241

Aligned Design

Ch 44

Red, white and blue lights flashed in the rainy night, making it appear as though diamonds, rubies and sapphires fell from the sky. Flares sputtered and smoked on the wet ground, fighting to stay lit. Seven cars and two tractor-trailers lay in a long, mangled heap. They were still extricating the dead, searching for the living.

Alphonse watched, floating above the scene. He noticed several other people along side him, watching the slow, sad action below. No one said anything. No one seemed bothered that they were floating up here, not being rained on, not having to hold on to anything, not feeling afraid of falling. They watched, floating. After a bit, one by one, each of the others turned away and moved over there, toward that light. Alphonse watched, waiting, wondering. Finally, he heard his name and he headed over, into the light.

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The movie ended and the Deakins family made their way to the exit. Sledge and Eames waited until the boss left. Deakins, his wife and daughter walked back to their car, parked at the lot near the restaurant. Sledge hailed a cab outside the plex.

On the way home, both the family and the couple discussed the movie they had just watched. Angie, Julie, and Sledge had hoped for more flesh and between-the-sheets action. Jimmy and Eames were glad there was not more. Both Sledge and Angie knew they would be making their own between-the-sheets action tonight. They both smiled, thinking ahead of what they would do.

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Sledge and Eames went to a quiet little place for dinner. He was starved and Eames wasn't. She never was after eating popcorn; it seemed to swell in her stomach. She ordered anyway; he'll eat it, she thought.

"So, what do you think it means, the boss knowing about us?" Sledge asked her, around bites.

"I don't know. It's going to be weird now. Knowing he knows. It adds a whole other layer."

"Well, it's not a big deal, Goren knows, too."

"What! You told Bobby! Edward, why in the world –"

Sledge swallowed and said, "Whoa, Nellie. I didn't tell him. He figured it out. You know how he is. He got all Sherlock whilst you and I were talking and he figured it out. He's a freak that way, always sniffing out things."

That's just great – Bobby, now Deakins, oh and Bishop knows, too. "This changes everything, Edward. Debriefings are going to be so weird now." He chewed on.

Bobby will be ok with the information, she thought. It's just another fact to him. Bishop has been cool so far. She'll be good about it. Deakins, well he's the one Eames didn't know about. He'll probably not want to think about it. Who else knows, she wondered. Heck, Logan and his new partner, Freckles, probably know, too.

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Deakins and Angie kissed Julie goodnight and locked up. Angie took extra time in the bathroom. She brushed her hair and spritzed on scent. She had plans.

Deakins thought about Sledge and Eames. Never would have put those two together, he thought. Man, this is really going to screw up the dynamic in the bullpen. Debriefings are going to be awkward, stilted. This better not affect the solve rate. Jimmy changed and pulled on his flannel pajama bottoms.

"Oh, no you don't, Mister," Angie said when she spotted Jimmy's plaid clad legs sweeping under the covers.

"What?" he asked, looking at her questioningly.

"Huh, uh, you take off those bottoms. You are going to pleasure your woman."

Jimmy Deakins fell back onto his pillow with a smile.

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Bobby and Gleason sat at the kitchen table, Bobby made a pot of tea and Gleason sat eating the last roll. "We need to get more butter," she said, scrapping the last of it from the sides of the tub.

Bobby smiled and said, "Tomorrow. In the morning, we don't we go get a nice big breakfast and then get groceries?"

Gleason nodded and pulled apart the last piece of the roll. She sat up, her back hurt, low, right above her bottom. Like when she was going to start her period. See, she was right – she knew she wasn't pregnant. Need to get some things tomorrow, she said to herself.

We need to talk, he thought. He got up and went to the closet for the pregnancy test in his jacket.

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Kyle turned out to be quite the limber lad. My, my, what that boy could do. Tilley, especially, enjoyed Kylie. Jenese enjoyed watching Tilley enjoy himself. They tumbled and treated each other with strokes and pokes, pulls and pinches, licks and sucks.

Finally, they quit fooling with each other's parts and ordered room service, Kylie's treat. They pulled on pants before it arrived and pulled them off after it did. When they finished dinner, they ordered up a movie, a sex movie – again Kylie's treat. The movie was a disappointment however, all guys and gals doing it every which way.

With nothing left to do, they did each other. Again. And again. Then again. Oh, the limber Kylie!

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"What's that?" Gleason asked.

"Honey, uh, this, this is a –,"

Gleason took the box from his hand, looked at it and then looked up at him. Neither said anything. She handed it back to him and he took it. Gleason stood and walked back to the bedroom. She lay down on her side of the bed and pulled up her green throw.

Oh, boy, thought Bobby. "Honey," he said, starting down the hall.

He saw her lying on her side, away from him. "Sweetheart, we need to do this. Gleason?" He went around the bed and sat beside her. She would not look at him. He put his left hand on her hip. "Honey, we need to do this," he said softly. "Ok? The first time you pee in the morning, we need to do this."

Gleason lay there, not looking at him. I will not. I am not. I am not. No. No. I am not. Bobby felt her begin to shiver; he watched it escalate. "Honey, talk to me. Gleason, look at me. Sweetheart. . ."

Gleason did not want to cry. She would not cry. If she cried, it would mean she was afraid it might be true. Her eyes filled. Her right hand went to her face and she began to cry in earnest.

"Oh, honey," Bobby's heart broke seeing her cry. "Gleason it will be ok. No matter what it says, it will be ok." He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. He got up off the bed and went into the bathroom. He set the box on top of the tank. She would see it when she lifted the lid.

Bobby returned from the bathroom, sat beside her and said, "Gleason, sit up. We have to talk about this. Come on. Sit up." He pulled off her throw and slid his hand under her upper right arm. "Honey, please."

Reluctantly, Gleason sat up, crossed her legs and pushed the stray hair from her face. She heaved a huge sigh and reached for her throw. Bobby took it and wrapped it around her. She took the ends and hugged it closed. She would not look at him.

"Gleason, when was your last period?"

She wouldn't look at him and she didn't answer. Bobby had a flash of heat, red rushed into his vision. His hands clenched and he gritted his teeth. Don't! he shouted to himself. DO NOT! He snapped his head to the right, away from her, squeezed shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Calm, just calm down. He sat like that for a long moment. When he looked back at Gleason, he saw her staring at him. She looked afraid.

"Honey . . . Gleason. Please talk to me. We need to . . ."

"I am not pregnant. I cannot be pregnant. I will not be pregnant. I'm not. No."

He didn't know what to say. He recognized the denial. "Gleason –,"

Gleason yelled, "No! Bobby, I won't have a baby! I can't. I won't! Don't you understand? I cannot have a baby. Put it out of your mind. I am not pregnant! There is no baby! Now let's leave it alone. Leave me alone." Until this moment, Gleason had never raised her voice to him. She had never had reason to.

Bobby was at a loss. He looked at her. What do I say? Why is she so adamant? "Honey, why? Why don't you want a baby? Tell me," he spoke softly, tenderly.

Gleason looked away; she swung her head up, looking at the ceiling. Tell him everything. Be honest. He loves you. It won't matter. He's not Gavin. Without looking at him, Gleason said softly, "I cannot be a mother. I don't know how. I don't know what a family is supposed to be like. I never had a family. I don't know how, Bobby. I don't know how." Finally, she looked at him.

That's it? She afraid? Oh, we can get through this. "Honey, Sweetheart, everyone is afraid of being a parent. Everyone's family is screwed up. We can make a family. We'll do this together. It will be ok. You'll see."

She looked at him. Tell him the rest; go on. "I'm too old to have a baby Bobby. You know that. This was not supposed to happen." She saw he was about to dispute that logic and continued softly looking directly into his eyes, "Bobby, I don't want to be a mother. I don't want to have a baby. I am moving to Chicago in a few months. I cannot have a baby and move to Chicago. I have to work or I'll lose my visa and then I'll have to go back home. I don't want to go back. I want to stay here with you. I love you. I want you."

He looked at her. He didn't know what to think. She doesn't want a baby? He had to think about this. She doesn't want a baby? He looked at her. Then he looked away. He couldn't talk about it. Not yet. He needed to think about all that she had said.

"Bobby?"

"Uh, let's," he cleared his throat; it was hard to talk. He stood, not looking at her, his hand moving, "I, I uh . . . you go back to sleep. I'm going to stay up a while yet." He walked to the bedroom door, stopped, put a hand on the jamb and had to catch his breath. She doesn't want a baby?

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After Gleason had gone back to sleep, Bobby had sat for a long time in his chair in the dark, thinking. She really does not want this. I'm sure she's pregnant. I'm certain. He wanted to talk with her about this. He had so many questions. When was her last period? Who was her gynecologist? Why, why, why wouldn't she consider having a baby with him? They could get married, and she would not need to worry about a visa. He wanted to marry her. She is the one. He knew it. He knew it.