Title: Finding A Way Home

Author: Andrea (CarbyLove@aol.com)

Rating: R

Summary: Abby and Carter broke up. But there's a little something keeping them together and keeping their feelings for each other alive and kicking. It took them a while, but they finally decided to give into those feelings they were trying to deny and get back together. When last we saw them, they were still in the midst of one very long, very eventful 'first date.' So now what?

Author's Note: This one is for COURTNEY. Thanks for the migraine, dude. How did you know that's what I wanted for Christmas? Seriously, thanks for the input. Sorry if this still isn't ideal. You can't win them all. And thanks to LISA for the reassurance. Thanks to all my loyal readers, and a special thanks to everyone who reviews. Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. This whole writing fanfic thing is getting increasingly … complicated. Difficult, even. So enjoy this update, I don't know when (if?) I'll manage to do it again.

*~*~*~*

Finding A Way Home

Chapter 14: Up On the Roof

"You can run, but you can't hide," Susan says, shutting the exam room door behind her.

"Who's hiding? I was … resting." So I just happened to be resting in an empty exam room instead of the lounge … I'm not hiding from Susan. Not really.

"Yes, but you've been avoiding me all night."

"No, I haven't."

"Of course you have. And I think it's truly unfair. I mean, how many times did I talk you off that ledge yesterday?" She asks, before breaking into an imitation of me. "Help me, Susan, I don't know what to wear. How do you think I should do my hair? What shoes should I wear? Which color should I paint my nails?"

"Oh, I did not ask you what color I should paint my nails. Or anything about my shoes. And I was just … consulting you about my hair and clothes."

"Yeah, but you consulted me every five minutes. So it seems only fair that you should at least tell me how it went."

"How what went?"

"The Geneva Convention, Abby," She says in a flat voice. I guess she doesn't really want a history lesson. "Your date!"

"Oh, that."

"Yes, Abby," she says with exaggeration, in a slightly patronizing tone, "… that. So c'mon, cut the crap, Ab. I want the details."

"Details?" I ask nervously. I don't think I even want to give Susan the details.

"Well, let's start slowly. How did it go? Good? Bad?"

"It was … fine."

"Fine?"

"Yeah."

"'Fine,' she says. All that agonizing that I went through with you and all I get is fine? There's something you're not telling me. What is it? Did you two run off to Vegas and elope?"

"No! Besides, I wouldn't want to copy off you."

"Oh, sorry. You went to Tahoe and eloped?"

"We didn't go anywhere and elope!"

"You stayed here and eloped? Is that even possible?"

"We didn't elope! And we didn't run off anywhere, either."

"Then where were you all day?"

"What do you mean? I was home all day."

"With the phone off the hook? I must have tried to call you six times. Nothing but a busy signal."

"Well, I was … resting up for my shift tonight."

"Alone, I suppose?" She asks, sitting down next to me on the gurney I'm occupying.

"No. Of course not."

"Really?" Susan's eyebrows shoot up as she leans toward me, in gleeful anticipation, I suppose.

"Well, I'm never alone these days," I say patting my belly.

"Oh. That's not funny. C'mon … tell me about the date."

"Well, we went to dinner."

"Okay. And?"

"And … we ate pizza."

"Uh-huh. And?"

"And then we went to a movie. It was pretty good."

"And?"

"Oh! And the baby started kicking."

"Really? She did?" I nod with a little smile. "Is she kicking now?" I nod again, then reach for Susan's hand, putting it on my stomach.

"Oh! I felt that," she says after a minute.

"Yeah, me too."

"You're getting quite a little belly there." She lifts my shirt up to better inspect the little belly.

"Mm-hmm," I agree, tugging my shirt back down over my exposed stomach.

"When did it start?"

"Probably weeks ago, but I only noticed last night. Just after the movie ended, in fact."

"So Carter was there?"

"Yep. She's got good timing, I guess." I look down at the little bump under my shirt, rubbing it fondly.

"He must have been excited."

"Speechless, even. I think he was kinda … blown away."

"I guess that was the highlight of the date, huh?"

"Well, one of them."

"What does that mean?" I just look at her. "Abby!"

"What do you think it means?"

"Oh my God. I should have known -- it's written all over you."

"Am I walking funny?" I didn't think I was … but if she thinks it's that obvious … maybe I am.

"No." She gives me a look. "That … good?"

"No. I mean, yeah, it was, but …"

"That … rough?"

"No! That … often." Okay, now I'm blushing.

"Ooh," Susan says in a knowing voice. "Making up for lost time?"

"I guess," I say with a nervous giggle. "So how exactly is it written all over me?"

She shrugs. "You're just … kinda glowy."

"I don't think that's a word. But, you know, I am pregnant. So if I'm glowy … that's probably why."

"Nah, this is something else. You look … contented, relaxed. Happy, I guess."

"Well … I am. I mean …"

Just then the door opens. I turn to look and see Carter peeking in at us. As soon as he catches sight of me, his face lights up in a smile. He walks across the room and leans down to give me a hello kiss. I automatically lift my head toward him and our lips meet in a quick kiss.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi." And he leans into kiss me again, a slightly longer kiss this time.

"So that's how it is with you two, now, huh?" Susan says, causing us both to open our eyes and look toward her, our faces still mere centimeters apart.

"You didn't tell her?" John asks, straightening up and then moving to sit down next to me, putting me in the middle.

"Of course I did."

"I figured as much. You usually tell her everything."

"She didn't tell me everything," Susan says, causing me to swivel my head around toward her. "In fact, we were just getting to the good part when you showed up."

"The good part?" Carter asks, sounding like he's not sure he wants to know.

"Yeah, you know … the details," Susan says.

"You're not getting the details," Carter tell her.

"That's what you think," Susan informs him.

"Abby, tell her she's not getting the details." I feel like I'm at a tennis match the way I'm craning my neck back and forth. I give Carter a long look before I turn back to Susan.

"You're not getting the details," I tell her with a smile and waggle of my eyebrows. Although in all honesty, I'm not sure I will give her the details. But I'm not telling Carter that. Especially since he's trying to boss me around.

"Abby!" Carter screeches behind me. Now how did he know? He couldn't possibly see the face I made at Susan. But he could probably tell from the tone of my voice.

"What?" I ask, whipping my head around toward him.

"Don't do that," he says, wagging his finger at me.

"Don't wag your finger at me," I say, grabbing the offending digit.

"Are you gonna make me stop?" He asks, twisting his finger out of my grasp and then interlacing all his fingers with mine.

"Maybe."

"And just how do you plan to do that?" He asks, leaning his head closer to mine.

"Well, I can think of a few ways," I tell him, moving in to kiss him.

"Okay, well, this is sounding a little bit too much like foreplay to me, so I think I'm gonna get out of here," Susan says, standing up.

"Relax, Sus," I say, "We're not gonna do anything in here."

"Oh sure, famous last words. So I'll be sitting here trying to talk to you two, and the next thing I know I'll be covered in random articles of your clothing. No thanks. I'll just see you guys … later." With that, she turns and heads out the door.

"So now that we're alone…" Carter says.

"Don't even think about it," I tell him.

"That's not what I came here for anyway."

"Oh no?"

"Nope. I came to bring you your surprise."

"Oh, yeah."

"Try to calm down, Ab. All this excitement isn't good for the baby." I roll my eyes at him. "Would you relax? It's no big deal. Can you take a break?"

"I just took one."

"So take another one."

"Well …"

"C'mon … Susan'll lie for you."

So I let him lead me, hand-in-hand, through the halls to the elevator. We only have to hide twice, ducking into an alcove and an exam room respectively, in order to avoid our colleagues.

"Where are we going?" I ask as we head upstairs.

"You need to learn some patience, Abby."

"Hmph," is about all I have to say to that.

He shakes his head at me as he leads the way onto the roof.

"I would have preferred the river," he says, "But I didn't think there would be enough time. So … this seemed like a good choice. We can still enjoy the stars."

"It's a picnic," I say with a smile. There's a blanket spread out, a couple big pillows tossed on top of it, a picnic basket waiting in the middle.

"I figured it would be a pretty safe bet that you would be hungry."

"Yeah, that's pretty much a sure thing these days."

"So what are you waiting for?" He asks me, giving me a gentle push toward my awaiting picnic. When we reach the blanket, he takes my hands and helps me settle down onto one of the pillows.

"Thank you," I say with a small laugh.

"You're welcome." He settles down next to me and begins unpacking the picnic basket. The first thing to come out are several low, wide candles that he sets up and lights.

"A candlelight picnic." I draw my knees up in front of me, resting my hands on top of them, my chin on top of my hands while I watch him remove bread, cheese, fruit and sparkling juice from the basket.

"Ever been on one of those before?"

"Nope," I say, shaking my head. "So what's the occasion?"

"Well, we did just get back together. That's cause enough for celebration, isn't it?" I just shrug. "Besides, why does it have to be a special occasion? Can't it just be for no reason at all? Just because I felt like it?"

"I'm not used to all this fuss over nothing."

"It's not nothing. You're having my baby. She just started kicking … Besides, it's no trouble. It's just a picnic."

"Well, I haven't been on a lot of picnics in my life. And only one that someone has packed especially for me."

"Oh, yeah? And here I thought I was being wildly original."

"Well, it wasn't a candlelight picnic. And trust me, it wasn't nearly this nice. Besides, there were … ulterior motives." Carter raises his eyebrows at me in question. "It was an anniversary, I think. Knowing Richard he forgot, and it was the only thing he could pull together last minute. Not to mention that he always was a cheap bastard."

Carter laughs at that, but then his face clouds over a bit.

"What?" I ask. He just shakes his head, but I can see that something is bothering him. I think I can guess what. "I'm sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have said anything." I reach out and grab his hand. "But really, this is much more special."

"It's not that." He turns my hand over in his own and traces a pattern on my palm.

"Then what is it?"

"It's … silly."

"That's okay. You can tell me."

He looks at me for a long minute. "Well, sometimes I get kind of … jealous."

"Of … Richard? Why? The man is a horse's ass."

"Yeah, but he was your … husband."

"Pfft … don't remind me."

"You know what I mean, Abby. You were married to him. I'm just …"

"The father of my child."

"Yeah … but even so. He was still … first."

"First? What are you talking about? He wasn't first. Remember Howie?"

"That's not what I was talking about."

"Then what were you talking about? First? First to what? Oh …" I say, light dawning as I feel some fluttering in my abdomen. "First to … get me pregnant?"

"Well … he was." Carter looks down, blushing. Probably worrying that he's brought up a sensitive subject. I put my hand on his cheek, a finger under his chin so that I can lift his head up and look him in the eye.

"Yeah, but … that doesn't matter. It doesn't matter who's first … it's the last dance that counts. And it's your baby that I'm having. What I couldn't do with Richard, I'm doing with you. Because of you. You're the reason why I couldn't go through with the abortion this time. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be sitting here with this little round belly that's thumping against my hand."

"I know," he says, his hand joining mine on my belly, "But it's just kinda weird."

"What is?"

"Well, you're having my baby, but you have his name."

"That doesn't matter, either."

"It matters to me. I don't want out baby being born to you while you have another man's name."

"John …" I get busy arranging the food, finding a plate, piling up some cheese and fruit. I have an idea where this conversation is going, but I don't really want to go there. Getting back together has been great … wonderful even. But it's only been a day. I'm not ready to make him any promises yet.

"Abby." I look up at him, hastily stuffing a piece of cheese in my mouth. My eyes meet his again, and for a moment we have one of those silent conversations where neither of us has to say a word. I know what he's thinking, and it involves visions of me in a white dress, waddling down the aisle I'm afraid. I can tell that he senses my reluctance. His face changes slightly as a bubble of frustration makes its way to the surface.

"Well, we should," Carter finally says, his light tone not really masking the underlying irritation.

"We … should?" I ask. "That's exactly what I don't want. You feeling obligated."

"I didn't mean it like that, Abby. I just meant … we're back together, we're having a baby. No matter what, our lives are forever entwined now. And that's fine with me… in fact, it's exactly what I want … because I don't want to live my life without you. I know that now. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I …" he pauses, presumably trying to come up with the perfect words to convince me. Finally, he simply says, "I love you. So why not get married?"

I look at him for a long minute, trying to decide how to respond. In the end I retreat to the familiar flip response. "What is it with you and these rooftop proposals?"

"Well, the last one went so swimmingly well, I just couldn't resist," he says, deadpan, but amused, judging by the look on his face. I just give him a look. "I'm not proposing, Abby. I didn't want to put you on the spot like that. I know that things have been … well, we've been through a rough patch, and we're only now staring to figure it all out. But I'm sure, now, of what I want. I want to be with you. For the rest of my life. But I don't want to rush you. Or make you feel pressured …"

"But?" I ask, thinking there must be one coming.

"But … I do think we should talk about it. I want you to know where I stand. And I want to marry you. Because we belong together. Because I can't imagine myself spending the rest of my life with anyone other than you. But I'm not going to ask you and force your hand. When you're ready, the offer will still be on the table."

"You're not gonna try to talk me into it?" I ask, surprised, but relieved.

"Nope."

"But you just said … well, you know, all that stuff about me having Richard's name when I give birth to your baby."

"Well, maybe by then you won't." He waggles his eyebrows at me. "But if not … well, that does bother me, I'm not going to pretend it doesn't. But it's more important to me that when … if we get married, you're sure that it's what you want. That's more important than being married before the baby gets here. And if you're never sure, well …"

"No matter what, this baby's a Carter." I guess it's not much of a consolation, but at least it's something.

"And I want that duly noted when she's born." He's shaking his finger at me, but smiling.

"It will be. But you're wagging your finger at me again."

"So?"

"So … cut it out."

"Okay, okay," he says, waving his hands in an 'I give up' gesture before turning his attention to the food.

"John?" I ask, fiddling with a piece of bread, tearing tiny pieces off and popping them into my mouth.

"Hmm?" He asks, his mouth full.

"I thought you wanted to talk about it."

He swallows hastily, "'Bout what?"

"Uh … you know. About … getting married? Don't you want to know how I feel about it?"

"Well … I kinda figured you didn't want to. Get married, that is."

"I wouldn't exactly say that. It's not that I don't want to … it's just … I wouldn't want to do it for the wrong reasons. I just want to take some time to … make sure it's gonna stick." I look up at him, giving him a little grin. "So I'm not saying no … I'm just saying not yet."

"Except I didn't ask."

"Yeah, I know. I just hope you're not too upset."

"I understand. I do."

"Really? Because I don't want to … hurt you. I want to be together. It's just … all this change is kinda hard for me. I need to take it one step at a time. You know?"

"Yeah, I know. Of course, there's always a long engagement." He gives me a lopsided, hopeful smile with that one.

"Carter …" I'm not buying, but I can't help but smile at his eagerness. A part of me wishes that I could give him what he wants, but it's just too soon for either of us to be making that kind of commitment.

"Okay. Okay, no strings. I'm not gonna ask you to make any promises."

"Thank you."

"Of course … there is one other option."

"What's that?"

"You could move in with me."

"Into the mansion?" I think my voice went up a couple octaves on that one.

"It is where I live."

"Oh, Carter. I don't know. The place is huge. And all the servants … and … well, it would be like living in a castle."

"Exactly. A castle for our little princess here," he says, putting his hand back on my belly, "And you could be the queen."

I just shake my head at him. "Would that make you the king? I'm not so sure about that."

"C'mon, Ab …it could be fun." He wraps his arm around and pulls me against him.

"I don't know. I'm not sure I could be comfortable there. Besides, I'm not gonna just move out of my apartment. I must have at least a good six months left on my lease."

"Well, then you've got plenty of time to think it over." Stress on the thinking it over part, I think.

"Yeah, okay. I'll think about it."

"Really?" I nod, then shiver a bit. "You cold?" He asks. But before I can even answer, he's taking off his jacket, wrapping it around me. I slip my arms into the sleeves and pull it closed around me, before leaning against him again.

"Thanks."

"It's the least I could do, since I'm the one who dragged you up here."

"Without mentioning that I might want to bring my coat."

"Well, I didn't want to give away the surprise."

"The picnic is the surprise, right?" I ask, just making sure.

"Yeah. You're not gonna bite into a ring anywhere." He really seems to be taking this pretty well, joking around with me about it and everything. "But you know, you're really making things complicated."

"Complicated?"

"Yeah, I don't know what we're gonna do about the nursery now."

"Don't remind me about that, either."

"I don't get it, Ab. What's the big deal about the baby stuff? It's supposed to be fun."

"I know. But it isn't. It's silly, I know. But there're just so many choices. And I don't know where to start. I know it's ridiculous, but I'm gonna agonize over every last little thing, even though I'm sure I'd be happy with any of them. But when I'm staring at twenty high chairs, how am I supposed to know which one to get? Not to mention bottles, pacifiers, diapers … people write entire books on the subject."

"Is it really stressing you out that much?"

"Yeah. I know it's dumb, but … I don't know, I just dread the whole thing. Seventy-two hours of labor sounds like more fun than trying to outfit the nursery. I wish it would all just magically appear."

"Abby …" He's laughing at me now. "It won't be that bad. I promise. And I'll be there to help. We'll just get one thing at a time. Or we'll get it all over with at once. Whichever is easier for you. And believe me, it won't be as bad as labor."

"I guess," I say, still not convinced. I look up at him and see him shaking his head, but smiling in amusement.

"Only you, Abby. But you sure do keep things interesting. I never know what to expect."

"Hurricane Abby, huh?"

"Tornado. You're the tornado."

"Same difference."

"Close enough., I guess. But sometimes I wonder …"

"What?" I ask, looking up at him.

"Well …" He gives me that charming, winsome smile of his. "What am I gonna do with you, huh?" He leans down and kisses my forehead. I just shrug.

"I can think of several things, but none of them would be very appropriate or … comfortable here," I tell him, reaching my hand up to his cheek, bringing his face down so I can kiss him as a little teaser of things to come.

"Guess I'll just have to give you dessert, then."

"But that's what I was just saying, I don't think it would work out so well here. We'll have to save it for later."

"No, Ab … I meant actual dessert."

"Oh … there's dessert? Why didn't you say so sooner?" I lean forward and peer into the picnic basket. "Oh … cake!"

"Chocolate cake. But I didn't make it."

"Yeah, the bakery box kinda tipped me off on that one."

"Nothing gets by you. Our baby is so lucky … she's gonna have such a smart mommy."

"Shut up."

"I was serious."

"Yeah, right. Smart? More like smart ass."

"Well, that too. But we'll call it your quick wit."

"Uh-huh."

"Really, Abby. We're so lucky."

"We are? I mean, we are … but what exactly are you talking about?"

"Actually, when I said 'we,' I was talking about the princess and I. We're lucky to have you."

"I don't know about that. But I think the baby and I are pretty lucky to have you."

"Well, then … I guess it's our daughter who is luckiest of all. I'm gonna do my best to be a good dad. And you, you're gonna be a great mom."

"I hope so."

"I know so. Anything you put your mind to Abby, you can do. And do it well. You'll be great."

"Great?"

"Absolutely. Not a doubt in my mind." He gives me a big a grin, and then leans forward to kiss me.

I wish I had his confidence … about the baby, about us. He's so sure everything is going to work out perfectly. As much as I'd love to believe it, there's still a part of me that doubts. I don't know if I can get this right. But I am going to try. Because more than anything, I want this to work. After all, John and this baby are my chance at something good -- a normal life, maybe even a happy family. And as scared as I sometimes am, I know that they are the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I wouldn't want it any other way.