A/N: Hey guys. Just a quick thank you to all of you taking the time to read this and especially to those who take the extra time to leave me a review. Huge hugs to Greggo Maniac, Sunset and Chickie Baby for the beta work. You guys are the best thing since sliced bread.

Chapter Twelve: I'm Pregnant, What'cha Want for Dinner?

Catherine walked in the house with roughly thirty minutes to spare before Lindsey got home. She would have had closer to an hour but nerves or no, she'd wanted--really, really wanted--some ice cream, so a stop at Baskin Robbins had been warranted.

She now leaned against the kitchen's island, open pint of Jamoca Almond Fudge in one hand, spoon in the other, trying to figure out just how she was going to tell Lindsey.

Several possible scenarios ran through her mind while she licked the inside of the spoon.

"Hey, Linds? Remember how you always wanted a little brother or sister? Well, guess what?" just wasn't going to work. Might've flown when Lindsey was six, but no way would she go for that now. Catherine smirked at the thought.

She absent mindedly crunched an almond and tried again, but "Hey Lindsey, I"m having a baby, what d'you want for dinner?" didn't strike her as too good an idea either.

She thought of a few other ways to try and break the news but none of them seemed right and soon the spoon thumped the bottom of the carton, bringing her out of her thoughts.

Glancing down, she saw that the ice cream wasgone, and only a milky, light brown layer remained.

She hadn't intended to eat the whole thing, especially considering that she'd just used up her caffeine allowance for the day in one sitting-or leaning, as it were. She gave a short sigh. So much for coffee later.

Shift is gonna be a blast, she thought sarcastically and moved to toss the empty container in the trash, thinking that 300 milligrams of caffeine a day was nowhere near enough.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud slam of the front door.

No more time to think, Lindsey was home.

She steeled herself, slipping into a kitchen chair and preparing as best she could for the reaction of the emotional hurricane in the other room. "Lindsey? Honey, can you come here a minute?"

If the loud and overly dramatic sigh was any indication, this conversation would not be an easy one.

Lindsey walked into the kitchen, dropping her book bag on the tile floor before dropping herself in the chair opposite her mother, resting an arm on the table. Her sullen expression made Catherine wonder just what had brought on such an unhappy mood.

"Lindsey," she began, dropping her gaze to her clasped hands, "we've got to talk."

"I didn't do anything," Lindsey stated quickly. Catherine eyed her with a slightly skeptical expression, making a mental note to find out what Lindsey had "not done" later.

"This isn't about you Linds..." She paused, thinking better of what she'd said. "What I mean is, that it concerns you, but not something you did...It's about...me".

Lindsey gave her a curious look, concern showing in her eyes.

"Nothing's wrong," Catherine quickly assured her, and Lindsey seemed to relax, the look of impatient indifference returning. Catherine chose to take solace in the fact that her daughter had been worried in the first place.

"What is it then?"

For a second, Catherine considered using the "I'm pregnant. Whatcha want for dinner?" line but kept her tongue in check. "Well, the other day while I was at work I got...sick-"

"Sick?" Lindsey interrupted, brows furrowed. "You said nothing's wrong." Her concern now crept into her voice.

"It's not. Something made me nauseous, ok? I, uh...threw up but that's it. I'm fine," Catherine said, adding the last part as much for her benefit as Lindsey's.

Lindsey looked doubtful but said nothing.

Catherine continued. "Anyway, when I got home I called Roz. You remember Roz?"

Lindsey nodded, brows knitting again. She'd met the woman a few times. Roz was a doctor and you only needed doctors when something was wrong.

Catherine paused, searching for words. This was a lot harder than she'd thought it would be.

Lindsey watched her, her own nerves starting to get the better of her. "Mom, spit it out. You said nothing's wrong. It's not like you've got cancer or you're pregnant or something," she said, rolling her eyes. Her tone was purposefully sarcastic but a bit of worry crept in.

Catherine blinked at Lindsey's comment, her eyebrows shooting towards her hairline, causing Lindsey's expression to become openly concerned. "You don't have cancer, do you?" she blurted.

"Uh, no, honey. No cancer..." Catherine said, her mind chanting just say it!

Lindsey let out a relieved breath. "Well, then what..." her voice trailed off and her eyes went wide. "Oh my God! You're pregnant!" exclaimed in disbelief.

Catherine nodded, reaching out to grasp the incredulous teen's hand. She was determined to stay calm, no matter how upset her daughter got. Just what good would the both of them being hysterical do anyway? "Lindsey-"

"What the hell, mom? How could you do this? How could you get pregnant?" Lindsey asked, her tone disbelieving, eyes glinting. "You don't even have time for me now. How're you gonna have time for me with a baby?" Her voice cracked and the first tears finally flooded her lids, trailing down her face.

Catherine's gut clenched at her daughter's obvious anguish and she got up, circling the table. "Lindsey, baby, I-"

But Lindsey was hearing none of it and jumped to her feet. "No!" She shook her head, yelling now. "I don't wanna hear it. I don't care anymore. About you or that baby," she spat, raw anger and pain mixing with the tears. "Why should I? Nobody cares about me!" she screamed and rushed from the room, kicking her book bag aside in her haste, its contents littering the floor.

Catherine stood still, momentarily stunned by what had just happened, before heading after her. She was only a few steps behind, but the head start was enough for the girl to get upstairs to her room and slam the door, seconds before Catherine reached it.

She tested the knob, finding it locked, of course. She cursed herself for allowing Lindsey to talk her into letting her keep the lock in the first place.

"Lindsey? Open up," she called through the wood, trying to keep her voice calm.

"No! I'm not coming out!"

Catherine's gaze went skyward and she shut her eyes, tamping down the urge to scream. She summoned up her best 'I'm your mother and I mean business voice' and tried again. "Lindsey!" she called, and banged on the doorframe. "Open this door, right now!" she demanded.

A rock song blared in answer, loud enough to block her banging and yelling, and Catherine pressed her forehead to the cool wood of the door, forcing herself to calm down. Aside from limiting her caffeine intake, Roz had warned her repeatedly about the dangers of even minor stress.

Catherine considered her options, quickly coming to the conclusion that, short of breaking down the door, her efforts were a practice in futility. She told herself that Lindsey just needed some time to cool down and get used to the idea. She knew that eventually, Lindsey would come around. It was just a matter of time. She hoped.

She rested her forehead against the door a few more seconds before sighing and forcing herself from the doorway, the heavy bass of the music following her down the stairs.

She lowered herself to the couch, a long sigh pushing its way past her lips.

No stress? Sure, no problem...Yeah, right.

Thanks so much for reading, as always. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lot's of drama from this point on. Leave a review if the spirit so moves you and as always here's your spoiler: Sara arrived early for shift, though that was normal for her. Aside from Grissom, though, nobody else generally followed that trend, which was why she was surprised to find Nick in the locker room straddling a bench, one foot propped on the wood in front of him as he tied his shoe.

"Nick. What're you doing here?"