Title: Serendipity

Author: Andrea

Rating: R, I think. I don't remember. What's it say at the top there?

Spoilers: None. Unless you are still stuck in season 9.

Summary: Abby's having a baby. And, in a shocking turn of events, it was revealed that Carter is the daddy. Since Abby had just fallen on her head, Carter took it upon himself to be her baby-sitter. When last we saw them, they were lounging around Abby's bed discussing all manner of minutia. What happens next? Read on.

Author's Note: Big ups to LISA for the editing. So this one is sort of short and sweet. I may have something else up my sleeve. So if you like this and want some more, you know what to do. But please remember that just like my fics, I too, am spoiler free. So please, let's keep the reviews and e-mails that way, too. Thanks and enjoy!

Chapter 9: Bombshell

Just pick up the phone, I tell myself. Just call her. What's the big deal? You know you're gonna end up doing it eventually, so just do it now. I glance at the clock and try to figure out what she might be doing. She's probably busy. Maybe I should wait until later. I sigh. This is so stupid. I feel like a junior high school kid, afraid to call the girl he likes. What exactly do I think is going to happen, anyway? No time like the present. I pick up the phone and dial.

"Hello?" she answers, not sounding especially harried which I think is probably good.

"Hi."

"Oh, hi." I think she sounds glad to hear that it's me. It's only as I relax that I realize just how tense I've been.

"I wasn't sure I would catch you."

"Well, you did," she says, amused.

"So you're not too busy at the moment?"

"Not at the moment, no." Now she sounds a little tired. I can guess what that means.

"Bad day?"

"Well ..."

"Busy?"

"Always."

"Yeah. So ... how are you?"

"I'm fine."

"But?"

"Oh, nothing. Just a little tired. But I guess that's to be expected."

"You work too hard."

"John ...I'm fine, really."

"I know. But it wouldn't hurt you to take it easy."

"When I need to rest, I do. Okay?"

"Okay. So ... how's the baby?"

She hesitates a moment, and I worry that she's upset with me, having taken my question about the baby all wrong.

"I didn't mean ..." I start, wanting to explain, but she cuts me off.

"I know. The baby's ..." I can hear the smile in her voice, and imagine how it must be playing across her lips, even as her hand unconsciously wanders to her belly. "The baby's great."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Hey," I say, a sudden inspiration coming over me, "Let me talk to the baby."

"What?"

"Come on, please?"

"How do you expect me to arrange that?" I think she's laughing at me.

"Just put the phone to your belly."

"Put the phone to my belly?" She's clearly skeptical.

"Yeah. Please?" I hear a sigh at the other end. "I think it's important that the baby hear my voice as much as possible." I can imagine the look, somewhere between bemusement and exasperation, that's probably on her face now.

"Fine. I can't believe I'm doing this ... okay, go ahead. Talk to the baby." I hear some rustling over the phone, and don't hear the sound of her breathing, so I choose to believe that she really has put the phone up to her belly. Of course, I realize she may not have done any such thing and will be listening to every word I say, laughing at me. But hey, if I can amuse her in any way ...

"Hi, baby," I say. "Hi in there. I just wanted to say hello. I want to make sure you know my voice. And I just wanted to tell you that --"

"John?" There's an urgency to her voice now.

"Yeah?"

"I have to go."

"Okay, but --"

"I'm sorry."

"Call me later," I call in to the phone. But she's already gone.

I hang up the phone, and sit staring at it for a moment. Now what? All that build up for that? I didn't even get to say the things that I wanted to say. That I needed to say. And now I have to wait. So what am I going to do now? Sit by the phone and wait for her to call? Try to figure out a good time to call her back? I sigh and flip on the TV, intending to spend the next few hours in a vegetative state. Mostly, though, my mind keeps turning over all the things that I'd rather not think about. Kem ...and the baby. Abby ... and the baby. This impossible situation that I've managed to get myself into. I know that someone that I care about is going to end up getting hurt. And there are two innocent children caught in the middle. I have to make sure that they don't suffer because of the decisions that I've made. I have to put them first. They only problem is, I don't see how I can possibly give them what they both need. And how can I choose? It's an impossible decision. Except, of course, that deep down, I already know what it is that I want. I just don't know if what I really want is feasible. And if it is ... would it be the right thing to do? So much depends on Abby and Kem. And what it is that they really want. I've made them both promises. But I'm not sure I'll be able to keep all those promises. Or maybe I just don't want to. Still, I have an obligation ...

My thoughts are interrupted by the doorbell. I make my way to the door in somewhat of a daze and open it up to the last person I expected to find.

"Abby." I'm sure the surprise is obvious in my voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Sorry," she says immediately with an embarrassed smile. "I should have called first. I just thought ... never mind. I should go," she says with a wave of her hand, dismissing whatever idea was behind her visit. She turns as if to leave.

"Wait. Abby, don't go." I almost reach out to grab her arm, but stop myself in time. I wouldn't want to send her falling down the stairs yet again.

"If you don't want me here ... if it's a bad time ..."

"No, it's not that. I just wasn't expecting you. But I'm glad you're here." She looks at me, biting at her lower lip, considering something. "Really."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Come on in." I hold the door open for her, and she steps in, with just a little bit of trepidation. "So ... this is a pleasant surprise."

She looks at me with an expression somewhere between amused and annoyed. "Well, you sounded a bit desperate on the phone."

"I did?"

"Carter. You made me hold the phone up to my belly so you could talk to the baby. "

"You really did it?"

"Yeah." She's trying not to smile, but it's not really working. "Right there at the admit desk. I'm sure now everyone thinks I'm crazy."

"I'm sure no one even noticed."

"I guess not or they probably would have started asking nosy questions."

"You still haven't made the big announcement, huh?"

"Nope."

"When are you going to?"

"I'm ... not."

"Don't you think people will figure it out? Sooner or later it's gonna become pretty obvious."

"Fine. Let them figure it out. But until then ... it's none of their business anyway."

"Yeah. But ..."

"So this is your house, huh?" I guess she wants to change the subject, and I guess I'll play along.

"Yeah, come on in." I lead the way to the living room.

"I like it," she says, looking around.

"Thanks. It needs some work, but ... nothing a little paint won't fix, I guess."

"No, it's really nice and ... oh my God, Carter." She's standing by the fireplace, looking at something on the mantle. Oh, I think I know what's caught her attention. "I can't believe you framed this. You framed the sonogram picture?" She holds it up, in case I'm not sure what she's talking about.

"No. I just ... put it in a frame."

"What's the difference?" she asks with a chuckle as she sits down on the couch, framed picture still in hand.

"Well, the way you said it, it makes it sound so ridiculous ... like I took it and had it custom framed or something. I just stuck it in a frame I already had. You know, so it wouldn't get all messed up. Besides, you probably framed one, too. Or put it up on the fridge."

She smiles slowly. "On the fridge."

"I bet you have one in your bag, too."

"My wallet, actually."

"Me too."

She runs her finger over the framed image fondly before putting the picture down on the coffee table and settling back against the couch.

"God, are we pathetic or what?" She asks, looking over at me.

"Not pathetic. Proud. Excited. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that."

"Maybe. But I keep having this feeling that I'm going to turn into one of those obnoxious parents who, every time someone casually asks about the baby, whips out an entire book of pictures and expects glowing exclamations over each and every one."

"So? There's nothing wrong with that, either. And besides, you don't even seem to want to tell people about the baby's existence, I hardly think that anyone needs to worry about you bothering them with a thousand pictures."

"Don't say it like that."

"What?"

"That I don't want anyone to know about the baby. You make it sound like I'm ashamed of it. And I'm not. It's not that; I just want to protect ... it just seems easier right now to not tell the whole world. But I don't think that I can keep it a secret forever. And I wouldn't want to, either. Besides, there's a difference between just not telling everyone and trying to hide it." She seems a bit sensitive about this subject, tearing up a bit as she speaks.

"I know, Abby."

We sit in a somewhat strained silence for a few minutes while I try to figure out a way to get us talking again ... about a safe subject.

"So ..." I finally try, "You really like the house?"

"Yeah." She turns her head and looks at me again. "Yeah. It's very ... you."

"You think so?"

"Uh-huh. It's nice. But not pretentious. Comfortable. Spacious. A little bit fancy, comparatively speaking, but not too fancy. It seems like a good fit."

"Yeah?"

"I think it's perfect."

"Kem doesn't think so." The words pop out of my mouth before I realize what I'm saying. I glance over at Abby quickly, sheepishly, expecting her to look hurt or upset.

Instead, very matter-of-factly she asks, "She doesn't like it?"

"She hates it."

"She hates it?" Abby sounds a little skeptical.

"Well maybe 'hate' is too strong a word ... but she certainly doesn't think it's perfect. Or even comfortable. I think maybe she preferred Gamma's place."

"She preferred the mansion to a nice, comfortable home?"

"Well, she seemed disappointed when I showed her this place."

"She's probably just not used to it," Abby says, waving her hand in that dismissive gesture again. "I'm sure it's nothing like Africa."

"No. Not at all."

"That must be hard for her."

"Yeah, I don't think she really likes it here."

"This house? Or Chicago?"

"America."

"Oh." Abby falls silent for a moment and then looks over at me with curiosity. "Is that why she went back again so soon this time?"

"Not exactly. She was supposed to stay and have the baby here, you know." She nods. "But then there was ... an emergency."

"Her family?"

"Her work."

"She runs an AIDS trial, right?"

"Yeah."

"Important work."

"Hmm ... I understand why she had to go, but ..."

"So why didn't you go with her?"

I shrug. It's a good question. One I've been contemplating myself. I'm not sure I know the answer. Or maybe I do, but I'm not sure I'm ready to admit it yet. So I give the easy answer. "It came up so suddenly, I guess. I didn't have time to get everything sorted out."

Abby nods, as if in understanding. "So I guess she won't be back before the baby is born."

"No. She really shouldn't have been traveling that far when she went back to Africa. Hell, it was pushing it for her to be traveling that far when she came back here. Of course, that wasn't exactly the plan, either, but ..." I trail off, not wanting to say anymore.

"So when's she due?"

"Any day now."

The surprise registers on Abby's face. "Oh yeah. That's right. So ... when do you leave?"

Another shrug. "I don't know."

"You don't have plans to go?"

"Well ... I had plans to go."

She looks at me suddenly, a flash of understanding obvious in her face. "Last week?"

"Yeah," I admit reluctantly. "But then ..."

"But then ... yeah. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was my choice. I wanted to be here."

"But John ... she's about to have your baby."

"My baby is here," I say, quietly. I gently lay my hand on top of her own, both hands resting on her belly.

"He's your baby, too. You should be there." I shake my head slightly. She pulls back away from me, shaking my hand off. She gives me a very stern look, and her voice is firm when she speaks. "John. You can't ignore him. You can't neglect him like that. He's your son."

"No, he's not."

"What?" She sounds utterly confused as she moves further away from me, studying me.

I sigh and sit back, knowing it's time to come clean with her. "He's not my son, Abby."

"What ... what do you mean?"

"It's not my baby."

"But ..." She's flustered, and understandably so. She doesn't seem to know what to do with this information. Or maybe it hasn't really sunk in yet.

"Not ... biologically. I'm not the biological father."

"You're not?"

"No."

"Oh." She pauses a moment, and then asks hesitantly, "How ... I mean ... well ... when did you find out?"

"I've always known."

"Really." She looks down at her hands, and after a moment back up at me with the inevitable question. "But then ... why?"

Something else I often ask myself. I wish I had an answer. I shrug and give Abby a half-hearted smile. "I don't know. I guess ... she needed me."

"Wow," Abby says in a tone I have a hard time identifying. Wistful maybe. A little awestruck, but maybe also ... hurt? I look over at her in time to see her look quickly away, trying to hide the tear rolling down her cheek. She wipes the tear away, clearing her throat. She turns to me and pastes on a smile. "You must really love her."

Another shrug. It's all I can do. I open up my mouth and try to say something. "I ..."

"Well ... I mean to accept someone else's baby as your own ... she must mean an awful lot to you."

"No. I mean ... it's not like that. It's just ... "I trail off with a sigh, not knowing how to explain or where to start. Abby's watching me. Waiting for an explanation. So I'll try. I take a deep breath and plunge in. "When I decided to stay in Africa ... I was looking for something ... something to fill up this hole inside of me. At first I thought just being there would do it. Working, helping people, really making a difference. But it ... it wasn't what I really wanted. I didn't think I could ever have what I really wanted." Our eyes meet and I hold her gaze for a moment before she looks away, and I go on. "And then Kem came along and ... I liked ... feeling needed. I liked that she didn't mind needing me. I liked that it seemed so ... easy. And then there was the baby. I didn't care that it wasn't mine. It would be mine in the ways that are really important. I didn't think it would matter. And it probably wouldn't have ... I mean, you fall in love with them no matter where they came from. I know that's true. But what I didn't know ... what I couldn't imagine is what a difference it can make when ..." I pause for a moment, not sure how to say what I'm feeling. I reach out and put my hand over her stomach once again. "The moment I saw this baby on that sonogram ... I don't know. There was just this instant ... connection. Like nothing I've ever felt before. I had no idea. And I couldn't have imagined that it would make such a difference."

"You mean, because it was yours?"

I nod. I reach forward and pick up the sonogram picture, staring at the image that I already have memorized. "Or because it's ... ours. The moment I realized that your baby was probably our baby ... it was instantaneous. This attachment. This ... love. How can you feel such love for someone who doesn't even have a name?"

"Or a sex. Well, it has a sex. We just don't know it. But I know what you mean. I ask myself the same thing everyday. But I think you love them just because they're yours. You know?"

"Yeah. Exactly. It seems a little narcissistic, but I just keep looking at this picture and thinking 'I made that.' "

"You didn't do it alone," she reminds me, with an elbow poke to my side.

"I just didn't know that the biology would matter so much." I fall silent for a moment, not sure if I should share what I'm thinking. But then I look at her, and like always, I can't help but open up. "I kept waiting ... waiting to feel some kind of attachment to ... the baby. Kem's baby. And I kept telling myself that it would happen. That I should just give it time. But then ... with this one ... this baby seemed so ... real. Right away. And I love it already. Maybe it's just because its ... ours." I gently brush an errant strand of hair behind her ear, let the backs of my fingertips graze her cheek. "Maybe when you feel this strongly about the baby's mother, you can't help but love the child you've made together."

"Carter ..."

"Abby. Look, that night? It happened for a reason."

"Yeah. You were upset. And I was stupid. There, that's two reasons."

"You weren't stupid. You were there for me when I needed you."

"Well, I shouldn't have been there for you like that. It wasn't right."

"But maybe it was meant to happen. Even if you don't think it was right."

"If I don't think it was right? And what? You do?"

"Well ... I just don't think it was entirely wrong."

She laughs mirthlessly at that. "How can it be 'not entirely wrong' when you were cheating on your girlfriend? With me as your willing accomplice?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, that was wrong. The circumstances maybe. But not the act. And look what a beautiful thing is gonna come from it."

"That's still doesn't make it right."

"But that doesn't mean that it wasn't supposed to happen."

"So now it's fate's fault. It was destiny?"

"Yeah, maybe," I say with a smile. "But listen, Abby, for whatever reason it happened, it did happen. Right or wrong. And now there's a baby. Our baby. My baby. And I choose not to think of it as a mistake, but rather as something that was meant to be."

"And what about Kem? And ... her baby? No matter what the situation is, she's still counting on you. And that baby still needs you."

"My baby needs me, too. And now that I know what real feels like ... I don't think I can go back to pretending. I wanted it to be real ... so badly. I was willing to do anything to have what I thought I wanted. But now it turns out that it's not what I wanted at all."

"John ..." she close to tears, and her voice has a pleading quality to it.

"I'm not in love with her, Abby. How could I be ... when I'm still in love with you?"