Sorry this is such a short chapter, but it has been a busy weekend. More will come soon

The More Things Change

Chapter Two

"I taking Hank for a walk, anybody want anything?" Jim called as he shrugged on his suit jacket.

"Could you pick up soft pretzel, you know… with lots of salt… if you could." Karen's voice petered out.

"No problem, one salty pretzel for my partner." Jim smiled as the elevator door closed and he had his cell phone out and dialed before the doors opened again. Christie picked up on the second ring.

"Did you hear from the doctor?"

"Hello to you too, detective, don't you have to read me my rights before you interrogate me?" Christie snapped back.

Jim stopped walking to concentrate on the call. "I'm sorry, I'm just worried. How are you feeling?"

"Empty and tired and…. I don't know, just not right. And I haven't gotten the test results yet."

"I was thinking about you being sick in the morning, that you might be…" he didn't want to say the word, didn't want to jinx the whole situation.

"I was thinking the same thing too," her voice was soft and vaguely wistful, "but you can't even say the word."

"Christie, I'm taking Hank for a walk so I'm out of the squad room. Christie, this would be good. We'd make it good. We'd make it work for us, all of us. I'm just not getting my hopes up until the tests come in and we find out it's not food poisoning or the flu."

"A lot of babies started out as the flu," the smile in her voice wrapped around Jim like a quick hug.

"Call my cell as soon as you hear, okay?"

"Okay, see you later."

"Bye, I love you." He clicked his phone shut and finally started Hank's walk. "Sorry, boy, but if everything works out you'll be an uncle."

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When Jim got back into the squad room his nose was overpowered with the smell of flowers.

"Hey, Jim, you should see what came for Karen when you were out." Tom called as Jim walked to his desk.

"Let me guess, a dozen long stemmed roses?" He settled Hank in then extended his hands toward Karen's desk.

"Try four dozen," Russo chimed in. "There are colors here I never knew roses came in. Red, pink, yellow, pinky orangey yellowy mixes, Hell, I haven't seen this many flowers since my Aunt Regina died."

"You are a true romantic, Marty." Jim reached out to touch the source of the heady scent. The soft, papery feel of the blooms reminded Jim to get flowers for Christie. "Who sent them and where is Karen? I've got her pretzel for her."

"She grabbed the card and ran to the ladies room. I think she doesn't want us to know who sent these. Couldn't possibly be some lawyer type now, could it." Marty snickered. "You could always go in there and just say you lost your way."

"Yeah, and you could always go in there and say what an idiot you are. She'll tell us when she's ready." Jim drew one of the roses to his face and drank in the fragrance. Yeah, he would get Christie flowers tonight.

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Marty and Karen left together at six because he was carrying all those roses for Karen. He almost ran into her when she stopped abruptly. Peeking through the blooms he saw the old Checker Marathon parked on the curb with Frank Daniels sitting on the hood. He had another bouquet of roses in his hands.

Marty let out a long, low whistle. "Is that what Lover Boy drives?"

Karen ignored her squad mate and walked up to her boyfriend. "What have you done—hijack a florist's delivery van."

Frank stuck out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout. "You don't like flowers?" He pulled back his arm to toss the roses in the gutter, causing Karen to jump to rescue the gorgeous blooms from the dirty street.

"I love roses," she huffed as she swung back to confront Frank. "I don't love having everyone from Fisk on down wondering what is going on. Have you lost your mind?"

Frank's expression immediately sobered. "I just wanted to make you happy. I need to talk to you," he swung his eyes over to Russo, "alone."

"I know when I'm not wanted." Marty opened the back door of the ancient taxi and settled the flowers in the back. "Karen, I'll see you tomorrow, take care of the flower child."

"Bye, Marty," they said in unison as Russo left for home.

Karen watched as Frank slide off the hood of the cab. His arms did the majority of the work as Frank maneuvered his feeble legs to the ground. Once his feet were firmly planted he reached for his crutches, stepped up and gave himself a mental 'ta da'.

"Getting up was harder than getting down."

"I cam imagine."

"Come on, let's go home."

Karen was looking anywhere but at Frank. "Yeah, I have to go home. My home… I gotta water the plants and clean out the fridge and… think."

When her eyes landed on Frank's face she saw an emotionless mask.

"Frank," she knew she sounded desperate, "give me a little time alone with this. I haven't had a minute of peace to think about what to do."

"I thought we were going to discuss what was going to happen together."

Karen mood switched to anger. "Frank, I had to drive through downtown traffic twice today to because a derelict found a DB under a dumpster. It doesn't matter if some wino dies of natural causes we still have to investigate it like it's a murder until proved otherwise." She threw her hands in the air. "And the roses, I loved them but the guys never shut up about the damn things and my nerves are just about shot and I want to go home." By the time she finished Karen was in tears and didn't realize she had walked into Frank's arms and allowed his strength to comfort her.

"Sssshh, baby," he crooned in her ear, "I'll take you home. I'll take you to the moon if that's where you want to go. I just want you to know I never meant to make you cry."

Frank looked up and saw Lieutenant Fisk staring at him and Karen. The man looked like he wanted to rip Frank's face off. Instead Fisk turned his hand into an imaginary gun and pointed it at him. Frank knew he was in a whole lot of trouble.

tbc