"Mom? What does my baby look like?"
"Your baby?" Olivia cocks an eyebrow.
"Isn't my job as a big brother to watch out for the baby?"
"Yes."
"What does it look like in there?"
"I have pictures. Do you want to see them?"
"You should have started with that," he scolds her, "I don't know what a baby looks like in there. I just keep thinking about the lizard that I saw at the zoo."
"A lizard?! It doesn't look like a lizard. What would make you think that?"
He shrugs, "I don't know."
She exits the room the retrieve the photographic evidence of the unborn baby she is currently incubating in her uterus. She returns to Noah's room, and hands him the stack of pictures.
"How disappointing. It just looks like a baby. Can I tell my friends I'm getting a lizard? None of them have lizards."
"How about we keep this our secret, for now?"
"Why? You said that it isn't good to keep secrets."
"I'm just not ready to share this with everyone yet."
"Because we don't have a dad in our family?"
"Man, you are relentless! You might be destined to become a detective."
"Is that why?"
"Sure, we can go with that."
"Mom?"
"Hm?"
"Two things. First of all this says it's a girl. I think we both know that I can read."
"Nothing gets by you. It is a girl."
"Secondly, how do you make a baby with no dad? I was adopted, this is different."
Olivia glances at her watch, "Oh, man. That is all of the time we have for questions. It's your bedtime, Noah."
"We both know that was a text message. You aren't even looking at the time."
She kisses him, "Goodnight, son." She reaches down to turn off his light.
"Can I have one of those? I'll keep it right here in my drawer."
She hands him one of the black and white sonogram photos.
"Love you," she reminds him as she heads out the door.
"Love you more."
Olivia stands in the break room absentmindedly stirring her cup of ginger tea. Her train of thought is interrupted by footsteps heading her direction.
"Are you feeling alright?" Amanda practically sucker punches her with the question.
"Just tired," Olivia insists.
"Just tired? You've been saying that a lot lately."
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me."
"Liv, even if you're not I would still have your back."
"I have a meeting I've got to get to," Olivia excuses herself.
She leaves the squad room, and heads off to an appointment. It's been some time since the conversation that she has had with Fin. He has been as silent as a body at the bottom of the Hudson. Despite the fact that she has always known him to be loyal to a flaw the situation is a lot to ask of anyone. Her intrusive thought process is interrupted by an overwhelming wave of nausea. She wretches into a trash can before she makes it to the car. She pulls the travel sized bottle of scope out of her pocket. After a quick swish she continues on her business as usual.
As Olivia climbs into the car she gets the distinct sense that she isn't alone. She rolls her eyes at the absurdity as she pulls out of her parking spot. She does all important things alone, she reminds herself. Less than a minute after she has left her parking space she is stuck in a line of traffic at a red light.
"I could have already killed you," a familiar voice tells her.
"Unlikely. I knew it was you. I could hear you breathing. Fin, why the hell are you laying in the backseat?"
"Last time I checked you haven't mentioned your condition to anyone other than myself. I was trying to be discreet."
"There are other ways to have discreet conversations," she reminds him, "I've heard that the phone tends to be a somewhat reliable method of communication these days."
"I am responding in person to the message that I received."
"Fin, you are going to have to be more specific than that. I generally send you a dozen messages a day. Sometimes I send group messages."
"How many messages do you send to me about important appointments?"
"You are in no way obligated to join me. You don't have to accompany me to this appointment. Fin you…"
He cuts her off, "This is why you do everything alone. Have you ever considered that? You are so afraid of getting hurt that you never let anyone in. I have been your colleague, and friend for eighteen years. What the hell am I going to do? Haven't I proven myself to you, yet? Let me be supportive of you. I mean damn, Liv!"
"What does supportive of me look like from your perspective?"
"I know that you are an independent human being. There is very little that you cannot do on your own. I also know, as someone who, at times has suffered from a similar condition, know that sometimes you don't want to do absolutely everything on your own. I will show up, and if at any point you want me to stop showing up I'll stop. Does that sound like a deal? I mean you wouldn't have asked me if I wanted to come to this appointment with you, if part of you wasn't hoping that I might."
"That seems relatively fair," she agrees.
"My spidey-senses are telling me that you are particularly nervous about this appointment."
"I am no spring chicken, Fin. Every OB/GYN appointment makes me nervous."
"Anything special about this one?"
"Nothing other than them trying to convince me once again to undergo genetic testing."
"Can I ask what your opposition to genetic testing is?"
"Are you familiar with the process?"
"I have read up on it. I certainly wouldn't want someone jabbing a needle in to my abdomen. It doesn't sound particularly appealing to me, and I'm not incubating a small human. I of course, support whatever decision that you make."