A/N: I don't know how many of you are keeping up with my journal or if you've read my new Supernatural story, but you'll find the excuses for the lack of updates there. WRITER'S BLOCK! -Curses Writer's Block back to the depths of Hell-

I changed around the plotline a little bit. The preview you got last chapter will actually be part of the final chapter now. It fits better there. Plus it gives us a little more room for Don/Terry angst, which will appear in swells the size of Mount Everest next chapter. Yay! Don angst! (I really love to torture my favorite characters. Consider it a compliment, Donny.)

Disclaimer: Yes, I still don't own the show. Yes, I still wish I did.

Love Me, Love Me Not Chapter 3
Pillows

Don cursed—loudly—and raced out the front door, down the steps, and to the end of the driveway. By the time he arrived, however, the enormous black truck was turning at the end of the road, leaving nothing but the crushed car behind to show it had ever been there.

He sighed and gazed levelly at the huge dent, as though it were responsible for every evil in the world. He felt more than saw Terry draw up beside him and, a moment later, felt her shoulder brush his. "I think it's time we said something. It's serious now."

"Yes." He agreed. "I think so. Dad, can we borrow your car?" He asked the man who still stood, stunned, in the doorway.

Alan nodded dumbly, fishing his keys from his pocket and tossing them to his older son. Don gave his father, brother, and Amita a quick, reassuring smile and motioned to the car. Terry followed his unspoken request and led the way.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Agent Eppes?" Director Sarah Young, who had been "assigned" the case, stood in the doorway and motioned for him to follow her inside the office. He gave Terry a quick glance as she was led away to another office to tell her own story. She cast a quick smile over her shoulder at him, and he took comfort in it.

He followed the agent into her office, sinking gratefully into the chair she offered. Waiting for her to speak, he mentally ran over and over his story, trying to figure out how he could tell his story without confessing about his relationship with his coworker.

"Okay, Agent Eppes, why don't you tell me what you know." She said, smiling to ease his obvious discomfort. She was young for a director, but there was an air of experience about her. No doubt, this woman knew her stuff.

He took a deep breath, smiling nervously at her. "Well, I was there when Terry found the box of chocolates—the first "gift" from her stalker on her desk. I took the note and the chocolates to the lab, but both came back with nothing to follow up on. That night, she received another box and several disturbing phone calls—untraceable. After that, though, it was very quiet until this afternoon, when she arrived home and found dozens of roses in her apartment. She also discovered a videotape, which she played on her VCR and discovered that it was a recorded message to her.

"She immediately called me and asked me to meet at my brother's house—neutral ground; he's our consultant, and both of us figured her stalker wouldn't look for her there. She opted to take a cab and got caught in traffic. I made it to my brother's without incident and was waiting inside when Amita, who is a friend of Charlie's, arrived. She offered me this envelope," He dug into the briefcase he'd had the presence of mind to grab before racing out the door and produced the yellow envelope, safely sealed in a plastic bag, "which held these photographs." Another set of bags were supplied, and a photograph lay inside each. He offered them to the girl, "No one in my house touched them. While we were still discussing the pictures, there was this crunching sound, and we all ran to the windows. There was a truck pulling out of the drive. He'd hit my car."

She was studying him, her light eyes flashing with calculation. "How long have you and Agent Lake been dating?" She asked suddenly.

His jaw dropped, and he clamored for an answer, recovering his professional air about ten seconds too late. "Wha—what?"

She smiled gently, "How long? It's okay, Agent, I'm not going to fire you."

He closed his mouth and avoided her gaze. "Since just after we got home from working the Baxter case in Pittsburgh." He said softly.

"Love is where you find it, Agent Eppes." She replied, just as quietly.

He smiled, a faraway look coming into his dark eyes. "You've got a point. I know it's against the rules."

"I've always hated that rule."

"I'm her boss. She's not supposed to fall in love with me."

She held up her hand, a large diamond flashing on the fourth finger. "Why not? I'm marrying mine." She stood and offered him her hand. "Don't worry; your secret stays with me and mine. We'll crack this and do our best to find a way to leave your relationship out of it."

He shook her hand firmly, giving her a grateful smile. "Thank you so much, Miss Young. I appreciate it."

She gave him a nod. "Now, I believe it's your day off. Get out of here and do something about your car." She said with a warm smile. "Talk to Richie in accounting, I'm sure we can do something for you while your car is out of commission."

He thanked her again and hurried down the hall. When he reached the lobby, Terry was already waiting, concern in her dark eyes. "They took the tape. They're going to know."

"That's okay." He said softly, guiding her out the door. "I've got it covered."

-------------------------------------

"Dad, mind if I grab a beer?"

"Course not, Donny." Alan waved his son off.

"Anybody want?" He called as he moved to the kitchen. No answer, so he pulled a bottle from the fridge and made his way back to the living room. "Thanks for letting us borrow the car, Dad."

He and Terry had arrived home in separate cars—one the Bureau had given him an advance on, to use until his was repaired. She'd driven that one, and he had returned his father's.

"Sure." Alan leaned back in his chair and fixed his sons and their respective girlfriends with an expectant glance. "So, anybody care to fill me in?"

"Hey, don't look at me." Amita held up a slim hand in defense. "I didn't know any more about this than you did." She turned to Charlie, who gave her his patented sheepish aren't-I-cute grin.

Terry looked to Don, as if looking for permission. He nodded to her, motioning for her to take the lead. "Go for it."

For the next ten minutes, the only sound in the room was Terry's soft and steady voice as she explained everything to them…the candy, the flowers, the tape, and the pictures. As she finished, they all sat in the quiet for a few minutes. Finally, Alan smiled at them. "You don't seem too upset about this."

"I'm really not." Terry replied, surprised to find that it was true. "It's odd, because I should be. But I think having it out there, having someone besides me deal with it, is putting my mind at ease already."

"That makes sense." He nodded, crossing his left ankle over his right knee and resting his hands on it. "It takes some of the pressure off."

Charlie leaned forward, threading his hands together between his knees and bowing his head over it. "You two are like disaster magnets. First you," He glanced up at his brother, amusement dancing in his dark and sharp eyes, "And now you. What's next?"

"Ah, don't say that." Don groaned, sinking back into the chair he had sat down in only seconds before. "What a mess."

Terry rose, stretched, and sighed. "I'm gonna call a cab, if it's okay. I need to get home and make sure I clean up the mess the collectors might have left when they took the roses this morning."

Don rose. "I'll come with you."

She gave him a quick once-over. "You look exhausted and I know I am. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine, I promise, and I'll call you right away if something happens."

"Terry—" He was painfully aware of the rest of his family and Amita sitting in the room nearby. He didn't want to argue with Terry. It was the last thing she needed right then. But he didn't want to let her go, either.

"All right, all right!" She laughed. "I'll let you play knight-in-shining-armor a little while longer. Come on, Sir Don. Let's go. I'm tired." She waved at Charlie, Amita, and Alan, and Don followed her out.

When they arrived at Terry's apartment, there was still yellow tape across the doorway and the small apartment was still full of people. They sat in the car and watched the comings and goings of the criminalists for a few moments before he turned to her. "Want to stay at my place tonight?"

She nodded. "I don't want to even know what it'll look like in there tomorrow. Rose petals everywhere, dirt, probably spilled water…" She sighed.

"I'll help you clean up." He promised, turning the car around. "For now, let's get home."

By the time they made it to bed that night, it was nearly eleven o'clock, despite both of their declarations that it would be an early night. Terry was asleep in seconds, but Don was finding it more difficult to fall asleep.

Her face looked so peaceful in the moonlight, he mused. A hand was tucked beneath her cheek, her hair was damp from her shower, and a pink cotton camisole trimmed in lace and pink satin pajama pants completed the innocent look.

Don brushed the hair back from her face. "I love you." He whispered. She didn't stir, but then, he hadn't expected her to.

Settling an arm gently around her waist, he pulled her to him and surrendered to sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------

Don was gone by the time she woke. She yawned and stretched, rolling over. A long-stemmed single red rose lay on Don's pillow.

She sat up, smiled serenely, and buried her nose in the flower. Inhaling its scent, she dug through her purse for her cell phone.

"Eppes." He picked up after the second ring.

"Hey." She said softly.

"You're awake." There was a smile in his voice. "I'm on my way home."

"Great." She said with a grin.

"Did you just wake up?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the flower."

There was a pause. "Uh…the flower?"

"The rose you left on my pillow." She elaborated, feeling a swell of fear begin in the pit of her stomach.

Silence. Then, "Terry, get out of there. I didn't leave that flower. He must have been in my apartment, and he might still be there. Get out."

"My gun is in your car, Don." She said, trying to keep her voice calm and even.

"Just go." He said urgently.

She did. Pulling her clean jeans on and leaving everything else, she hurried from the apartment, down the iron stairs, and onto the brightly lit street. "I'm out." She told him, breathing a sigh of relief as she joined the bustling crowds of people milling about the sidewalk.

"Great. Sit on the bench out front, I'll be right there."

She did, relaxing in the sunshine and listening to the terse silence on the other end of the phone. Finally, Don's new black SUV arrived at the curb, and he leaned across the passenger's seat to push the door open. "I've called David and Kylie. We're going to meet them at the office."

"Okay." She said softly, clenching her hands in her lap.

"This is going to be okay." He promised.

"I know."

---------------------------

So there. I did manage to get something done this week. I never liked the way I had the old chapter, so I decided it was time I fixed it to be the way I liked it. :) This chapter is a bit transition-y—setting up for next chapter, which is where the story will REALLY pick up. It shall be dramatic, painful….hey, why don't I let you read it for yourself?

Chapter 4: Diamonds