just say no. But he hadn't, now he couldn't. He was going away for a long time, along with half of his bouncers.

The strippers had been in complete ignorance. Not a single female accomplice was found in the entire shakedown. Lisbon, who had brought Mark and the driver in, felt a strange sense of relief at this. She wasn't sure why. She knew women were capable of some seriously messed-up stuff, but when a case involved cruelty against women, she was always happier when men were the perpetrators. It felt like less of a betrayal.

Now, sitting in her office and working out the final aspects of the case with Cho, both of the agents felt a smug sense of satisfaction as the Royko enterprise went down like the Hindenburg with every piece of evidence they entered into the indictments. They were slow. They were thorough. They made damn sure everything was water tight. And they were the only two unit members in the office, so they had to work double time.

"Jane?" Cho asked, not even looking up from his paperwork.

Neither did Lisbon. "With Cherry."

Enough said.

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Rigsby wouldn't leave Grace once they arrived at the hospital. Not for a single second. The medics tried to separate them to treat their injuries, but Rigsby threatened to tear the place apart if they took her away from him. They looked over the bloodied woman and imposing man in front of them and made a judgment call.

Grace was given a private room while a nurse set three of Rigsby's fingers as he sat by her bedside. The doctor came in and smiled at her kindly.

"Miss Van Pelt? I'm doctor Addison. I'll be checking your injuries to make sure you haven't sustained a concussion."

"My baby first," Grace informed him insistently from her half-prone position. Rigsby looked the man in the eye as his free hand slipped to Grace's stomach, lacing his fingers through hers.

"Our baby first," he reiterated.

Dr. Addison's eyes raised up as he checked her chart in his hand. "You're pregnant? I apologize. Of course, I'll start there immediately. How far along are you?"

Rigsby turned to Grace at this, also wanting to know.

She tilted her chin and cleared her throat. "Since October 31st, doctor."

Rigsby's eyes went wide. She gave him an embarrassed smile. Yes, their first night together.

Dr. Addison nodded and scribbled it down. "So about a month. That's good. The fetus is in early development and was most likely insulated from any trauma." He flipped her chart closed. "Prop your legs up and I'll have a look."

Dr. Addison was very thorough, gently probing her belly and entrance before taking blood and urine samples. When he was done, he smiled with genuine reassurance.

"It's my preliminary opinion that your baby is fine, Grace. I don't see any evidence of injury or anything that might lead to a miscarriage. The tests need to come back, but you're a healthy woman and I can honestly say that I think you'll be okay. Now," he paused as he reached for her. "Will you allow me to inspect your head?"

Grace gave him a relieved smile and nodded, sitting up to give him access. As he gently prodded and asked her if she felt any pain, Rigsby stood up from his chair and sat next to her on the bed.

"A baby," he murmured softly as he turned into her and ran his fingers gently through her hair. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Keeping her head still, she shifted her gaze to him as best she could. "I wanted to. So badly." She bit her lips apologetically.

"Why didn't you?" His eyes were wide and filled with hurt. Grace felt her eyes tear up.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't want you to worry. You were already so worried. I was afraid," she paused and blinked. A tear fell. "I was afraid you'd tell me to quit the sting. We were so close. I wanted to prove myself. Prove I was strong."

He slid his arm around her waist. "How long have you known?"

She sniffed. "A few days."

He thought for a moment. "The bathroom at the Pussycat?"

She jerked her head up and down. "Uh-huh."

He was silent for a moment. Dr. Addison silently continued his examination. Rigsby leaned into her ear. "We're…we're going to keep it, right? You weren't going to…" He couldn't finish.

Shocked, Grace turned her head to stare at him. The doctor had to find his fingering again as he lost contact with her skull. Grace's eyes were a mixture of disbelief and budding anger. "You think I'd abort my baby—our baby—and not tell you?" Her voice was a whisper, yet it struck Rigsby like a scream.

He instantly lowered his head and tucked it against her shoulder. "Forgive me. I just…I'm just so messed up right now. You were gone. Maybe dead. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't stop-," he cut himself off.

Grace tipped his chin up. "Couldn't stop what?"

His expression was one of raw pain. "I couldn't stop screaming."

Grace's fingers moved from his chin and cupped his face. "Oh, baby," she whispered softly. "I'm so sorry." She leaned her forehead and against his. Their eyes fell shut as they touched noses.

Dr. Addison stepped back and gently cleared his throat. Neither patient moved. "Your head is fine, Grace. You'll have a nasty bump for a few days, but that's all. A nurse will be in soon to clean your cuts."

Grace didn't move her head from Rigsby's or even open her eyes. "Thank you, doctor."

He left the room and they were left alone.

Rigsby pulled an unsteady breath. "The only thing that saved me was SoSo and Lila. They sat with me and we talked about all of us living together as a big family. They told me things they thought I should know about you. They were so…" He pulled up a bit and looked her in the eye. "They were little pieces of you. Your blood runs through them. And Lila…for a minute, I imagined she was you." Another tear fell. His. "I imagined she was ours."

Grace smiled weakly. "Lie down with me."

He nodded. They stood up. Rigsby settled onto the half-raised bed, his long frame grazing each end. Grace crawled up and settled at his side, half on his chest, half on the mattress. Their arms instantly entangled and clasped tightly. Rigsby lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers softly. She sighed contentedly and returned his kiss. There was no panic or urgency to it like there had been on the highway. Those kisses had been born of desperation and insane relief. This kiss was the kind that came with the terrifying knowledge of what might have been. It was timid. Exhausted. Grateful.

Grace broke it gently. "The only thing that saved me in that truck was our baby," she confessed quietly. "It's a little piece of you. Your blood runs through it. And I didn't have to imagine that it's ours." She shifted, snuggling closer to his side. "I'm having my husband's child. Don't you ever doubt that I want to keep it."

Despite his teary eyes, Rigsby grinned happily. "Your husband?"

She lifted her head and looked at him. "The proposal's still on the table, isn't it? Or did you win nine Mega Millionaire lotteries in the few hours that I was gone?"

He chuckled with tired joy and hugged her tightly. "Fuck the lottery. Call the nurse and tell her to find a priest or a ship's captain or somebody who can marry us right now on this bed."

Grace snorted and dropped her head back to his chest, the weight of the night finally catching up to her. "I'm not getting married in a hospital gown on the same day that I came off my shift at a strip joint after stealing meth. What kind of story is that for our kid?"

"Kids," he corrected sternly.

Grace yawned and felt her eyes slip closed. "Fine," she mumbled as she drifted off to sleep. "But you're having the next one."

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After finally reaching the hospital and filling out Grace's insurance paperwork, Jane and Cherry were led to their room. The orderly pointed to the door and Cherry poked her head around and melted at the scene before her. She felt Jane pad up softly behind her and lean over her shorter frame to see for himself.

There on the hospital bed lay Rigsby and Grace, sound asleep. Rigsby was on his back, his arms locked securely around his woman. Grace was curled up on him, her chest pressed firmly into his, her leg anchored around his waist, her arms around his neck and chest. Even in sleep, they looked exhausted, but calm. Grace's cuts had been cleaned, her forehead sporting a tiny red line near her hairline. They looked…beautiful.

"That kid is gonna be a heartbreaker," Cherry murmured softly as she watched her sister and future brother-in-law, their unborn child nestled safely between them.

Jane reached for her hand. "Just like their aunt."

She snorted softly, her gaze never leaving them. "I told you before. Don't try your tired lines on me, sailor. I'm immune."

Jane chuckled. "I'm curious," he mused, pulling her chin and bringing her gaze to him. "Will you take up their challenge?"

Cherry arched her brow and gave him a bemused smirk. "Challenge?"

"Well," his expression went serious. "You can't let Van Pelt and Rigsby have a dazzlingly beautiful baby and not throw your own entry into the ring."

Her brow arched higher. "I already have two beautiful babies."

Jane pulled her flush against him. "Too old," he huffed softly as he ran his finger down her cheek. "Have another one."

Cherry's eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat. He'd got her. He loved when he did that. Her eyes immediately calmed. "Gee," her eyes drifted upwards as she thought carefully. "You know, I would, but unfortunately that particular dance takes two. I'm good, but I'm not that good."

A low voice. Lulling. Hypnotic. "What if you had a partner for that dance?"

Her eyes fluttered against her will. "Got anyone in mind?"

He rubbed her shoulders soothingly. "Someone with excellent genes."

"Uh-huh."

"Smart. Handsome. Pristine medical history."

"A winning combination."

"Guaranteed to give the soon-to-be Rigsbys a run for their money," he purred.

Cherry's eyes closed completely and she smiled. "Hmmmm. Nice. But see? The problem is that Cho is already dating Anna Angel."

Jane gripped her shoulders and swooped to her lips, grinning. "Spiteful girl!"

She grinned, eyes shut tight. "And Liev is gay."

"Hush, woman."

"Jackson's seeing someone."

"I said zip it."

"And Johnny's too high-strung."

"You're only digging yourself deeper, babe."

"Juarez might be game. I'll check with him."

Jane shook her gently. "You're just plain evil."

Cherry opened her eyes. They sparkled with pure mirth. "That's-,"

"—why I love you." Jane finished her sentence.

She held their gaze for a fraction of a second before nodding. "Exactly."

He was still gripping her by the arms, his face an inch away from hers. "Well? Is our kid gonna mop the floor with their kid or what?"

She pursed her lips, giving it some adorable thought. "I dunno. I have a burlesque house to run. You've got a racket swindling old ladies out of their life savings. We're obviously busy people. Seems like a lot to ask just to beat a Rigsby kid. And there's a chance they'll have a freckly, redheaded giant. We'll have had a spectacular baby for no reason."

Jane sighed. "Stubborn woman. I can see I'm going to need a lot of time to persuade you. Fine," he rolled his eyes dramatically. "I'm moving in with you and following you around day and night until you agree."

Cherry's grin exploded in wattage and she clapped her hand on her mouth to keep her booming laugh in her chest. She glanced at the sleeping pair to make sure she hadn't disturbed them before pulling Jane down the hall and out the automatic doors. Once outside, she shrieked with delight, bending at the waist and laughing until tears streamed down her face.

"Live with me?! That's your ultra-smooth, ladies' man way of asking to move in with me? Oh, Patrick," she gasped as she grabbed him for support. "Pathetic."

He locked her in his arms and beamed wide. "Perfect logical. You're madly in love with me. Lila and SoSo adore me. You and I can't let the Rigsbys win. And unless you're moving in with me onto the CBI couch, it's the only course of action."

Cherry bit her lower lip and smiled earnestly, catching her breath. "I'm not madly in love with you."

He held her gaze and arched his brow, willing her to be honest. "Are so."

She gazed back, letting her arms slowly go slack in his grip. Her eyes dipped down shyly. Her head fell forward until it nestled into his neck. He could feel her smiling against his throat. He caught her chin and made her look at him. "Are. So."

Whiskey. Chocolate. Coffee. The colors flashed at him brightly. Two candy-colored lips bit each other nervously, then spoke. "Am so."