DISCLAIMER: The characters are the property of Viacom and Spelling/Goldberg Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. The story is completely my own.
TITLE: A Is For Anniversary
RATING: PG13
SETTING: Second season, before 'A Matter Of Justice.'
SUMMARY: This continues the alphabet series. It explains the events leading up to the tragic anniversary dinner.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Once again I want to thank Bridget for being a great beta reader and for allowing me to vent my ideas. This story is a prequel to my story 'Aftermath.'
CHAPTER ONE: THE QUESTION
The day for Mike all started with what should have been a simple question.
"Hey, Mike? What are you going to get Jill for an anniversary present?" Terry asked curiously as they were getting dressed in the locker room.
"I've been racking my brain for weeks! Whatever I do get her, I know she's going to one-up me somehow. Why is it that women are so much better at shopping for gifts than men are?" Mike asked, slamming his locker closed.
"Because women have that inbred shopping gene. They live for that kind of stuff. I know when I have to buy a gift for a woman, I just grab the first bottle of perfume that I find," Willie added, smiling at the two guys.
"I can't get her perfume," Mike said.
"Why not?" Willie asked.
"Because perfume is not an anniversary type present, William," he explained with mock patience. "Birthdays, yes. Christmas, yes. But, an anniversary present requires a lot more thought," Mike said reflectively.
"Don't worry, man. You'll think of something," Terry said, slapping Mike on the back.
"I hope so. I only have eight days," Mike sighed as the three men walked out of the locker room.
"Hey, Mike? You want to go out and shoot some pool or something after we get off duty? Maybe we can give you some ideas," Willie suggested.
"I'm not sure I'm going to like the ideas you guys give me, but, yeah, shooting some pool sounds great," Mike agreed as they walked into the turnout room for roll call.
Meanwhile, Jill was sitting in the cafeteria at the hospital trying to eat but she found she had no appetite. As a matter of fact she felt positively awful. One of her friends spotted her as she was walking by.
"Jill, are you all right? You look a little green," the young nurse said with a look of concern.
"Yeah, I'm probably just coming down with something. Thanks, Laura," Jill said, picking at her plate again. Right after she returned to duty she was called to the phone. "Hello?" She asked wearily, hoping she didn't sound as tired as she suddenly felt.
"Hi, babe. It's me. Listen, I'm going to go out after work and shoot some pool with the guys. I'll try not to get home too late," Mike promised.
"Okay. Then, I guess I'll see you when you get home," Jill sighed.
"Hey, are you okay? I can let Terry and Willie know if you don't want me to go out tonight," Mike offered, picking up on her tone of voice.
"No, I'm sorry. It's just been a long day, that's all. Have a good time. I'll see you when you get home," Jill said.
"Okay. I love you," Mike told her.
"I love you, too. Bye," Jill said, hanging up the phone. Actually, maybe some quiet time for herself was exactly what she needed. She could take a hot bubble bath and curl up with a good book. It would be nice to be able to go to sleep early for a change. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so drained.
CHAPTER TWO: MAKING ROOM IN THE DOGHOUSE
Mike put his key in the front door and tried to creep into the apartment as quietly as possible. He hadn't intended to stay out as late as he did or to drink as much as he had, but they'd started buying pitchers and shooting pool and the time had just slipped away from him until the bartender suddenly announced the last call.
Jill was asleep when she heard sounds from the bathroom. She woke up and turned a lamp on, looking at the clock by her side of the bed. It was almost three in the morning. "Mike?"
"Yeah?" Mike poked his head out of the bathroom door.
"Please tell me you're not just now getting home," she pleaded, trying very hard not to lose her temper.
"I'm sorry. We started buying pitchers and playing pool. I didn't realize how late it was getting," he explained apologetically.
"Did your watch stop or did you just not look at it?! When you said you were going out with Willie and Terry I figured you meant for a couple of hours, not all night! You're going to look real good going into roll call tomorrow with a hangover! Ryker's liable to have your head on a platter!" Jill demanded furiously, getting out of bed and confronting him.
"I don't have to go in until three. By then, my hangover should be under control," Mike explained guiltily while splashing water on his face. The last thing he wanted to do was to have an argument.
"You're working second shift tomorrow? Since when?!" Jill asked angrily.
"Since I switched with Terry. He's the one that's going to be going into roll call with the hangover, if that makes you feel any better," Mike snapped sarcastically.
Jill was going to say something else, when an intense wave of nausea overwhelmed her. She shoved him out of the way and slammed the door closed.
Mike sat on the bed and put his head in his hands, willing the room to stop spinning. He went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and two aspirins. He could still hear Jill when he came back into the bedroom.
After several minutes the door opened and she dragged herself out of the bathroom, still looking a little green. "This conversation isn't over by a long shot, Danko," she whispered shakily. "I'm just too tired to argue any further about it right now."
"Are you all right?" He asked in consternation.
"Yeah, I think I'm coming down with the stomach flu or something," Jill moaned weakly, dragging herself back into bed.
Mike draped the covers over her carefully, then squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "I'm going to go take a shower. I'll be out in a few minutes. I really am sorry."
Jill barely heard him, rolling over and curling into a ball. She'd just about dozed off when she felt Mike climb into bed. A few minutes later, he turned toward her and wrapped his arms around her. Jill froze as his hands began a slow exploration. She gently disengaged his hands and moved further away from him, hoping he'd get the hint. But Mike wasn't about to give up so easily. He once again pulled her close and began gently kissing her neck, knowing that always got a response from her. And it did this time, too. It just wasn't the one Mike was hoping for.
"Damn it, Mike! Go take a cold shower!" She exploded, jerking out of his embrace. "I don't feel like making love, especially when you're three sheets to the wind!"
"Jill, I told you I was sorry. I don't know what else you expect me to say," Mike said.
"You also told me once that if ever I didn't want to make love, all I had to do was say so. Do you remember that conversation?" Jill demanded, her eyes blazing.
"Yes, I remember that conversation," he mocked, not knowing what was going on. " But don't you think you're blowing this way out of proportion? I mean, it's not the first time I've gone out with Willie and Terry and lost track of time. It probably won't be the last, either," Mike snapped, now too angry to sleep.
"You could have told me this afternoon that you switched shifts with Terry," Jill complained petulantly.
"Oh, is that what this is all about?! The fact that I'm working swing shift today? Jill, I don't get bent out of shape when you work those crazy split shifts they schedule you for all the time. We don't have normal nine to five jobs. I thought we acknowledged that little fact a long time ago," Mike pointed out sharply, edging slowly towards her.
"I'm tired, Mike. I just want to go to sleep," Jill finally stated simply, turning away from him. She knew he was right. She just didn't know what was wrong with her.
"Just like that? You don't want to continue this little discussion? What's wrong with you? You like arguing more than any person I've ever met," Mike said suspiciously.
"Mike, it's late," she explained with exaggerated patience. "I don't feel well. I have to get up in two hours. If you want, we can continue this 'discussion' another time. Now please go to sleep," Jill begged, fluffing her pillow and settling down into its softness.
"Okay. I love you," he said, leaning down and kissing her.
Terry was getting dressed the next afternoon when Mike walked into the locker room.
"Thanks for switching shifts with me, man. I really appreciate it," Terry said.
"I hope you do, because I am soooo deep in the doghouse right now that it isn't even funny," Mike complained as he opened his locker.
"Jill didn't like you coming home at three in the morning, huh?" Terry guessed wryly.
"Well, let me put it this way. I'm probably going to remain celibate for the rest of my married life, which, if I pull another stunt like that, won't be for too much longer," Mike explained glumly as he changed into his blues.
"In that case, you'd better make that anniversary present something extra special," Terry advised with a grin.
"Don't remind me," Mike groaned. "I have a week left. But you did remind me of something. I'd better make dinner reservations today or tomorrow before somebody gets our table."
"Are you planning on going to a restaurant that only has one table?"
"No. When I got Jill to come back to live with me after Officer Shaw's retirement party, I took her to Morton's and we had a romantic dinner. I mean...wine, dinner, romantic music, dancing...the works. After that night, the pieces of our marriage started falling back into place. Since then, every time we've gone to Morton's for dinner, we've had this one particular table. It's a tradition," Mike concluded simply.
"Sounds nice. So, I take it that Morton's is one of those expensive places."
"Yeah, that's why we only go there for special occasions. The rest of the year, dinner's out consist of pizza."
"Pizza does sound more my speed," Terry stated simply as he finished dressing and closed his locker.
Jill was lying on the sofa that night when Mike came in from work. He looked at his watch with concern. He knew she often waited for him when he worked swing shift, but she usually waited for him in bed and she was usually asleep.
"Hey, what are you doing in here?" He asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the sofa and taking her hand in his.
"Waiting for you," she answered sleepily.
"You look tired. Are you feeling any better?" He asked, concern etched all over his face.
"A little," she lied, forcing a small smile. "I'm okay as long as I don't move."
"Hey, I've got some news that might make you feel better. I called Morton's this evening and we have reservations for next Wednesday night at 7. And I told them I wanted our table," he concluded, squeezing her shoulder affectionately.
"You're such a romantic," she said, pulling his head down to kiss him.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her into their bedroom. She seemed so pale and frail looking. He changed into his pajamas before joining her in bed. She nestled into his embrace as he drew lazy circles on her arm. Gradually, his circles began to get wider and further down her body.
"What do you think you're doing?" Jill asked innocently.
"I think it's called making up," he explained with a grin as he tilted her head up to kiss her. "You have any objections?"
"Not me," she sighed contentedly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he bent his head down to nibble and tickle his way slowly down her body, trying to blot out everything in her mind but the way Mike was making her feel right at that moment. She slowly ran her fingers up and down his spine, eliciting a soft moan of pleasure from Mike.
"Am I still in the doghouse?" He whispered as he unbuttoned her nightgown and slipped it over her head with help from Jill.
"You will be if you don't get your clothes off," she whispered back, smiling as she unbuttoned his pajama top and slipped it off of his shoulders.
After that, no further words were needed. Communications consisted of touch and sensation only. Jill lay in Mike's arms later, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It had been wonderful to be able to blot out everything that had been taken place the last two days, even if only for a short time. She closed her eyes and dozed off in Mike's arms, wondering how long she was going to be able to sleep before the next massive wave of nausea overtook her. She didn't tell Mike that this had been going on for the past three days. She seemed to have two major attacks; one in the mornings when she got out of bed and the other hit around dinnertime. She decided she that she'd go to her doctor for a checkup just to be on the safe side.
CHAPTER THREE: MIKE BEGINS TO WORRY
The next morning, Mike awoke to the sounds of Jill being violently sick in the bathroom. "Babe, are you okay?" He asked, as he stretched and got out of bed.
A few minutes later she staggered out of the bathroom, looking pale and wan. "Ohhhh," she groaned, slightly doubled over.
Mike hurried to her side and slipped his arms around her. He led her slowly back towards the bed. "You don't look so good," he observed.
"Thanks a lot," she grumbled, stumbling as a wave of vertigo swept through her. "I guess I'd better make an appointment with the doctor after all."
"I think that's a good idea," Mike agreed neutrally, inwardly relieved, reflexively tightening his grip before she could fall over. "I have an idea. Why don't you just relax and I'll fix you breakfast in bed?"
She stood stock still as her stomach started rolling again. "Mike?" She gasped in a thin voice. "If you ever loved me please don't mention that word again."
"What word, breakfast?" He asked blankly.
The nausea swept over her like a tidal wave and her hands flew in front of her mouth. She jerked out of his embrace and bolted back into the bathroom, throwing up again. Mike went into the bathroom, knelt beside her and put one arm across her shoulders in silent sympathy.
After about 20 minutes the nausea finally passed, leaving her exhausted. She slowly straightened and leaned into his shoulder, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Shhhh," he reassured her, getting to his feet, soaking a washcloth in warm water and knelt beside her again. "It's not your fault," he said tenderly, cleaning her up as best as he could. If possible she seemed even paler than before. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed."
"I don't have time to be sick," she complained wearily. She tried to get to her feet but her legs wouldn't support her weight.
Mike tenderly lifted her up in his arms, carried her back to their bed and gently deposited her onto the mattress.
She sighed gratefully and turned away from him, closing her eyes again.
Mike carefully covered her again and felt her forehead. He didn't notice any fever. He stayed by her side for a few minutes, gently brushing the hair from her face.
Mike was reading the newspaper trying to make as little noise as possible when he heard a noise from the doorway. "Well, hello," he greeted eagerly, rapidly putting down his paper and hurrying to her side. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," Jill answered sleepily. "Aren't you supposed to be working the day shift today?"
"I called in sick. I was worried about you." She was still terribly pale. He slipped his arm around and helped her to sit on the couch. "You sure you should be out of bed?"
"Mike, I'm fine," she answered. She read the doubt in his eyes and smiled faintly. "Really."
He studied her intently for a minute, then nodded, not wanting to force the issue. "I was about to fix lunch. Can I get you anything?"
She nodded eagerly. She was suddenly ravenous.
"Okay, milady. You just sit right there. I'll be back in about five minutes."
"I can make the sandwiches," she protested.
"Jill, I mean it," he stated firmly. "Sit right there. It's not often I get to wait on a beautiful woman, okay?"
"There had better only be one woman in your life, buster," she teased.
"Oh, there is," he confirmed, kissing her gently. "She's the most wonderful woman in the world. Maybe I'll introduce you to her some time."
She slapped him on the chest playfully.
He kissed her again. "I mean it, babe. Stay right there. I promise I'll be right back."
"All right, all right," she agreed, touched by his concern.
True to his word he was back five minutes later with two sandwiches and two mugs of tea. He set the tray down on the coffee table.
"Thanks," Jill said gratefully, grabbing her sandwich off the plate and wolfing it down.
He watched her in amazement for a few seconds. This was definitely not normal. He started eating his sandwich at a more leisurely pace. Before he knew what was happening she grabbed the second half of his sandwich and started eating that as well. She blushed under his scrutiny. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just so hungry all of a sudden."
"It's okay," he grinned. "Hey, I made a doctor's appointment for you at 3. You've got plenty of time for another sandwich if you want."
"You what?" She asked quietly, putting down the sandwich.
"I made a doctor's appointment for you at 3," he repeated slowly, confused about her change in mood.
"I told you I'd call the doctor," she continued coldly, folding her arms across her chest.
"What difference does it make who calls him? The important thing is to find out what's wrong, right?"
"I am not a child, Michael Jonathan Danko, and I will not be treated like one!" She all but shouted at him.
"Hey, I'm not treating you like a child!" He exclaimed defensively. "I just thought I'd save you the trouble of having to call. What are you so mad about?"
"I'm an adult, you know. I can pick up a telephone and make my own appointments, thank you very much!" She jumped to her feet and started pacing.
"I know that!" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I can cancel the appointment if you want."
"No, you don't have to do that," she snapped furiously. "It's fine. Everything's just FINE!" She stalked off into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Mike sank against the couch in confusion, wondering what the hell just happened. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't even hear the bedroom door reopen.
"Mike?" Jill began tentatively.
"Yeah?" He asked, not looking at her.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me just now."
"It's okay," he said tonelessly.
"No, it's not okay," she corrected, eyes filling with tears. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm really sorry. Please don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad," he countered. 'Not any more,' he added mentally.
She sat on the couch beside him and started to cry, putting her head on his chest. "I'm sorry, Mike. I really am."
"It's all right, babe," he reassured her, cradling her in his arms and rocking her back and forth gently. "You're just not yourself right now."
After a few minutes she sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I'm glad you made the doctor's appointment for me. Maybe he can tell me what's wrong."
He kissed her on the forehead, not wanting to say anything to set her off again.
"You're really not mad?" She ventured nervously.
"I'm really not mad," he repeated, grinning.
"Okay. I'm going to go change."
"I'll wait right here for you."
A few days later...
"Are you sure?" Jill asked eagerly into the telephone. "I mean, are you really sure?"
"Mrs. Danko, I'm positive," the doctor confirmed. "You're six weeks pregnant."
"Oh, doctor! This is the best anniversary present you could have given me." She heard a key turn in the lock of the front door and glanced at it in alarm. "Listen, I have to go. Thank you so much!" She barely had the receiver back in its cradle when Mike came in. "Hi," she grinned, hurrying over to him and kissing him deeply.
"Wow!" He exclaimed when they finally broke apart. "What was that for?"
"I'm just glad you're home. That's all," she lied innocently, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.
"Uh huh," he commented. "You're not overdrawn again, are you?"
"Not me," she answered honestly, huge smile on her face.
"What?" He asked, smiling himself at her excitement.
"Nothing." She wanted to tell him the news so badly that it was almost a physical pain, but she resolved to wait for two more days until they were at dinner. What better place to tell him than at their favorite table?
"Come on, that's not fair," he complained good-naturedly. "Will you tell me if I guess?"
"You'll never guess," she answered confidently. "But I'll give you one hint. It's the best anniversary present I could ever give you."
"Is that so?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. "That's not much of a hint, you know."
She shrugged her shoulders and practically skipped into the kitchen, humming happily.
Mike sat on the sofa, watching Jill. He couldn't remember ever having seen her so happy and upbeat. "Is this your way of telling me I'd better really come up with something great?"
"Oh, you won't be able to top this one. I guarantee it," Jill said, continuing to hum.
Mike shook his head slowly as he began to read the mail. "Babe, did the doctor call with your tests results?" Mike asked curiously.
"What?!" She glanced up at him in alarm, praying that he didn't suspect anything.
"Your test results," he repeated, studying her closely. "Did they find out what's wrong?"
"Oh!" She exclaimed in relief, leaning against the counter. "He said they're still checking a few things but everything looks normal ," she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.
Jill lay awake that night after Mike had fallen asleep. She rolled over on her left side and just lay there, watching him sleep. She was so excited. She couldn't wait to tell him about the baby. He was going to be a wonderful father. It was going to take every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep the news until Wednesday night when they went out. She wanted to tell him at their table. Sleep finally began to overtake her so she moved closer to Mike, who instinctively reached out and pulled her closer.
CHAPTER FOUR: PRELUDE TO TRAGEDY
Mike walked into the apartment late Wednesday afternoon carrying two dozen long stemmed red roses and a small beribboned box. He walked into the bedroom where Jill was standing in front of the mirror getting dressed. She was wearing a floor length red dress with ruffles around the neck and the cuffs. She smiled when she saw Mike watching her. He walked over and handed her the roses. She smiled as she breathed in their scent.
"These are beautiful, Mike. Thank you," she said as she melted into his embrace. "What's in the box?" She asked as he began to nibble on her neck.
"The box?" He asked, not wishing to be distracted from the business at hand.
"Yes, Michael. The box in your hand," she reminded him, pulling away from him.
"Oh, this box.You'll have to open it and find out," he said, handing her the box as he kissed her again.
Jill sat on the bed with Mike at her side and slowly took the ribbon off of the box. Mike sighed impatiently as she took her time opening it. But she gasped in surprise when she finally saw its contents. Inside was a gold chain.
"Mike, it's beautiful! It'll look great with my dress! I love it! Thank you," she said, turning toward him and kissing him gently.
"Happy anniversary," he grinned, thoroughly pleased with himself. So, what's your gift" He asked mischievously.
"What is this, a contest? I'll give you your gift when we get to the restaurant," she said, her eyes shining brightly.
"What if we don't make it to the restaurant?" He asked huskily as he once again began nibbling on the sensitive skin of her neck. She smelled wonderful.
"Michael," She reluctantly pulled away from him. "You need to get in the shower if we're going to get to the restaurant in time."
"We could stay home and order pizza," he offered suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.
"We'll be doing that the rest of the year after dinner tonight. Shower, Danko! Now!" She exclaimed, practically shoving him toward the bathroom before she spilled the beans.
THE END
TITLE: A Is For Anniversary
RATING: PG13
SETTING: Second season, before 'A Matter Of Justice.'
SUMMARY: This continues the alphabet series. It explains the events leading up to the tragic anniversary dinner.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Once again I want to thank Bridget for being a great beta reader and for allowing me to vent my ideas. This story is a prequel to my story 'Aftermath.'
CHAPTER ONE: THE QUESTION
The day for Mike all started with what should have been a simple question.
"Hey, Mike? What are you going to get Jill for an anniversary present?" Terry asked curiously as they were getting dressed in the locker room.
"I've been racking my brain for weeks! Whatever I do get her, I know she's going to one-up me somehow. Why is it that women are so much better at shopping for gifts than men are?" Mike asked, slamming his locker closed.
"Because women have that inbred shopping gene. They live for that kind of stuff. I know when I have to buy a gift for a woman, I just grab the first bottle of perfume that I find," Willie added, smiling at the two guys.
"I can't get her perfume," Mike said.
"Why not?" Willie asked.
"Because perfume is not an anniversary type present, William," he explained with mock patience. "Birthdays, yes. Christmas, yes. But, an anniversary present requires a lot more thought," Mike said reflectively.
"Don't worry, man. You'll think of something," Terry said, slapping Mike on the back.
"I hope so. I only have eight days," Mike sighed as the three men walked out of the locker room.
"Hey, Mike? You want to go out and shoot some pool or something after we get off duty? Maybe we can give you some ideas," Willie suggested.
"I'm not sure I'm going to like the ideas you guys give me, but, yeah, shooting some pool sounds great," Mike agreed as they walked into the turnout room for roll call.
Meanwhile, Jill was sitting in the cafeteria at the hospital trying to eat but she found she had no appetite. As a matter of fact she felt positively awful. One of her friends spotted her as she was walking by.
"Jill, are you all right? You look a little green," the young nurse said with a look of concern.
"Yeah, I'm probably just coming down with something. Thanks, Laura," Jill said, picking at her plate again. Right after she returned to duty she was called to the phone. "Hello?" She asked wearily, hoping she didn't sound as tired as she suddenly felt.
"Hi, babe. It's me. Listen, I'm going to go out after work and shoot some pool with the guys. I'll try not to get home too late," Mike promised.
"Okay. Then, I guess I'll see you when you get home," Jill sighed.
"Hey, are you okay? I can let Terry and Willie know if you don't want me to go out tonight," Mike offered, picking up on her tone of voice.
"No, I'm sorry. It's just been a long day, that's all. Have a good time. I'll see you when you get home," Jill said.
"Okay. I love you," Mike told her.
"I love you, too. Bye," Jill said, hanging up the phone. Actually, maybe some quiet time for herself was exactly what she needed. She could take a hot bubble bath and curl up with a good book. It would be nice to be able to go to sleep early for a change. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so drained.
CHAPTER TWO: MAKING ROOM IN THE DOGHOUSE
Mike put his key in the front door and tried to creep into the apartment as quietly as possible. He hadn't intended to stay out as late as he did or to drink as much as he had, but they'd started buying pitchers and shooting pool and the time had just slipped away from him until the bartender suddenly announced the last call.
Jill was asleep when she heard sounds from the bathroom. She woke up and turned a lamp on, looking at the clock by her side of the bed. It was almost three in the morning. "Mike?"
"Yeah?" Mike poked his head out of the bathroom door.
"Please tell me you're not just now getting home," she pleaded, trying very hard not to lose her temper.
"I'm sorry. We started buying pitchers and playing pool. I didn't realize how late it was getting," he explained apologetically.
"Did your watch stop or did you just not look at it?! When you said you were going out with Willie and Terry I figured you meant for a couple of hours, not all night! You're going to look real good going into roll call tomorrow with a hangover! Ryker's liable to have your head on a platter!" Jill demanded furiously, getting out of bed and confronting him.
"I don't have to go in until three. By then, my hangover should be under control," Mike explained guiltily while splashing water on his face. The last thing he wanted to do was to have an argument.
"You're working second shift tomorrow? Since when?!" Jill asked angrily.
"Since I switched with Terry. He's the one that's going to be going into roll call with the hangover, if that makes you feel any better," Mike snapped sarcastically.
Jill was going to say something else, when an intense wave of nausea overwhelmed her. She shoved him out of the way and slammed the door closed.
Mike sat on the bed and put his head in his hands, willing the room to stop spinning. He went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and two aspirins. He could still hear Jill when he came back into the bedroom.
After several minutes the door opened and she dragged herself out of the bathroom, still looking a little green. "This conversation isn't over by a long shot, Danko," she whispered shakily. "I'm just too tired to argue any further about it right now."
"Are you all right?" He asked in consternation.
"Yeah, I think I'm coming down with the stomach flu or something," Jill moaned weakly, dragging herself back into bed.
Mike draped the covers over her carefully, then squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "I'm going to go take a shower. I'll be out in a few minutes. I really am sorry."
Jill barely heard him, rolling over and curling into a ball. She'd just about dozed off when she felt Mike climb into bed. A few minutes later, he turned toward her and wrapped his arms around her. Jill froze as his hands began a slow exploration. She gently disengaged his hands and moved further away from him, hoping he'd get the hint. But Mike wasn't about to give up so easily. He once again pulled her close and began gently kissing her neck, knowing that always got a response from her. And it did this time, too. It just wasn't the one Mike was hoping for.
"Damn it, Mike! Go take a cold shower!" She exploded, jerking out of his embrace. "I don't feel like making love, especially when you're three sheets to the wind!"
"Jill, I told you I was sorry. I don't know what else you expect me to say," Mike said.
"You also told me once that if ever I didn't want to make love, all I had to do was say so. Do you remember that conversation?" Jill demanded, her eyes blazing.
"Yes, I remember that conversation," he mocked, not knowing what was going on. " But don't you think you're blowing this way out of proportion? I mean, it's not the first time I've gone out with Willie and Terry and lost track of time. It probably won't be the last, either," Mike snapped, now too angry to sleep.
"You could have told me this afternoon that you switched shifts with Terry," Jill complained petulantly.
"Oh, is that what this is all about?! The fact that I'm working swing shift today? Jill, I don't get bent out of shape when you work those crazy split shifts they schedule you for all the time. We don't have normal nine to five jobs. I thought we acknowledged that little fact a long time ago," Mike pointed out sharply, edging slowly towards her.
"I'm tired, Mike. I just want to go to sleep," Jill finally stated simply, turning away from him. She knew he was right. She just didn't know what was wrong with her.
"Just like that? You don't want to continue this little discussion? What's wrong with you? You like arguing more than any person I've ever met," Mike said suspiciously.
"Mike, it's late," she explained with exaggerated patience. "I don't feel well. I have to get up in two hours. If you want, we can continue this 'discussion' another time. Now please go to sleep," Jill begged, fluffing her pillow and settling down into its softness.
"Okay. I love you," he said, leaning down and kissing her.
Terry was getting dressed the next afternoon when Mike walked into the locker room.
"Thanks for switching shifts with me, man. I really appreciate it," Terry said.
"I hope you do, because I am soooo deep in the doghouse right now that it isn't even funny," Mike complained as he opened his locker.
"Jill didn't like you coming home at three in the morning, huh?" Terry guessed wryly.
"Well, let me put it this way. I'm probably going to remain celibate for the rest of my married life, which, if I pull another stunt like that, won't be for too much longer," Mike explained glumly as he changed into his blues.
"In that case, you'd better make that anniversary present something extra special," Terry advised with a grin.
"Don't remind me," Mike groaned. "I have a week left. But you did remind me of something. I'd better make dinner reservations today or tomorrow before somebody gets our table."
"Are you planning on going to a restaurant that only has one table?"
"No. When I got Jill to come back to live with me after Officer Shaw's retirement party, I took her to Morton's and we had a romantic dinner. I mean...wine, dinner, romantic music, dancing...the works. After that night, the pieces of our marriage started falling back into place. Since then, every time we've gone to Morton's for dinner, we've had this one particular table. It's a tradition," Mike concluded simply.
"Sounds nice. So, I take it that Morton's is one of those expensive places."
"Yeah, that's why we only go there for special occasions. The rest of the year, dinner's out consist of pizza."
"Pizza does sound more my speed," Terry stated simply as he finished dressing and closed his locker.
Jill was lying on the sofa that night when Mike came in from work. He looked at his watch with concern. He knew she often waited for him when he worked swing shift, but she usually waited for him in bed and she was usually asleep.
"Hey, what are you doing in here?" He asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the sofa and taking her hand in his.
"Waiting for you," she answered sleepily.
"You look tired. Are you feeling any better?" He asked, concern etched all over his face.
"A little," she lied, forcing a small smile. "I'm okay as long as I don't move."
"Hey, I've got some news that might make you feel better. I called Morton's this evening and we have reservations for next Wednesday night at 7. And I told them I wanted our table," he concluded, squeezing her shoulder affectionately.
"You're such a romantic," she said, pulling his head down to kiss him.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her into their bedroom. She seemed so pale and frail looking. He changed into his pajamas before joining her in bed. She nestled into his embrace as he drew lazy circles on her arm. Gradually, his circles began to get wider and further down her body.
"What do you think you're doing?" Jill asked innocently.
"I think it's called making up," he explained with a grin as he tilted her head up to kiss her. "You have any objections?"
"Not me," she sighed contentedly.
She wrapped her arms around his neck as he bent his head down to nibble and tickle his way slowly down her body, trying to blot out everything in her mind but the way Mike was making her feel right at that moment. She slowly ran her fingers up and down his spine, eliciting a soft moan of pleasure from Mike.
"Am I still in the doghouse?" He whispered as he unbuttoned her nightgown and slipped it over her head with help from Jill.
"You will be if you don't get your clothes off," she whispered back, smiling as she unbuttoned his pajama top and slipped it off of his shoulders.
After that, no further words were needed. Communications consisted of touch and sensation only. Jill lay in Mike's arms later, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It had been wonderful to be able to blot out everything that had been taken place the last two days, even if only for a short time. She closed her eyes and dozed off in Mike's arms, wondering how long she was going to be able to sleep before the next massive wave of nausea overtook her. She didn't tell Mike that this had been going on for the past three days. She seemed to have two major attacks; one in the mornings when she got out of bed and the other hit around dinnertime. She decided she that she'd go to her doctor for a checkup just to be on the safe side.
CHAPTER THREE: MIKE BEGINS TO WORRY
The next morning, Mike awoke to the sounds of Jill being violently sick in the bathroom. "Babe, are you okay?" He asked, as he stretched and got out of bed.
A few minutes later she staggered out of the bathroom, looking pale and wan. "Ohhhh," she groaned, slightly doubled over.
Mike hurried to her side and slipped his arms around her. He led her slowly back towards the bed. "You don't look so good," he observed.
"Thanks a lot," she grumbled, stumbling as a wave of vertigo swept through her. "I guess I'd better make an appointment with the doctor after all."
"I think that's a good idea," Mike agreed neutrally, inwardly relieved, reflexively tightening his grip before she could fall over. "I have an idea. Why don't you just relax and I'll fix you breakfast in bed?"
She stood stock still as her stomach started rolling again. "Mike?" She gasped in a thin voice. "If you ever loved me please don't mention that word again."
"What word, breakfast?" He asked blankly.
The nausea swept over her like a tidal wave and her hands flew in front of her mouth. She jerked out of his embrace and bolted back into the bathroom, throwing up again. Mike went into the bathroom, knelt beside her and put one arm across her shoulders in silent sympathy.
After about 20 minutes the nausea finally passed, leaving her exhausted. She slowly straightened and leaned into his shoulder, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Shhhh," he reassured her, getting to his feet, soaking a washcloth in warm water and knelt beside her again. "It's not your fault," he said tenderly, cleaning her up as best as he could. If possible she seemed even paler than before. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed."
"I don't have time to be sick," she complained wearily. She tried to get to her feet but her legs wouldn't support her weight.
Mike tenderly lifted her up in his arms, carried her back to their bed and gently deposited her onto the mattress.
She sighed gratefully and turned away from him, closing her eyes again.
Mike carefully covered her again and felt her forehead. He didn't notice any fever. He stayed by her side for a few minutes, gently brushing the hair from her face.
Mike was reading the newspaper trying to make as little noise as possible when he heard a noise from the doorway. "Well, hello," he greeted eagerly, rapidly putting down his paper and hurrying to her side. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," Jill answered sleepily. "Aren't you supposed to be working the day shift today?"
"I called in sick. I was worried about you." She was still terribly pale. He slipped his arm around and helped her to sit on the couch. "You sure you should be out of bed?"
"Mike, I'm fine," she answered. She read the doubt in his eyes and smiled faintly. "Really."
He studied her intently for a minute, then nodded, not wanting to force the issue. "I was about to fix lunch. Can I get you anything?"
She nodded eagerly. She was suddenly ravenous.
"Okay, milady. You just sit right there. I'll be back in about five minutes."
"I can make the sandwiches," she protested.
"Jill, I mean it," he stated firmly. "Sit right there. It's not often I get to wait on a beautiful woman, okay?"
"There had better only be one woman in your life, buster," she teased.
"Oh, there is," he confirmed, kissing her gently. "She's the most wonderful woman in the world. Maybe I'll introduce you to her some time."
She slapped him on the chest playfully.
He kissed her again. "I mean it, babe. Stay right there. I promise I'll be right back."
"All right, all right," she agreed, touched by his concern.
True to his word he was back five minutes later with two sandwiches and two mugs of tea. He set the tray down on the coffee table.
"Thanks," Jill said gratefully, grabbing her sandwich off the plate and wolfing it down.
He watched her in amazement for a few seconds. This was definitely not normal. He started eating his sandwich at a more leisurely pace. Before he knew what was happening she grabbed the second half of his sandwich and started eating that as well. She blushed under his scrutiny. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm just so hungry all of a sudden."
"It's okay," he grinned. "Hey, I made a doctor's appointment for you at 3. You've got plenty of time for another sandwich if you want."
"You what?" She asked quietly, putting down the sandwich.
"I made a doctor's appointment for you at 3," he repeated slowly, confused about her change in mood.
"I told you I'd call the doctor," she continued coldly, folding her arms across her chest.
"What difference does it make who calls him? The important thing is to find out what's wrong, right?"
"I am not a child, Michael Jonathan Danko, and I will not be treated like one!" She all but shouted at him.
"Hey, I'm not treating you like a child!" He exclaimed defensively. "I just thought I'd save you the trouble of having to call. What are you so mad about?"
"I'm an adult, you know. I can pick up a telephone and make my own appointments, thank you very much!" She jumped to her feet and started pacing.
"I know that!" He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I can cancel the appointment if you want."
"No, you don't have to do that," she snapped furiously. "It's fine. Everything's just FINE!" She stalked off into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Mike sank against the couch in confusion, wondering what the hell just happened. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't even hear the bedroom door reopen.
"Mike?" Jill began tentatively.
"Yeah?" He asked, not looking at her.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me just now."
"It's okay," he said tonelessly.
"No, it's not okay," she corrected, eyes filling with tears. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm really sorry. Please don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad," he countered. 'Not any more,' he added mentally.
She sat on the couch beside him and started to cry, putting her head on his chest. "I'm sorry, Mike. I really am."
"It's all right, babe," he reassured her, cradling her in his arms and rocking her back and forth gently. "You're just not yourself right now."
After a few minutes she sniffled and wiped her eyes. "I'm glad you made the doctor's appointment for me. Maybe he can tell me what's wrong."
He kissed her on the forehead, not wanting to say anything to set her off again.
"You're really not mad?" She ventured nervously.
"I'm really not mad," he repeated, grinning.
"Okay. I'm going to go change."
"I'll wait right here for you."
A few days later...
"Are you sure?" Jill asked eagerly into the telephone. "I mean, are you really sure?"
"Mrs. Danko, I'm positive," the doctor confirmed. "You're six weeks pregnant."
"Oh, doctor! This is the best anniversary present you could have given me." She heard a key turn in the lock of the front door and glanced at it in alarm. "Listen, I have to go. Thank you so much!" She barely had the receiver back in its cradle when Mike came in. "Hi," she grinned, hurrying over to him and kissing him deeply.
"Wow!" He exclaimed when they finally broke apart. "What was that for?"
"I'm just glad you're home. That's all," she lied innocently, bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.
"Uh huh," he commented. "You're not overdrawn again, are you?"
"Not me," she answered honestly, huge smile on her face.
"What?" He asked, smiling himself at her excitement.
"Nothing." She wanted to tell him the news so badly that it was almost a physical pain, but she resolved to wait for two more days until they were at dinner. What better place to tell him than at their favorite table?
"Come on, that's not fair," he complained good-naturedly. "Will you tell me if I guess?"
"You'll never guess," she answered confidently. "But I'll give you one hint. It's the best anniversary present I could ever give you."
"Is that so?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. "That's not much of a hint, you know."
She shrugged her shoulders and practically skipped into the kitchen, humming happily.
Mike sat on the sofa, watching Jill. He couldn't remember ever having seen her so happy and upbeat. "Is this your way of telling me I'd better really come up with something great?"
"Oh, you won't be able to top this one. I guarantee it," Jill said, continuing to hum.
Mike shook his head slowly as he began to read the mail. "Babe, did the doctor call with your tests results?" Mike asked curiously.
"What?!" She glanced up at him in alarm, praying that he didn't suspect anything.
"Your test results," he repeated, studying her closely. "Did they find out what's wrong?"
"Oh!" She exclaimed in relief, leaning against the counter. "He said they're still checking a few things but everything looks normal ," she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.
Jill lay awake that night after Mike had fallen asleep. She rolled over on her left side and just lay there, watching him sleep. She was so excited. She couldn't wait to tell him about the baby. He was going to be a wonderful father. It was going to take every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep the news until Wednesday night when they went out. She wanted to tell him at their table. Sleep finally began to overtake her so she moved closer to Mike, who instinctively reached out and pulled her closer.
CHAPTER FOUR: PRELUDE TO TRAGEDY
Mike walked into the apartment late Wednesday afternoon carrying two dozen long stemmed red roses and a small beribboned box. He walked into the bedroom where Jill was standing in front of the mirror getting dressed. She was wearing a floor length red dress with ruffles around the neck and the cuffs. She smiled when she saw Mike watching her. He walked over and handed her the roses. She smiled as she breathed in their scent.
"These are beautiful, Mike. Thank you," she said as she melted into his embrace. "What's in the box?" She asked as he began to nibble on her neck.
"The box?" He asked, not wishing to be distracted from the business at hand.
"Yes, Michael. The box in your hand," she reminded him, pulling away from him.
"Oh, this box.You'll have to open it and find out," he said, handing her the box as he kissed her again.
Jill sat on the bed with Mike at her side and slowly took the ribbon off of the box. Mike sighed impatiently as she took her time opening it. But she gasped in surprise when she finally saw its contents. Inside was a gold chain.
"Mike, it's beautiful! It'll look great with my dress! I love it! Thank you," she said, turning toward him and kissing him gently.
"Happy anniversary," he grinned, thoroughly pleased with himself. So, what's your gift" He asked mischievously.
"What is this, a contest? I'll give you your gift when we get to the restaurant," she said, her eyes shining brightly.
"What if we don't make it to the restaurant?" He asked huskily as he once again began nibbling on the sensitive skin of her neck. She smelled wonderful.
"Michael," She reluctantly pulled away from him. "You need to get in the shower if we're going to get to the restaurant in time."
"We could stay home and order pizza," he offered suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.
"We'll be doing that the rest of the year after dinner tonight. Shower, Danko! Now!" She exclaimed, practically shoving him toward the bathroom before she spilled the beans.
THE END