Note: An entire scene in this story had to be cut before posting here. It was cut because it uses an unacceptable format (internet chat transcript style). So this chapter will only appear in full on my homepage accessed through my author profile. The gist of the missing scene is alluded to in two paragraphs in this version. (You won't miss any new major plot details, just the comedy, some intimate information on their men,and the sense of growing friendship between the three women chatting...Sara, Carrie and Tawny.) Sorry, I couldn't re-write the whole thing!

Maggs

Feasibility Study
Written by: Ms Maggs / Edited by: KJT

Chapter 73: Losing It – Part 2

August 21, 2005 (Day 121)
The Training Zone
2:31 p.m.

When Greg breezed into The Training Zone, a private personal training gym in an upscale part of town, he saw the place was devoid of people except for Grissom lying on a mat in the back of the room with Irving poised over him. "I hope you didn't kill him!" Greg warned in the sternest tone he could muster. "Or you'll answer to me!" Then for proper tough-guy effect he tossed his CD case on the reception desk and tightly folded his arms across the front of his lavender t-shirt.

From his splayed position on the floor, Grissom, wearing gray sweatpants and a navy blue Forensics t-shirt, groaned, "Just when I thought this experience couldn't get any worse. Why is he here? Greg, I just saw you an hour ago. Stop following me."

"Sorry, Gris. Irving told me to come by this afternoon." He shrugged. "I didn't mention it at lunch because I didn't want my dad to know I was doing anything remotely athletic."

"It's my fault." Shaking his head at the clown Irving explained, "I ran into your little pal at The Riveria last night. Turns out he hasn't been paying attention in Anger Management class. I bailed him out before he got into a fight with one of his co-workers."

Snapping to a sitting position Grissom yelled, "What! WHO!"

Backing up toward the door Greg said, "You were right…I shouldn't intrude on your session. I'll…"

"FREEZE!" Irving shouted and immediately got his request granted. "Get over here and answer the man's question. I think he deserves an answer after bailing your sorry ass out the first time you got into a fight. And I already told you my feelings on the matter."

When Greg reached the middle of the small gym he hung his head and mumbled, "Hodges and his cronies…again."

"What is with the two of you!" Grissom stared at Greg, waiting for an answer that didn't come.

Irving answered for Greg, "One of them called Tawny a bitch."

"And a HO!" Greg wanted to make sure Grissom understood the gravity of the situation. "I swear I wasn't gonna fight him. We were in the casino! You know…eyes in the sky."

"No, you weren't gonna fight him," Irving groaned. "You were going to hit the floor the first time that big guy…"

"Craig."

"…nailed you in the jaw." Irving glanced down at Grissom. "In all fairness…I've known Tawny since she was 18. She's a great girl, but she's got that dangerous combination going on…she's a looker and a bit of a hothead. Greg was trying to diffuse the situation…albeit poorly. Tawny jumped up and told the guy to get lost and then she kicked him in the shin when he was dogging on Greg. Then Craig called her a bitch."

"And a HO!" Greg got pissed every time he thought about it, but after taking a cleansing breath he clarified, "For the record…Hodges was trying to walk away. Craig was wasted and was looking for a fight. So there won't be a problem at work between us. Okay? We're on different shifts now and we've been keeping a healthy distance. When we have to interact it's professional. I promise there won't be a problem."

"Fine." Rubbing his open palms over his face Grissom moaned," But do you have any idea how bad it would have looked for the lab if you got into a fight after leaving my home intoxicated? I'm really disappointed in you, Greg."

"Sorry." Staring at the man he respected greatly he remarked in a deflated tone, "I had a rough time after I left your house last night. I wasn't feeling very well on the way home so Brass offered me the use of his restroom." Narrowing his eyes he dropped the hint, "I was surprised to find out something when I was there…the answer to a little mystery. I guess it left me a little edgy."

Irving watched the two guys stare each other down for a moment and then commented, "Time is money people. Are we working out or having a staring contest?"

Grissom nodded. "Working out…together."

"Thanks." Greg's smile returned.

Irving feigned a sniffle. "I have no idea what just happened, but I'm verklempt." Then he dropped the act. "Up off your ass, Gil. I want another ten minutes on the recumbent bike before we hit your upper body. Greg…give me ten on the treadmill to get the blood flowin' before we work, because I don't want any of those tiny muscles of yours to get pulled. Set it at 4.0 to start."

Holding up his hand like he was trying to get the attention of a classroom teacher Greg said, "Do you mind if I pop in my own tunes? Because Incubus doesn't work for me like it does for my jock pal Nick and those of his iron-pumping ilk. I think you should consider matching the music to your clientele."

Grissom felt compelled to chime in. "He has an obsession about matching up things. He once shared with me his very intricate method for selecting condoms based on the personality attributes of the girl." He gave a quick eye roll. "Obviously he forgot to make a selection for Tawny."

Raising his brow Greg countered, "I beg to differ, Master. Selecting no condom was still making a selection. Considering Tawny's life and my life now, compared to two months ago…I'm thinking my selection was the perfect choice for her and myself as well."

"Time will tell I suppose." On his feet, Grissom smiled, "Irving, when it comes to selecting music to fit a mood, I will have to bow to Greg."

Already back to his old chipper self, Greg teased his mentor while walking over to the reception desk to retrieve his CD case. "I take it Butterflyz worked out for you? You don't have to answer…I can see it written all over your face, Bluff Meister."

"For your information…" Irving crossed the room and popped open the stereo cabinet. "I have a full selection of musical options from which my clients can choose. Gil didn't ask for anything specific. My default selection is Incubus for its muscle head connotation." He pointed to the four racks of CDs. "Never assume."

Waving his own CD case full of tunes Greg inquired, "Do you have Chemical Brothers – Dig Your Own Hole? By the way, I'm a Chemist by trade."

"And a lunatic by nature." Irving grinned. "Let me guess your favorite…The Private Psychedelic Reel?"

"Absolutely." Greg watched him pull the CD from the rack. "Got some Crystal Method?"

That caught Grissom's ear as he pedaled. "Excuse me?"

"You chill now, Double D." Greg laughed at the name he hadn't called him in a while. "The Crystal Method…they're a group."

"I've only got Tweekend."

"Play PHD for Gris, he's got two of them, but do me a favor and program out Ten Miles Back, because my child was conceived to that song so it's special and I don't want to relive the moment with the two of you. Yeah…that's a factoid I did not mean to blurt."

Grissom choked on his laughter. "How ironic since ten miles back is where you left your box of condoms at Walgreens."

Irving was busting a gut too, but for a different reason. "Gil, I take it you've never heard the song?"

"No."

Greg knew what was coming and rolled with the punches.

Irving composed himself long enough to explain. "It only has a handful of lyrics throughout the seven minutes of techno grind. It starts off with, here it comes repeated a few times, then for five minutes it repeats, you're unaware – ya keep moving until it ends with there you go – such a nervous mistake of mine."

After laughing at that slice of irony, Grissom couldn't help but smile at the thought that his own child was potentially conceived during the flu-sex desperation playing of Habenera. If it wasn't then, the alternative was the Captain of Flight 140 from Tahoe to Vegas announcing they were at 30,000 feet. He chose to stick with the seductive gypsy song scenario.

"Thanks for ruining that song for me, Greg. Too bad Blowout isn't before Ten Miles Back on that CD, you might have been spared." Once he was done programming the music Irving pulled grabbed a clip board. "Now sign this paper, Mr. Responsibility."

"What am I signing?"

"A release to train you," He explained as he loaded the first two CDs. "You're verifying that you passed your last medical exam…luckily I only need to confirm you're physically sound and not mentally fit."

Grissom thought he should assure Irving. "He actually passed the department psychological profile with flying colors and he's firearm certified."

Irving deadpanned, "Thanks for shattering my faith in the County, Gil."

Greg handed over the clipboard. "Here you go, Big Guy." Feeling comfortable that Irving was a man of taste, Greg set his own music stash down on the top of the cabinet and made a beeline for the treadmill. Once there, he tossed off his bulky black sweatpants to reveal a pair of gray gym shorts and twigs for legs. "How about some Fatboy Slim to round things off?"

"Let me guess…Better Livin' through Chemistry, Chemist?"

"Punk to Funk, my Man…play it twice, so this punk gets funked to get pumped."

After seeing Greg's legs Irving chuckled. "Pumped is what you'll be after a few months with me, Twiggy. Gil, you don't mind transferring twenty of your pounds to the Walking Stick, do you?"

"Thanks for the bug reference, Irving," Grissom panted from the bike. "He can have all twenty."

"Great. See…the two of you are scientists, but I'm a magician." Irving leaned on the front bar of the treadmill and upped the speed to 5.0. "Those twenty pounds are going to be magically transformed from fat to muscle by the time they disappear off you, Gil, and land on you, Greggy. Tawny will owe me for that, she can add it to the list she started back in 2000."

Greg picked up the pace and plastered on a grin. "Think you can complete your trick in two weeks so when I take Tawny to California, and have to lie by the country club pool with her, I'm ripped?"

"I said I was a magician, not God."

Gil laughed while knowing it was a bad idea.

"You think that's funny, Fluffy?" Irving shook his head. "Now boys…" He leaned against the wall so he could watch his victims sweat. "As of this moment…bad carbs are the enemy. No refined sugar…no white flour…no processed garbage of any kind, got it? You see a donut at the police station you should react like you just saw Satan personified."

Greg informed the maniacal man, "Fear not, I shunned donuts weeks ago." He heard Grissom's muffled laughed and joined in.

"Now, Greg…" Irving walked over and feeling confident that Greg could handle it, he notched the treadmill to 6.5. "…if you do my 6-pack or death Abs workout daily until California and eat a 30, 50, 20 balance of complex carbs, protein and fat, you might not be too embarrassed to take off your shirt by the pool, and if you're wearing that shirt I think it would be an improvement no matter what." Glancing at the pale lavender tee, he commented, "I think I'll be including some buff-guy fashion advice in your 2-week California training program as well."

"As long as I can wear my polka-dot boxers underneath and be true to myself." When the two men stared at him he snapped, "Tawny likes them."

Irving returned to his diatribe. "An hour of cardio every day because this isn't only about muscles. The two of you are on the street sometimes in dangerous situations. You need some stamina."

"If sex counts…" A wild grin formed on Greg's face even though he was breathing hard. "…put me down for two hours a day. You'll probably have to come up with something different for Grissom though…you know…because he's older."

Irving notched the tread to 7.5. "You're going to be so sore and exhausted Tawny could shake it and beg you to ravage her but the only thing you'll be able to do is whimper maybe some other time."

Greg breathlessly commented, "I don't see why the lady has to be punished."

Grissom voiced his concern as well. "If you intend to put me in the same state then I must say…the boy has a point."

Laughing at the panicked men, Irving waltzed over to his desk and grabbed a couple of pamphlets. "Take these home to the women. After they read them they won't mind waiting. There's a bunch of before and after shots and statistics. Things like…how every extra ten pounds of belly fat on a man results in a half inch less …"

"Got it!" Grissom nodded and pedaled faster.

His brain always analyzing, Greg posited, "So if I'm twenty pounds UNDERweight does that mean it feels like she's getting an extra inch?" He immediately clarified. "Not that there isn't enough naturally, I'm just curious…because I'm a scientist…and scientist are always curious."

Irving appreciated the humor. "Doesn't work that way." He laughed. "If it did, every guy would be walking around emaciated." Then he noticed Greg looked flummoxed. "You alright?" He started decreasing the tread speed.

"I'm uh…just tasting the oyster shooter and beers I sucked down before coming here."

Grissom immediately prepared for the worst. "You should know his current nickname at work is Weak Guts. I'd hand him a trash can if I were you, Irving."

"No squishy food or booze before working out you idiot." Irving brought the treadmill to a slow halt and helped Greg off the equipment. "I don't want to see those oysters so you better hold 'em back." Grabbing an Altoid he barked, "Deep breath…swallow hard…suck on this mint, and think about something else."

"Maybe Irving can accompany you in the field, Greg."

Swallowing hard he nodded. "I'll carry his burly picture in my kit and take it out when I feel like I'm about to lose it."

Catherine's House
3:04 p.m.

After returning from Church around one-thirty, Warrick, Catherine and Lindsay got right down to the business of packing. They would be moving into their new house in a week, and everyone was excited to box up their belongings and start the new adventure as a family. Unfortunately, just before three o'clock, Warrick was paged to go into work for what he figured would be a couple of hours. So now mother and daughter were left to do the work.

Standing on a small ladder, Catherine struggled to reach the top shelf in her walk-in closet. "Isn't it great having someone tall in the house, Lindsay? You never really know what a blessing it is until they're not here to reach something for you."

From her position sitting on the floor packing her mother's shoes Lindsay scoffed, "Yeah…I figured that's the reason you kept him around…height."

She appreciated her daughter's sense of humor…mostly because it was so much like hers. "Wow." Catherine remarked in surprise when she grabbed a small box from the further corner of her closet's top shelf. "I forgot about this."

"What is it?" The curious teen watched her mom step down the ladder with a dust-covered box.

"Stuff your dad gave me." Taking a seat on the floor next to her daughter, Catherine leaned against the wall and let out a sigh big enough to blow some dust off the top of the box.

"Is it stuff I can see?" Lindsay cautiously asked, knowing some of her mom's life was pretty risqué.

"Sure. Not all of my life was a scandal, my dear." She popped open the lid and immediately broke into a bittersweet smile. "Oh boy." The pictures were a strong reminder of the good times before the bad times. "Look how young we were…and stupid."

"You're pregnant in that photo, mom." Lindsay's voice reflected her anxiety. "Are you saying you were stupid for bringing me into the world?"

"No!" Taking her daughter's hand she gave it a squeeze. "That's not what I meant at all. I meant we stupidly thought marriage would be a walk in the park. We didn't know how to work on it. I know what you're thinking...you weren't an accident! No…we planned you. " She smiled at her sometimes troublesome girl. "I didn't plan on you being so headstrong though."

"Like mother, like daughter." Lindsay slid closer and sat against the wall next to her mother. "I have my dad's eyes."

"Absolutely." Catherine stared at the photo and savored the happy memory. "Your father's eyes were what got me to marry him. The way he used to look at me back then…I would melt on the spot. I know it's hard to believe your dad and me were happy once, but I want you to know that we were." Turning to her daughter, Catherine reached out and tucked a strand of Lindsay's hair behind an ear. "And we were crazy in love when we made you. You were the only good thing we ever did together, Linds."

Struggling not to cry she asked, "What else is in the box?"

Catherine pulled out a cassette. "Your dad used to make me tapes of his music. This one…" She handed the tape labeled only with an inked red heart, over to her daughter. "…it's a song he only sang to me…no one else." She shook her head. "Your father lied to me plenty about big stuff…like fidelity and money, but he never lied about only singing this song for me. Go figure."

"Will you let me hear it?"

"Sure, Honey."

"I'll be right back." She rushed off to get her portable stereo player.

While Lindsay was gone, Catherine continued rummaging through the carton of bittersweet memories…a box of faded dreams…a fairy tale gone wrong, the exception being the girl who was walking into the room with a boom box and a smile.

"Okay." Lindsay extended her hand palm up to accept the tape. Then, after putting the tape in the player, she returned to her place on the floor next to her mom and set the stereo on the floor in between them.

At first only the delicate strum of an acoustic guitar was all that they heard, but about forty seconds in, the ghost that haunted them both from time to time said, "This one's for you, Cat…it will always be only for you."

Catherine closed her eyes and slipped a little further down the wall and into the memory. As much as she hated her Ex over the years, there was no denying that when he recorded this tape nothing but love powered his voice.

Between hearing her deceased father's voice for the first time in three years and seeing the silent tears streaming down her mother's cheeks, Lindsay quickly became overwhelmed and a bit shocked at how fragile she still was when confronted with the loss of her dad. Instinctually she rested her head on her mother's shoulders and snuggled close. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Sweetie." She held her tight, knowing the moment was precious because headstrong daughters and controlling mothers don't often take comfort in each other's arms. "I wasn't lying, Linds…you can hear it in his voice, can't you? If only…"

"Yeah." It only made her cry harder and mourn, not the loss of her dad, but for the first time the loss of her mother's dream. It was a loss she never comprehended before, partly because it was easier to blame her mom and mostly because love between a man and woman was a complex emotion that she was only now beginning to understand. When the song ended she nervously asked, "But you're happy now too, right, Mom?"

After wiping away her tears she kissed the top of her daughter's head. "So happy, Sweetie."

Relieved, she took a deep breath. "Okay…good…me too."

The Grissoms'
4:28 p.m.

When Sara heard the automatic garage door activate she grabbed her fluffy pink robe to cover her freshly showered body and rushed from the bedroom to meet her husband…just in case she needed to help his sore ass out of the car.

Upon stepping through the interior door leading into the garage her suspicions were confirmed when she saw him slouched in the driver's seat of his Mercedes. "That bad, huh?" The car door was open and yet he wasn't moving.

"Help me," He joked as he tried to lift his shaky legs enough to fling them out the open car door. "And I thought going to therapy was bad. Baring my soul, while uncomfortable in its own right, is a cake walk compared to this. Oh…I said cake. Irving would probably yell at me for just talking about it."

Sara grabbed her exhausted husband's hand. "Jacuzzi or massage?"

He groaned his answer as he stood. "Massage. If I had the energy to grin I would."

"Good thing I harvested your seed when I did." She released a flurry of laughter. "Because I think getting you to give it up now would be more difficult than flu sex."

"That reminds me." He dropped his arm around her shoulder. "I have a pamphlet for you, from Irving."

"I'll read it when you pass out in five minutes."

Together they entered the house and slowly headed down the hall toward the bedroom. Once there, Sara escorted her husband to the bed and let him collapse against it.

"I love this bed," He rejoiced in a sigh.

While tugging off his shoes and socks Sara asked, "Do you have enough energy left to tell me about your visit with your dad? How was the house?"

"It wasn't a house." Flipping onto his back he informed her, "It's 9000 square feet of excess! It even has an armored rifle range and a panic room. It's a mob mansion."

She laughed. "Nice symmetry since we live in a former mobster's house."

"I could only stay a half hour. It was too overwhelming." Dropping a hand on his forehead he sighed. "Not the house, but what it represented and things my father was saying. He told me he's not selling his mansion in Boca and then said he'd will it to our child. I can barely handle having him in my life and now I have to worry how he's going to corrupt my child. And speaking of corrupting children…get this!" Getting irritated, he found the energy to sit up. "He hired Tawny as his assistant. Well, Lina's actually."

"Hold up." Sara tried to figure out what she missed. "How does Tawny know your dad? Please tell me he wasn't a former customer of hers. And who is Lina?"

"Can you believe how crazy things can get in a few hours!" He crashed on the bed again. "Tawny and Greg were eating at the hotel with Greg's dad who is in town for a conference. Tawny had a nasty bout of morning sickness and was trying to hide it from Greg's dad because they're not ready to confess the baby news."

"Avoidance…never a good thing, as we both know."

Grissom cringed.

"So how did your dad factor in?"

"I found Tawny hurling in the lobby. My dad took her up to his suite while I went into the restaurant to lie on her behalf!" Shaking his now throbbing head he said, "She spends a half hour with him and she's hired by Lina, my dad's Household Manager. You'll love this…Lina is this gorgeous fifty-eight year old smart-ass who puts my dad in his place at every turn. They're crazy about each other but won't admit their feelings. My dad says he doesn't know what to do about it."

Taking a seat on the bed, Sara showed her amusement. "Like son, like father."

Unhappy to hear the truth he whimpered, "Can I have my massage now?"

"Turn over, Baby."

"That's usually my line," He quipped while yanking off his sweaty t-shirt and then rolling on his stomach. "I hope you don't mind…I stink."

"Hey…if you could have fertility sex with me when I was raging with the flu this is the least I can do."

Opening the drawer of her nightstand she grabbed a bottle of relaxing Eucalyptus Spearmint aromatherapy lotion. "I picked this out especially for the occasion."

"Thank you for thinking of my imminent suffering when shopping."

Smiling, she filled her palm with the fragrant white cream and then rubbed her hands together to warm it. "Tell me where it hurts, Baby." She straddled his thighs, placed her slicked hands on his shoulders and started kneading.

"Even my brain hurts because I had to listen to Greg half the time I was at the gym."

"Why was he there?" She chuckled lightly. "Did he follow you from the hotel? If he didn't have Tawny I'd be worried that Chuckles is crushing on you, Honey. After all…the men at Walgreens thought so."

Wincing from the pain of Sara's massage he explained, "No, Irving is training him too because last night after Greg and Tawny left here, they went to the Riviera and Greg almost got into another fight with Hodges and friends."

"What is with those two?" Sara wrinkled her brow, trying to recall a time when they weren't at each other throats.

"Hodges's friend called Tawny a bitch and a Ho after she kicked him in the shin and told him to leave Greg alone."

"She's a bit of a hothead."

"Irving said she's been that way since she was 18."

"What the hell?" She stopped her magic fingers. "I'm quitting my job and following you around because you're away from me for nine hours and you find out all this information and I feel so behind. Irving knows Tawny?" Now that she had ranted, Sara returned to working out her husband's knots. "Does Irving know your dad? Wait…I'm sure he'll end up training your dad too."

Gil managed to find the energy to laugh. "Irving was a bouncer where she danced when she first came to Vegas. Found out some interesting tidbits on her actually." His tone grew a little somber. "Made me glad to know she's happy now with Greg. Oh this is a good one…Greg now thinks it was a lucky break that he didn't have a condom with him on his first date with Tawny."

"Serendipity?" The left side of Sara's mouth curved. "He thinks getting her pregnant was meant to be?"

"Apparently." He closed his eyes while his wife continued to work her magic. "Predestined by the cosmos."

"Well, how can we argue with that considering we only got together because of the Mike Rodgers fiasco? I was just telling Jas about that today. How I wouldn't change a thing because we wouldn't be the same now if I hadn't met him and gone out with him."

Gil shuddered at the thought. "You'd feel differently if he had raped you that night. I know I would have."

Not willing to let him ruin her positive vibe she countered, "Mike raping me wasn't part of fate's plan. Anyway, it's behind us."

"I'm sorry." Turning over, Gil displaced her and when he did he pulled her into his arms. "I really regret saying that out loud." In a distant whispered he admitted, "I don't even like thinking it. It still fuels my nightmares from time to time. The what ifs and the…"

"Hey there…" Brushing a kiss over his lips she whispered, "You rescuing me was exactly what fate had in mind for us…among other things." Gently she took his hand and placed it over her womb. "All signs are still positive." Again she kissed him, this time soft and slow until he returned it.

"I love you, Sara." Snuggling with her he let his eyelids close.

"I love you too."

Greg and Tawny's Apartment
4:36 p.m.

When she heard Greg turn off the shower, Tawny skipped into the bathroom. "Need help toweling off, Stud?" She teased.

Pushing the blue and white striped shower curtain aside he informed her, "I've got everything above the waist covered." Smirking, he tossed her a towel. "You can handle everything below."

Giggling, she caught the towel and then proceeded to twirl it up and snap it at his thigh. When he walked through the door a little while ago he looked like hell…now he still looked like hell, just a squeaky clean version of it.

"I feel like I'm back in middle school. Yeah…I'm spent from gym class and getting tortured in the locker room." Grinning he admitted, "But if my enemy had been a hot babe like you, I wouldn't have minded the towel snaps."

So she gave him one that was slightly more precipitous.

"Thank you, ma'am, may I have another!" He joked.

"You're enjoying this a little too much." She gave him one more snap and then laughed riotously. "I'm saying that based on the look on your face, because no other part of you is giving off a pleasure vibe."

Stepping out while wrapping a towel around his waist he confirmed her suspicions. "Yeah…if you thought you were gettin' lucky, forget it. EVERY muscle on my body is down for the count." He pecked her cheek as he cruised out of the bathroom on his way to the bedroom. "Sorry, Sweetie, I haven't slept in thirty-six hours, my father mentally exhausted me, Irving physically tore me apart, and now all I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep until my alarm goes off at five tomorrow morning."

"Don't worry, I'm with ya. I was just teasing. I already have bottles of water for us on the nightstand and fresh sheets on the bed." She strolled into the room behind him and once there they both got dressed for bed in silence…Greg opting for green striped Abercrombie boxers and Tawny selected a pair of hot pink boy shorts with a tight white tee to go on top. "Music or TV?"

"Whatever you want because I have sixty more seconds awake tops," He replied as he yanked down the black and pink comforter Tawny had brought with her when she moved in that clashed horribly with his IKEA bed. "Hey, do you want to go shopping for new stuff for the townhouse tomorrow night? I'm looking forward to tossing our individual stuff and buying stuff that's ours Don't you like the sound of that…our stuff?"

"I do!" With the remote in hand and a smile on her face she slipped into bed and snuggled close, placing her head on his chest and facing the TV. "But I can't tomorrow night because I have plans to meet some friends at seven."

"Friends?" He placed his hand on her shoulder and began an insecurity-infused ramble. "Friends? You say that so cryptically. Not to sound possessive or anything...it's just…you haven't mentioned hanging out with friends since moving in with me, and…and now you answered friends without giving any names. So now I'm…wow…I do sound possessive. Or do I sound jealous? I bet Lady Heather would say I sound controlling, which I'm not...I just like to know where you're going, and who you're going out with…which really does sound controlling. But I just want to know in case there could be trouble. Not trouble in that I don't trust you. Because I do! Emphatically! I mean trouble like guys hitting on you. Because let's face it, you're gorgeous and what guy wouldn't want you? So it's only logical for me to worry if you're going out. Especially if you're going clubbing…well you wouldn't be doing that because you're pregnant…I mean, I guess you could as long as you don't have alcohol, but even if you're just drinking water you need to be careful that nobody slips anything into your water, because that happens all the time, and it would…see that's why you really shouldn't go clubbing, even with friends…not that I'm telling you what to do, because it's not my place, and you can do anything you want...well, except cheat on me of course, not that I think you would! What I'm trying to say is…"

"I'm meeting Sara and Carrie at the gym for a class." Grinning, she turned on the TV.

"Oh!" His smile returned. "That's really great. Great!"

Even though she couldn't see his face she knew he was smiling. "Next time just say, 'who are you going out with, Tawny?' instead of the other two hundred words."

"Good plan." Now mentally drained even more than before, he released a massive yawn. "So what are we watching?"

Tawny flipped around the channels until she settled on Discovery Health. "Birth Day is on!"

Greg's eyes already closed, he feigned enthusiasm. "Yay."

"I was watching one yesterday that scared the crap out of me. The baby's heart rate was falling and they had to rush the woman in for an emergency c-section. The baby almost died, but everything worked out in the end. I was bawling my eyes out of course." She intently watched the screen. "Look at that huge belly on that little woman. Do you think I'll get that big?" When an answer didn't come she glanced up and confirmed he was asleep. "Night, Chuckles."

Sara's Home Office
4:52 p.m.

Unable to sleep and not desiring to wake Gil, Sara decided to leave the bedroom to do a little online shopping. After logging on to her computer she signed onto AOL and checked her inbox. A friendly smile darted across her face when she saw she had one from CBlake.

Hi Sara,

I wanted to say, thanks again for the GREAT party. Sorry again for the pool house incident...although if you check, even with your highly sensitive equipment, you won't find any evidence of couch tainting! I have friends who know how to clean a scene ;-)

I'm awake and mulling over some briefs so if you're around and bored send me an IM. I'll be logged on as SlickNicksChick (HA! I'm such a naughty girl!).

Talk to you soon,

Carrie

After adding SlickNicksChick to her buddy list, Sara, using the name BabeOfBugMan,sent an IM to Carrie and they began a wonderful conversation that led to some outrageously personal and funny moments about their men.

And just when they thought it couldn't get more fun, Tawny, logged in as Hot4Chuckles,appeared on Sara's buddy list. Carrie and Sara immediately invited her to join in therevealing conversation. That's when things turned even more bizarre and intimate!

Nick and Carrie's Apartment
5:21 p.m.

When Carrie returned to the bedroom she found Nick in the same position he was in when she had left the room…and still snoring. Smiling she climbed onto the bed and grabbed his right hand, pulling him onto his side. She then slipped into his arms and released a comfort-laced sigh.

At that moment, Carrie was grateful for three things…that she didn't wake her exhausted fiancé from peaceful slumber…that his snoring mercifully ended…and that even though he was sound asleep, he had instinctively wrapped his arms around her tight, giving her the feeling of safety she cherished.

There, lying in her future husband's strong embrace, Carrie knew no matter how many books she ordered and things they tried, this position would always be her favorite.

Greg's Apartment
5:25 p.m.

After making yet another pregnancy-induced pit stop in the bathroom, Tawny breezed into the bedroom. Once there, she covered her mouth to avoid releasing the giggle building inside her. Just as she had told the girls he often did, Chuckles was releasing random thoughts out loud while he slept.

"Don't take your eyes off your water…yeah…there could be something in it….oysters…make you sick."

Approaching the bed she whispered, "Don't you worry, I'm not going clubbing, Chuckles, so no one is going to taint my water with oysters."

Lifting the comforter she slid into bed, snuggling up to her chatty clown and bringing her mouth within an inch of his ear. Then she tried something that had worked a few times over the weeks. "I love you, Baby." With a gleam in her eye she waited to see if her statement would produce any results.

"Oysters aren't good for the baby…I love my baby…with oysters on the side."

Smiling, she snuggled up close and relished the feeling of being loved…with oysters on the side.

The Grissoms'
5:28 p.m.

Having confirmed for probably the twentieth time in the last twelve hours that her cramps weren't producing anything but hope, Sara left the bathroom and breezed over to the bed. Much to her relief, her husband wasn't engaged in stress-induced teeth gnashing, but in serene slumber.

Burrowing under the comforter and sateen top sheet, Sara lay facing her husband, who was also lying on his side. Secure in their bed and in their home, it was hard for her to believe that only a year ago they were living apart and alone. This moment felt so right and natural, she wondered how they could have taken so long to think otherwise.

As she pondered her life, another twinge shot through her uterus. The wince of pain brought a smile to Sara's face as she celebrated that she and Gil hadn't taken too long to make the next important decision about their life together.

Caught up in the excitement, she imagined the same scene she was living but with a tiny baby sweetly cooing in between her and her husband. It was a boy. His name was Owen and he had his father's eyes. "I love you," She whispered to both her husband and the illusion, as her eyes gently closed.

Unlike in the past when she was living alone and often haunted when trying to fall asleep, Sara dozed quickly, comforted by that feeling she had searched for her whole life…security.

Next Chapter: Losing It - Part3...someone is going to lose it.

Posting: Sunday, May 1st

Thanks for reading. If you have comments to share or questions feel free to review, or email me from the author page or my homepage link.

Maggs