A/N: This chapter was hard, too. And I know I said it was going to be the last, but I changed my mind…it was more than long enough to divide into two, maybe three, parts. So here you go!

Disclaimer: Uh-huh. And the fact that I wrote the word disclaimer doesn't tell you anything?

Dedication: Dedicated to the way-cool Astralis, as promised, for nailing the quote last time. Yay!

-Hands Astralis the promised e-cookies-

There's another quote hidden in here. Who can find it? A big fluffy virtual teddy bear (In honor of Valentine's Day) and a special chapter dedication go to the first one to get it!

Her Secret: Chapter 4

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"Well, the thing is, I have this really great apartment…two bedroom, spacious, clean--well, relatively, anyway." I realize that I'm rambling, but she cuts me off.

"Don, what are you saying?"

I take a deep breath and start over. "We could clean out my office and use it as a nursery, if you want."

She falls quiet for a moment, then sighs. "But we live all the way across town from each other. Wouldn't that be kind of a pain, for me to run….oh." She breaks off as I give her a pointed look. "You're asking me to move in with you, aren't you?"

"That was kind of what I was getting at."

She grins. "I'd like that." She says after a moment's thought. "Can we paint the office? Somehow, I don't think broken 70's paneling is what I had in mind for a nursery."

"Definitely. First, though, I think we should worry about getting this stuff out of here." Relieved beyond words to have that problem solved, I motion to the piles of baby supplies everywhere. "Why don't I take the crib and stuff and you handle the clothes and diapers?"

Three hours later, we're standing side by side in the doorway of the soon-to-be-nursery and gazing at the mess. "I haven't really used it in years, you know." I say by way of explanation. "It's just kind of been storage for forever."

She giggles. "Yes, so you've told me. It's fine, it'll give me something to do now."

"Well, let me help you get the heavier stuff out of here." I had cleaned the furniture out years ago, when I'd gotten a real desk at work, so all that was left were piles and piles of boxes everywhere.

Within the hour, we've managed to move everything into the living room, where I sit down on the floor and start going through things. Terry moves into the kitchen and begins sifting through cupboards. "What sounds good for dinner?"

"Macaroni and cheese." I say distractedly. "I think that's all that's left in there right now."

"Romantic." I can almost hear the eye-roll in her words, but I can tell she's smiling. "We'll get groceries soon."

I nod distractedly and continue my task as Terry begins dinner preparations.

Halfway through the third box, I stumble across a blast from my past--an envelope marked Albuquerque, New Mexico. When I open it, the now-tarnished silver ring tumbles into my palm, and I gaze at it for a few moments, feeling a plan formulate in my head. Slipping the ring back into the envelope and stuffing the envelope between the pages of a never-used encyclopedia, I smile to myself as Terry begins to sing softly in the kitchen.

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I enter the apartment quietly, in case she's sleeping. However, it quickly becomes apparent that she's doing no such thing. Following the blaring music, I find her atop a stepladder in the nursery, brushing white paint over the wall. She's managed to pull down all of the broken paneling and haul it out, leaving the wall exposed.

She wears an oversized peach-colored tee shirt and a pair of well-worn overalls. A white bandanna covers her hair, making her look hardly older than a girl herself. White paint streaks her arms and freckles her nose. Leaning against the doorframe, I watch her sing along to the radio in the doorway and paint the walls for a few seconds before I turn the music down.

She glances over her shoulder and pouts. "You're home early."

"Yeah. It looks great in here."

"I was hoping to have it all done before you got home, as a surprise. Be careful, that doorway's wet on this side." She motions to the wood, and I see that, barely inches from my left sleeve, the wood's been painted a soft baby pink.

"Pink and white. Nice." I smile at her and disengage myself before my white shirt becomes pink.

She chuckles. "Pink's my favorite color."

"I knew that." I tell her with a smile.

"So why are you home so early? Not that I'm complaining." She returns her attention to the wall and continues her work.

"We all got to go home early today. We got your replacements, so once we were done with introductions and setup, they gave us the rest of the day off."

"Oh." Her voice is quiet. "What are they like?"

"Colby--Colby Granger--is going to get along really well with David, I can tell already. He's a bit headstrong, I think, and maybe a little overconfident, but he seems like a great guy. Megan Reeves I'm not so sure about yet. She seems a little green to me, but I think she'll be a good worker. She's really sharp and extremely quick-witted." I chuckle. "And she doesn't take garbage from anybody. Reminds me of this agent I had on my team once…she was just too much to handle."

"Careful, there, Eppes. I might be almost five months pregnant and stuck at the top of a ladder, but I could still take you down."

"Why don't I doubt that?" I laugh. "But I know you'd like them, Terry."

"Probably." She replies.

"You'll get to find out on Friday. I've invited the team over."

"Really? David and Kylie, too?"

"Of course." I reply. "And Charlie and Amita and Dad. We'll just make a party out of it."

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Friday, my day off, arrives quickly, bringing the promise of summer on the wind. The group isn't due to arrive until six o'clock, so I drag Terry away from the nursery and pack us a lunch.

"A picnic?" She asks incredulously. "I didn't take you for the picnic type, Eppes."

"Well, I guess I can still surprise you." I reply, tucking the blanket under my left arm before picking up the small cooler with that hand and taking hers with the other. "Let's go."

We stroll in companionable silence through the May sunshine, hand in hand. I let her set the pace--she's been complaining a bit more lately about her back. By the time we reach the park, she's smiling ear-to-ear again, her dark eyes dancing. "This was a great idea, Don. It's so pretty."

"I thought this weather was just too good to pass up." I confess, spreading the tablecloth on the grass and smiling as she sinks down onto it. She stretches out on her back and turns her face to the sunshine.

"It is." She replies, folding her hands behind her head and sighing . "What did you pack? I'm starving."

We eat the sandwiches and chips together, laughing and teasing and talking. Old couples smile as they stroll past us, "See that, Vern? We used to look just like that, did'n we?". Finally, we curl up in the sun and she falls asleep, her head pillowed on my stomach. I toy idly with her hair as I study the sunshine patterns the leaves are leaving on the grass around us. Suddenly, a couple holding hands loosely in that comfortable friends-and-lovers sort of way--one with a very familiar gait--moves down the path next to us. I call out uncertainly, "Charlie?"

The familiar one stops and turns, taking in the sight of us. His companion--Amita, of course--grins as she does the same. "Hey, Don."

"Hey." I give her a nod and prop up on my elbows, careful not to disturb Terry. "What library are you two off to on a day as fine as this?"

"Actually, it's what library we're running away from." Charlie replies sheepishly.

"You are not cutting out on your classes to spend time with your girlfriend, are you?" I ask, trying to keep the grin off of my face. At the reddening of both their faces, I lose the battle to keep a straight face. "You two look like junior high kids caught in the janitor's closet. Don't worry, I won't tell on you." I tease, gesturing to the blanket. Charlie sinks onto it, pulling Amita down with him.

We chat lazily in the sunshine until Amita's laugh causes Terry to stir. The brunette looks horrified, "Oh, I woke you up! I'm sorry."

Terry shakes her head, stretching. "No, it's fine, really. I need to get up. We have to go home and clean up the apartment before you guys show up again tonight anyway."

Amita chuckles. "Don's not much of a housekeeper, huh?"

"You have no idea."

I poke her, and she laughs before rising. "Behave yourselves." I admonish my brother and his companion. They start to rise, but I wave them down. "Keep the blanket. We'll see you tonight." I pick up the cooler and Terry and I start down the path side by side.

"They look more comfortable than they used to." She says conversationally, and I smile.

"Of course they do. They're not doing that blush-and-look-away thing anymore."

She nods. "It's nice to see him so happy. Sometimes I used to worry that--" She continues, but I'm not really listening. Instead, I take the opportunity to look as though I am listening, but I study her instead. Bright, dark eyes dance as she talks. It might be harder for her to walk these days, but her movements are still graceful and steady. She holds her head up with a confidence that's difficult to find in most women, and her smile is as warm and bright as I remember it being ten years ago.

I catch the tail end of her question, "…don't you think?"

"Um…." I reply.

She rolls her eyes. "Do you listen to anything? At all? Ever?" She teases, giving me a shove. "I said, they really look like they're going to last, don't you think?"

I nod, pulling my mind back to the conversation. "I think so."

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The doorbell rings at precisely six o'clock that evening. I open the door, letting the horde of people spill into the living room. David hands me several bags of tortilla chips, and Kylie follows up with a bowl of homemade salsa. Megan, whose light brown hair is pulled back from her face, apparently coming straight form work, hands me grocery bags of soda. "Make sure you have ice--they've been in my car all day." She laughs, then steps aside to let Colby in. He, too, has brought food, a plate of brownies that were definitely not from a store-bought mix. I try to keep the surprise off my face…a single guy who can bake brownies from scratch?

I must not do a good enough job, though, because he laughs heartily at the look on my face. "I had to learn to make something chocolate for a class in college, and I just remembered how to do it. Now that's what I always bring to these sort of digs. You'll get sick of them soon enough."

Megan peels back the wrap and snatches a square. "These are amazing, Granger." She says after swallowing her first bite.

He chuckles. "Thanks."

As I turn to place the plate on the counter, I catch sight of Terry standing in the bedroom doorway, looking slightly uncertain. I set the brownies down and beckon her in. "Terry, this is Colby Granger and Megan Reeves." I introduce smoothly, and she gives me a grateful look. "Colby, Megan, this is my girlfriend, Terry Lake."

Helloes are exchanged before the doorbell rings again. I open the door to find my father, Charlie, and Amita on the other side. Dad is holding a pile of pizza boxes, and Charlie and Amita squeeze past me into the crowded living room. "We helped pay for the pizza." Charlie calls over his shoulder, apparently in explanation of their empty-handedness.

I shake my head at my little brother and his girlfriend, then take the pizza boxes from my father. "You didn't have to do that."

"I have to make sure you're all eating. Chips and brownies do not a dinner make." He replies, surveying the counter behind me.

"I beg to differ." Megan replies, swallowing her final bite. "Those are some seriously good brownies. I could live on them." she wipes her hands on her suit skirt and holds the right one out for my father to take. "I don't think we've met. Megan Reeves."

"Alan Eppes, Donny's and Charlie's father." He replies, shaking her hand and closing the door behind him.

An hour later, the party is in full swing. The plate of brownies is gone (Megan complaining all the while that she'll be spending weeks at the gym for it) and Kylie's salsa is disappearing almost as fast. The boxes of pizza aren't far behind. Terry seems to be having the time of her life, explaining to the girls about the ongoing debate between us about the baby's name, and even my father is having a good time.

I stand in the doorway, plate in one hand, beer in the other, and survey the room. Charlie and Amita are sitting on the loveseat in front of the window, caught in a heated debate about something mathematical, but grinning all the while. Terry, Megan, and Kylie are taking up most of the couch, plates of food on their laps, heads together. Colby, David, and Dad are in the kitchen, eating chips and salsa straight from the bowl and arguing about football. I didn't even know my father liked football.

And it hits me. These people are more than just my coworkers, my acquaintances. They're my friends. And, together, we make up our own little family.

I touch the box in my sweatshirt pocket. Small, velvety, and square, just like every other time I've done this over the past couple of days. Getting Terry's ring size wasn't hard; I just went to Lara. Actually getting the ring on her finger was much more complicated.

Pushing that worry aside for now, I rejoin the party, determined to enjoy myself. And it isn't hard to do.

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Yay! Okay, the big three (Her Secret, Love Me, Love Me Not, and Second Shot) are done. Plus, you guys get a special little one-shot. 'course, you guys deserve a lot more than that for your patience with me, but I hope that'll help a little bit. -Puppy eyes- I love you!

The brownie thing came from personal experience—my best guy-friend from my first college semester made the absolute best chocolate brownies I've ever eaten in all my life. Megan's line, "I beg to differ. Those are some seriously good brownies. I could live on them." is credited to said best guy-friend's roommate's girlfriend (figure that one out), Jess.

I could just see Colby being the type who would make good brownies.

Thanks for all your patience. I will see you next week, I promise. No more 'I hopes' or excuses. I will be here weekly. Not every story will be updated weekly (I do still have this obnoxious thing called school to deal with), but I will update at least one story per week.

Keep checking my journal. I will try to update that each weekday (weekends I don't have internet access), so that should tell you what's going on with me.

Thanks for your patience, and I'll see you soon!

All my love,

Sila