A/N: Well, sick days are good for something. Oh goddddddd I feel like this whole week I've been steadily growing worse… ~ meowser

Scott squeezed the mini basketball in his palm, trying to relieve the tension of just sitting here. He hated these afternoons, out doing surveillance on some random druggies.

He wanted to be back in the office, doing research on Preston, trying to crack this thing and make sure that when Mr. Jennings was on trial, he would get nailed.

To the fucking wall.

Unfortunately that wasn't all that needed to be done. No matter how much he did to prove that Preston wasn't who he said he was...the way the system works, the battle that had to be won was that Mackenzie was the girl no one believed she could be.

The good girl.

God damn it, why did she have to be good, though? Why did it matter if the girl was good or bad, if it was rape?

It was rape.

She said no.

These days were dragging by. Scott got back to the station a mind numbing two hours later, shocked to find Mack sitting in the waiting area.

She looked incandescent, as always. Her cheeks had a rosy glow to them, and her blonde hair was in a braid. God, Mack in braids was his kryptonite. She was in a maternity dress; it was long and loose, leaving her arms bare. She smiled when she saw him; a tired smile, but she was determinedly pushing herself to her feet, leaving Scott to dart forward and take hold of one delectable arm, helping her up.

"I want to say that I didn't need the help, but I think the truth is that I hesitated to want it," she said, smiling up at him. "Hey, Scott."

"What are you doing here?" He asked, voice incredulous, hands running over her almost unconsciously, falling to land on her stomach.

She laughed, her cheeks growing redder, and he pulled away, his own cheeks coloring. "Sorry, I don't—"

"No, I know," she said, grabbing his hands and placing them back on her stomach. "It has this weird magnetic pull. You're not the first." She ducked her head. "You might be the first I put back though."

Scott breathed in, smelling her light perfume, his hands covered by hers, both on her swollen stomach. "You didn't answer," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Just another interview," she said.

His brow creased; he specifically didn't remember this, and then he saw LeTrai poke his head from his office, the chief's face falling when he saw Scott standing there.

Apparently Scott hadn't been part of the equation this afternoon.

"You're back early," LeTrai said flatly, as Detective Blair stepped out from behind him, her arms folding when she saw Scott.

"Yeah, I took care of it," he said simply, removing his hands from Mack's stomach and folding his own arms.

He missed the way Mack's gaze shot there, drinking in the sight of his flexed arms, before darting away to meet LeTrai's worried gaze.

"What's this?" Scott asked.

"It's just a formality," LeTrai said. "Mack, you ready?"

"Yeah," Mackenzie replied, stepping forward.

"Ready for what?" Scott bit out.

"It's just a discussion," Detective Blair began.

"Yeah, I actually wasn't sure what to make of the Summons but I just thought I'd come down here and ask," Mackenzie said.

"Summons?" Scott said, holding an instinctive arm out to block Mack from stepping forward again. She raised an eyebrow at it; he sheepishly lowered it. "What kind of summons?"

"Preston Jennings is charging Mackenzie Clancy with slander," a slick looking man said, off to the side. "Is your lawyer here, Miss Clancy?"

Her eyes were widening, and she obviously had no idea what was going on here.

Scott scraped a hand over his forehead, realizing in a moment of clarity that he had never met Mackenzie's lawyer.

"Can we have a moment?" Scott interrupted.

LeTrai heaved a sigh, but steered Preston's lawyer back into the conference room, shooting Scott a look over his shoulder.

"Why aren't your parents here?" Scott asked Mackenzie, voice worried, urging her to sit back down.

"I'm not a kid," she said. "They don't need to be."

Scott had never felt like this with Mackenzie before: frustrated with her, and not with the situation. "They don't need to be," he repeated. "But what did you think when you got the summons?" He took it from the bench she'd been sitting on, seeing it for the first time. "This is an official, legal document."

"I know," Mackenzie said. "Which is why I called my lawyer and told her to meet me here."

"Her?" Scott asked a little blankly.

"I'm sorry I'm late, traffic was terrible," a redheaded woman said, frizzy hair bouncing as she ran through the station doors. "I had to drop off David at his part time job, and then Izzy has swimming today. I'm sorry," she repeated.

As first impressions went, Scott's was of a very short, very pale, definitely Irish, definitely busy out of her mind woman. "Neave Eldridge," she said, sticking her hand out for him to shake. "You must be Scott O'Neill."

"Yes," he said.

"Nice to meet you, I've heard good things," she said.

"I…" He began.

"Listen, Scott, I know this is terrible, but Neave says that this doesn't stand a chance," Mackenzie began.

Neave was already heading for the conference room, pausing at the coffee pot to pour herself a styrofoam cup that she took one sip of and then grimaced, tossing it in the trash can.

Scott couldn't stifle the grin that appeared on his face at the motion. The station's coffee was crap.

"So none of you were going to tell me?" Scott said.

"I didn't say that," Mack began.

"But basically, it wasn't something I was supposed to find out about," Scott said.

"Yes, because this is my case," Mack exploded. "And I don't want your life more entangled with mine than it has to be, especially since people are already looking at you funny now."

Scott hadn't even begun to understand the meaning of her words before she'd pushed past him, joining Neave by the conference room door.

It wasn't about not trusting him.

It was about...not hurting him? At least on Mack's side?

"I know very clearly that you're choosing to stand by me throughout this," Mack said carefully, one hand on the doorknob. "And I am so very grateful. But you can't be there for everything. It's just unrealistic and I didn't want to pressure you."

With that, she opened the door and walked inside.

Neave, about to follow, smiled gently at Scott. "Keep trying," she said. "And keep on in your investigation of Mr. Jennings. We need everything you can get on him, and we know there's a lot."

She moved inside, closing the door behind her.

Scott melted into his chair, legs suddenly weak.

The stress ball appeared again in his hands, tossed from tense, long fingers to the other hand, clenched in fists for a brief moment before repeating the catch.

He did paperwork on the druggie's arrest, kept an eye on the conference room door, and then heaved a sigh, going to the yellow legal pad he had on notes for the Jennings investigation.

There was one from a while ago, that he'd never crossed out; had purposefully been avoiding because something (that was probably pride but Scott didn't want to admit that) was stopping him.

Talk to Chase. Ask him to be a character witness for Mack.

There was a very visceral no in his chest at the very thought. First of all, fuck no, why did she even need character witnesses, as if she was the one on trial?

And second of all…

Scott didn't want to see Chase redeemed; he wanted to remember him as a jerk. He didn't want to think of the man that Mack had dated as human, because he wanted to be the only guy he could see Mack dating.

It was pride.

Scott threw it down and grabbed the keys to his squad car; Ned looked up in surprise. "Where the hell are you going?" He asked.

"I have someone to talk to," Scott said, his eyes darting, along with Ned's, to the conference room.

She might need someone to talk to when it's over, he could read Ned's mind.

But if Mack wasn't going to let him in...he couldn't always be there for her if she was still shutting him out of some parts. And that was healthy for both of them.

He wasn't sure he could handle that moment again, of her thinking he wasn't committed to this, of taking him so for granted that she'd planned on not telling him something so fucking vital.

She'd doubted him.

And that had been such a blow.

Scott took the keys and strode from the station.

Hell yes he wanted to rescue her, be her knight in shining armor.

But at this point, he'd settle for being her knight's armor bearer. He had no idea who the knight was; Neave? Possibly. But if she wouldn't let it be him, he was going to do his utter best to get this thing over and done with anyway.

There was no other choice. He loved her. He loved her with every beat of his aching heart.

Mackenzie sat for a moment in the conference room after Preston and his lawyers had exited, feeling shaken. She bit back a small moan as the same pain from earlier came and went; they were just false contractions, her dad had warned her about these.

"So," Neave said, clearing her throat. "Still confident?"

"It was hard, in the face of those questions," Mack admitted. "And I hate that second lawyer of his, but I got past it."

She bit her lip, conveniently slipping past the fact that it was the thought of Scott and Freya that had kept her calm. The thought of talking to Scott after this, drawing comfort from him, and the knowledge that letting herself get too stressed could be bad for her daughter.

She'd kept calm.

She couldn't say that there wasn't something about Preston that didn't still terrify her, but he'd lost some of his power over her.

She'd looked him in the eyes today. She hadn't flinched. She'd told the truth, and the whole goddamn truth.

And he'd been the one to look away.

She stood up, again pushing past a discomfort in her lower abdomen.

"We'll be fine, the hearing on this will be on Monday," Neave said. "And I'll bet a lot of things that it never gets past it."

"Okay," Mackenzie said. "I trust you."

Neave smiled, a little saucily. "You should," she said. "Even if I'm a subpar mother at times, I'm a kickass lawyer."

"You aren't a bad mother," Mackenzie protested.

"Honey, you should see me in a kitchen," Neave chuckled. "And well, that's why David's father left me."

Mack remembered the few times she'd seen Neave with her son; how he carried his father's fine Mexican heritage, showing almost none of his mother.

'I don't think that's why," Mack said, as Neave gathered her papers together.

"Why do you think then?" Neave said.

"I think he wasn't man enough for you, and he could see that too," Mack began, knowing before she finished the words that she was wrong.

But Neave was laughing off the pain; yet Mack could see that the words pained her.

"He was man enough," she said. "Don't worry about it, he's far in the past, Mackenzie." She smiled warmly. "I'll see you Monday. Now go find that officer of yours and tell him that he can stop worrying."

"He's not mine," Mack said lamely but Neave had already slipped from the room, leaving the door ajar.

Mackenzie followed her, seeing the way some of the officers in the station turned to watch the woman leave. "Neave," she called, and her lawyer spun around.

"What?"

"If he's far in the past, stop letting him dictate your present," Mackenzie began slowly. "Why bring him up if he's in the past?"

Neave laughed out loud. "When there are kids involved, it's never actually buried," she said. "Just when you think it's over and done with, there are more swimming lessons to pay for and who foots the bill? Not to mention, oh god, David's turning eighteen next year. I don't even want to begin the arguments over who pays for college but we're already two petitions in."

"There's something that you aren't saying," Mackenzie said. "And considering that you know more about me than most women know about their daughters at this point, let me in a little."

Neave considered her for a moment, gaze hard and all warmth vanished. "What's your real reason behind not telling Scott everything?" She said fiercely, stepping forward, voice lowering. "You have feelings for him and didn't want him hurt. What's my reason for not letting this whole thing stay in the past?"

She breathed out. "I have...feelings for him. Stray feelings that I regret but oh god, does the heart want what it wants and no, Miss Clancy, it's not time for me to start dating again." She breathed in, her gaze icy. "Just because he's forgotten doesn't mean that I have."

The moment was gone. Mackenzie, startled, took a step back and Neave reached out to take her arm, rubbing up and down for a second. "I'm sorry," she said. "You hit a sore spot I didn't even think I had anymore."

Mack stood in the lobby for a moment after Neave had left, holding her arms to herself. She wanted to find Scott.

She didn't want to be like Neave, still in love with a guy who'd been gone for ages...she had to try, especially because she'd seen the look in his eyes.

He hadn't liked being pushed away. And she knew that he had every reason to react like that. Was it fair of her to hold things back? Surely he had the right to decide if he could handle it or not. This wasn't how people who wanted...to keep people in their lives should act.

She sighed and walked into the bullpen, her gaze zeroing in on one desk.

It was empty.

She felt a hand land on her shoulder, turned around with such excitement, and then it was Ned, smiling at her. "Need a ride home, Kenz?" He asked, voice too sympathetic.

"Did Scott…" She couldn't even finish the question.

"He left," Ned said simply, and Mack nodded, dumbly following Ned out of the station.

She felt her stomach clench again, and ignored the pain.

It was far too early for Freya to be coming. This was just the stress.

Chase hopped down from the ladder when Scott got out of the car. He was such a...physical man, Scott reflected. Being an electrician, most of his job was field work. He wasn't bulky, but he had the build of someone who did hard work for a living and felt it.

Scott didn't like Chase.

This fact was foremost in his mind as he approached him.

"Oh, it's you," Chase said, pausing before he reached Scott. "I thought it was someone here on official police business but you'll be here about Mack."

"Yeah," Scott admitted, taking his sunglasses off. "Maybe you've seen this coming."

"It's how these trials work," Chase sighed. "Which I don't like but what can you do?" He bit his lip. "Will she need it? For me to be there, say those things?"

"It would help," Scott said. "Tell them just how much she'd never seduce her teacher. That you two were in a committed, healthy relationship. That she wasn't a party girl, never acted irresponsibly."

"I'd never call what we had healthy," Chase mumbled, his gaze far on the horizon, lost in a memory that Scott was glad he couldn't see. "Happy, once. Beautiful, maybe. But there was too much compromise and still never enough." He sighed. "We could never reach far enough."

Scott bit back a feeling of sympathy for Chase, for the fact that he, Scott, could very well be in the same position right now. The feeling that he could never reach Mack was rising, the fear that he'd never be able to actually rescue her was choking him.

Because she had to rescue herself, yes.

But she had to let him in.

She had to fucking let him in if their relationship, if whatever this thing was between them, was to grow fruit.

And he wanted it to grow. He wanted forever with Mackenzie Clancy.

But it still seemed like any sort of ever was something that she wasn't willing or able to give.

It was the end of a long day. Jim got home just as Ned's work car pulled into the driveway, and he raised an eyebrow; another one when Ned helped Mack out of the front seat.

"What's happening here?" He questioned, hurrying over to his daughter out of instinct, holding out an arm for her to take.

Which she did, leaning on him a little more than her independence usually allowed.

"Hi, daddy," she whispered, and he was also surprised at the vulnerability in her words.

What had happened?

He knew about the summons; Mackenzie had fought hard to go to the station alone, and he and Melinda had let her because...well...it's not like they could make that decision for her anymore. And them accompanying her before had technically been her letting them go.

So.

They'd stayed back. Melinda had worried and here Ned was and so things hadn't gone well.

Jim hated this situation so much.

"What happened today?"

"It was fine," Mackenzie said briefly, succinctly. "Neave was there, she batted off Preston's lawyers like they were flies and it was kind of amazing to watch. If it had been a TV show...I would have been so impressed. As it was, I was still a little stunned." She bit her lip. "To hear those words come off of anyone's lips...and he wasn't pulling punches…"

Jim didn't like how she'd devolved into vague terms, obviously wanting to hide things now; forget them. Damn it.

"And Scott...wasn't there," she finished. "And...I'd wanted him to be."

"Well, he must have been busy," Jim said, looking at Ned, and meeting Ned's gaze. Ned just shrugged, glancing away.

No.

Scott had been Mack's constant. Jim had a brief moment of fear that Scott wasn't all in anymore; and then he looked at Mack, remembered just how hard she'd been pushing people away lately.

No.

There was no way she could push that hard that Scott would actually leave. Was there?

"I have to go, Katie is holding dinner," Ned said. "I hope you feel better, Mack. Tell your dad about those pains."

"What?" Jim asked, as soon as Ned was gone, jogging down the steps.

"It's nothing," Mackenzie said, rolling her eyes. "It's just Brandon Hicks or whatever."

"Braxton," Jim said, correcting it without even thinking about it. "We should still take a look."

"I don't want to," Mack said. "I want to go to bed and maybe eat ice cream. It wasn't...it wasn't a good day. Not even because of the summons. It just...I got out of bed the wrong side, you know? It just sucked."

"I'm sorry," Jim said, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her forehead as they opened the front door.

Melinda was already walking towards it, perhaps had seen them through the windows and had grown impatient of puzzling out why they weren't inside yet. "Hey," she greeted, pulling Mack, stomach and all, into a hug before kissing Jim hello.

He kissed her hello back, feeling like he could tell how her day had been just from how it was; tired, definitely not as passionate as usual, but actively seeking a little more comfort than normal, lingering in the embrace, taking more from his arms than his lips.

He could read his wife like a book.

If only reading his daughter was as easy.

He was always the last man in the station.

Granted, the station was just big enough that it was never empty, but of the officers on days, Chief Joshua LeTrai was always the last one to leave.

Something he was thankful for when the door outside opened and he glanced up, expecting to see a harried and impatient father towing his kid in, and instead it was his wife.

Alice.

He'd never thought he'd had a wife, he reflected. He'd always expected to be the permanent bachelor, but here she was, soft and luscious, her curvy body dressed in that light blue sweater he loved, and the fitted black skirt that made his mind go to dangerous places.

She always dressed so nicely for work. It was one of the reasons that he'd fallen for her in the first place; not because of the clothes, per se, but because of the type of woman you had to be to still wear them in this day and age.

He liked old souls.

They didn't even say hello; Josh was pulling her into his arms, holding her close, feeling her heartbeat press against his chest, and splaying his hands over her back.

"Bad day?" Alice was asking, tilting her head up. Her lips were plump, her eyes were sympathetic.

"Long," he whispered. "Really fucking long."

He lowered his mouth to hers, loving this moment when they finally tasted each other after, what, at least twelve hours of being apart.

She tasted like strawberries.

What on earth had she been eating?

His arms were pulling tighter, and he moaned as her teeth nipped at his lower lip.

He wanted her so badly. He wanted to erase this day from memory and goddammit, his office was right there. He had no reason to wait.

And then the door banged open, and he felt Alice trying to jump away from him; she didn't like PDA, she was shy.

He held on; he let them part, but slowly, not letting himself be ashamed of kissing his wife in the station.

And it was Scott, looking slightly downcast.

"Hey, where did you go?" Josh asked. "I feel like Ned and Mack were looking for you."

Scott's gaze was a bit distant; so much so that Josh felt uncomfortable. He hadn't seen Scott like that since the days after that bank shooting that had ended so badly.

"Isn't that the thing?" Scott said softly. "She's always looking. Even though she's found it."

He walked past into the bullpen, effectively ending the conversation.

And Josh? He heaved a sigh, took his wife's arm and led her from the station.

They'd make love at home.