I do not own standoff.

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"What's the damage?"

"No clue; he's still in surgery."

"Is Frank coming?" Emily whispered to her boss.

"Him and Matt. They're on their way," Cheryl replied.

Nothing more was said, and silence echoed throughout the waiting room. The monotonous tick-tock of the clock on the wall opposite of them was the only thing disturbing the silence. There would have been more action, as waiting rooms normally were. However, this was not the case as it was drawing close to midnight. Occasionally, one or two people would enter the hospital, only to walk right out after a brief visit with the night receptionist. Her rules were clear: No visitors after nine.

But that didn't pose as a threat to the head of CNU.

Thirty more minutes passed before Frank came bursting in, Matt not too far behind. Both men were soaked to the bone and water was dripping from their clothes; obviously the rain still hadn't let up. It was Frank that spoke first.

"Where is he? Who shot him? When I get my hands on the son of a bitch that-"

"Easy, big guy. The doctors are still working on him, he should be out soon," Emily said, trying to calm him. It didn't help. The receptionist glared at both men before promptly asking, "May I help you?"

"They're with us," Cheryl said coolly, taking Frank by the arm and forcing him in the seat next to her. Emily did the same with Matt on the opposite side of them.

"God, you're soaking. Didn't the two of you park closer?" Emily asked as Matt rung out his jacket, trying and failing to avoid the water drops.

"Wanted to, but G.I. Joe here wanted the first available spot, and luckily for us, it was about twenty feet from the entrance," Matt said darkly.

"Sorry for feeling concerned for a friend," Frank snapped.

"Stop it!" shrieked Lia, speaking for the first time. When nobody spoke she said quietly, "You two are always fighting, can't you cut it out for once?" She asked looking between both men.

"Sorry," muttered Matt.

"Yeah," agreed Frank mutually.

Seconds turned into minutes which ticked away into hours. Finally, just as Emily was dozing off on Matt's shoulder, a doctor came out. He explained Duff's injuries, the bullets in his thigh and hand and his slight concussion. Since it was closing in on one o'clock, visiting him was out of order. Besides, he wouldn't be awake until later in the morning, according to the doctor.

"He should be able to leave after a week or so, just enough time to recuperate. Then I want him to take some time off at work for his injuries to heal," the doctor explained.

"Thank you, Dr. Cox. For being so patient," Cheryl expressed her gratitude. The others nodded behind her, in thanks.

"You shouldn't thank me. Thank Mona. Visitors who are wise clear out of here after eight thirty. You don't want to face her wrath," he said seriously.

Matt snorted. Cheryl could probably have that old cow down for the count.

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News traveled like wild fire around the office about Duff and the Mentira murder. How it got around so fast, Matt would never know, but by nine o'clock, it was the news of the day. Everyone was asking the same questions:

Who shot Duff?

More importantly, who killed Carlos Mentira?

And Matt was dying for the answers.

So when Cheryl dragged him in her office the moment, he was half expecting for her to know the answers. But of course, Cheryl was not a miracle worker.

"Flannery- where's Lehman?" she asked abruptly, noticing his partners' absence.

"She stayed at home, wasn't feeling well." It was true. Emily called and asked him to call in sick for her, due to the fact that she couldn't stay on her feet for more than five minutes.

"Okay," Cheryl said slowly, debating on whether he was telling the truth; Matt was a notorious liar. "Anyway, since we're on that subject, I don't want you to go over there anymore-"

"What?!" Matt cut her off.

"At least not without Frank driving there with you. He can wait in the car for all I care. This is getting serious, Matt. Only two of you on that list are left alive, and I am not taking any chances. In fact, it would be better if you stopped going over there altogether. I want you here at seven thirty in the morning- yes, Matt seven thirty A.M. - and you won't leave until after Frank's last training class." Cheryl told him firmly.

Matt stood there and stared at her, taking all of this in. God, Frank torturing him about his relationship with Emily was more than he could bear; now he couldn't go over to her place without him tagging along for the ride?

"Listen," she leaned forward and spoke softly, "This is coming from not only your boss, but your friend. I don't want to lose you, both as an agent and as my former partner. I can barely handle Duff in the hospital, let alone your funeral. So go on," boss mode again, "As I recall, you still haven't finished your share of paperwork on that Moreno case."

She smiled at Matt's groan.

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Her headache ceased for a moment, so Emily was allowed for one trip to the bathroom. She chose it for two reasons: One, it was closer. Two, it had a toilet, and a toilet was what she needed more than anything right now.

So, without further hesitation, she carefully got out of bed, nearly losing her footing for a second, and used the wall to support her way to the bathroom. Once there, she looked herself in the mirror and took in the image. Her hair was shaggy like a mop, her face was pale as paper, and she couldn't open her eyes beyond a squint. In other words, she looked like hell.

"Ugh," she winced as pain flashed through her head. Why was this happening? Just last night she felt good as new. Now however…

Her thoughts were interrupted as she felt something rise up her throat. Quickly she turned to the toilet and filled it with the contents of her stomach.

After ten minutes, Emily forced herself to her feet and wiped her mouth with a towel. Now she was throwing up, what was that all about? Emily rinsed her mouth with mouthwash when something struck her. As fast as her lethargic legs would allow, she hurried to her nightstand and pulled from the drawer a pink pill box. She was hoping that there were only five pills inside. But she was proved wrong when she counted six.

Emily wanted to slap herself. She remembered three weeks ago; when she and Matt took that weekend off to drive to the beach. The weather was lovely, and she and Matt had the whole weekend to themselves. Nothing but the sun and sand. And, of course, their small room right next to the beach…

She grabbed the phone and dialed Lia's cell number. Finally, after a few rings, Lia picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lia? Could you do me a favor...?"

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Matt threw the file to the side. Finished at last.

He stretched his arms and stood to get some coffee from the break room. Last night had really done a number on him. Instead of the usual six to seven hours he got, he got about three hours of sleep last night. It wasn't because they didn't get home really late; he and Frank got in at about one thirty.

No, his mind kept him awake last night. Thoughts of Duff in surgery and of yet another murder haunted his dreams. Every time he dozed off, a gunshot went off in his head, and he woke up.

Matt was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Lia right in front of him. The two collided instantly, and Lia's papers went flying everywhere.

"Oh, jeez, Lia. I'm so sorry," Matt bumbled as he picked up stray papers. "Cheryl's right, I really can be blind sometimes…"

"Don't worry about it," Lia said. She grabbed the papers out of his hand, shoved them into a cream colored file, and nearly sprinted to the elevator, leaving Matt where he was.

Matt felt bad. Obviously she was completely upset about Duff, the two were getting close. He ran after her, feeling the need to apologize, and caught her just before the elevator doors shut.

"Hey, Lia. Are you okay? You've been acting really depressed since last night, and I'm really sorry for me and Frank fighting like that. I mean, clearly there were more important things to worry about-"

"Matt, I'm fine. Really," Lia cut him off. "Thanks for being understanding. But right now Em- I mean my sister just called and I have to go. This is a real emergency. Thanks again!" she pushed the button to make the doors close and frantically smiled at him.

Matt stared at the shiny silver doors.

Since when did Lia have a sister?

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"Okay, so do you want to pee in a cup or on a stick?"

"Lia!" Emily hissed. She glanced around her, making sure no one was watching. "I really don't want to announce this to the public."

"Hey, you only have a fifty percent chance of being pregnant," Lia said.

"We didn't use protection," Emily argued, blushing.

"Well, then a ninety nine point nine percent. But hey, these things have been known to be faulty," Lia said hopefully.

"Then we'll buy five," Emily said, grabbing four more of the cup tests. She quickly paid for them, then grabbed Lia and pulled her to the bathroom, nearly knocking some poor old lady over in the process.

Lia waited outside while Emily did her business, then Emily pulled her into the bathroom. While waiting for the tests to finish, Emily paced around the bathroom, glancing at the cups on the sink every now and then. After five minutes were up, they checked the results.

"You read them, please," Emily said, wringing her hands. Lia complied and grabbed the first cup.

"Okay, this one says you're not pregnant," she said. Relief flooded throughout Emily, but there were still four more tests.

Lia checked the others. Her expression became more worrisome with each test. "The rest of these say you're…pregnant," she said quietly. Emily buried her head in her hands and leaned against the wall.

Lia put an arm around her. "Hey there could be a mistake-"

"Four out of five, Lia." She looked at her friend. "What am I going to do?" she asked.

Lia didn't answer.

The women disposed of the pregnancy tests and left in silence.

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She recognized that woman, the skinny one with reddish-brown hair.

She watched both women leave with solemn looks on their faces. Clearly they were upset about something. But she couldn't remember who she was. She just couldn't put her tongue on it… Her memory betrayed her as the ladies drove away.

She hated it when these things happened. Back in the old days, she could recognize anyone anywhere, all it took was a face and a connection. But alas, time and age had caught up with her, and she now had to rely on others to help her with her slight memory problem.

They had been looking at the pregnancy tests; and by judging the looks on their faces, one of them was expecting. She had been around enough girls in her lifetime to recognize these things. The father's reaction was always humorous to imagine.

Then it struck her like lightening. She had seen that specific woman with Matthew Flannery.

The last on the List.

She loved it when she could kill two birds with one stone…

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First of all, I am so sorry for getting this up so late. Thanks to all who R&R last chapter.

School, unfortunately, has to come first. And lucky me got a lot of homework this week. For all the authors out there who are still in school, which is the majority of you, you understand where I'm coming from.

I will update sooner, I promise. There's going to be A LOT next chapter, to make up for the lacking of action in this chapter. So, bear with me, that's all I ask.

Oh, and that reminds me.

JUNE?!?! WHAT THE FREAK?!?!

I really hate Fox right now. In my opinion, I think Standoff, if not already, will be cancelled. Now, I'm sad…