Ok so I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, I wanted to see how some of these recent episodes played out because I wanted do some missing scenes too, as well as see how these dates work. It's so confusing trying to figure out what year it is. Thank you, Josh, for screwing that up so much and thanks for reading now anyway!

Ch 2: Speed's the Key

August, 1987; Berkeley, California

She threaded her slender polished fingers with his rough and scabby hands. Surprisingly, through the toughness, she could feel the soft touch she relished in while he held her close. This, by far, was the best time in their relationship. The calm after the storm-- or rather, make up sex (not that that was particularly calm). Neither would ever swallow their pride enough to admit they were too scared to leave, admit how much they missed each other, even after a fight-- even after a stupid fight. Instead, they let the kisses talk. The close proximity in which they were of each other screamed "I'm sorry" and "I love you more than you drive me up the wall."

Kirsten was humming that melody that he always hummed-- her version a little off-key, but the bright drone of her voice was still pleasant to his ears.

"Kirsten?" He could tell she was starting to doze off.

"Hmmm?" She was half asleep.

"I've been thinking." Sandy took a deep breath.
"Mmmyeah?" She was still half asleep.

"I love you. And I'm gonna love you forever. So that basically screws my chances with anyone else. But I really don't think I'm ever going to want anyone else. So that leaves me with you. This, really, is the best possible scenario. And, I just figured maybe-- I mean you don't have to say yes or anything-- well you kind of do, but only if you want to. Anyway, do you want to get married?" He was so nervous.

"Are you serious?" Now she was awake.

"Yeah. I mean yes." Kirsten sat up and faced him. His hands quivered with anticipation and anxiety. What if she said no? His entire world would be shot to nothing.

"Then yes. Of course I want to get married!" she leaned in and kissed him hard on the mouth, pushing him over and back into a compromising position. He searched for her left hand and found her ring finger, stroking the soft skin, knowing it wouldn't be bare for long. He even had a little plastic one in the drawer next to him, but that would be for later…

"Sandy?" It was his turn to be half asleep. They were not any further apart than they had been before round two, after his proposal and her acceptance. Kirsten admired the crappy little plastic ring Sandy had won for her. It wasn't really about the ring; it was how her finger looked with something on it-- something Sandy had given her.

"Hmph?"
"Are you awake?"

"No."

"Stop it." she slapped him playfully and he opened his eyes widely.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just can't fall asleep…" Sandy thought he saw a seductive glint in her eye.

"Well, did you want to…?" he laughed back.

"No… I just wanted to talk." she lay down on his chest again, shutting her eyes, and Sandy rolled his eyes, unbeknownst to Kirsten. "I was just thinking…I've never been this happy in my entire life-- I don't think I'm ever going to be this happy again." She looked up at him, and Sandy leaned down to kiss her. "I love you." she whispered.

"I love you too." His voice was deep and it rumbled.

"Now let's talk about this wedding." her voice took on the excitement of about ten cheerleaders. (But beware, cheerleaders can be aggressive. B-E aggressive!)

"Okay, sweetheart." Suddenly her pleasant chatter about wedding dresses, dates and linens filled his ears. He pulled her closer and kissed her hair, trying to lull her to sleep.

Groundhog Day, 2007; Newport Beach, California

"So Bullit and Julie again, huh?" Sandy asked in disbelief as he led his wife up the stairs to their master bedroom. Kirsten chuckled.

"I realize that Julie Cooper has been with quite a few tools in her time, but now she's gone straight for a weapon?" Sandy smirked at her, thinking of Caleb and Jimmy--two men in Julie's life that have had way more impact on his own wife's life than need be. Look at it this way, their marriage is much better off without them in her life. They are both gone, and she's pregnant. Proof pudding. She continued, "The woman never ceases to amaze me. Kaitlin seems to like him though, and I guess that's really what matters to her, or it should. After all these years, I think she's finally figuring it out. Being a parent means your kids come first. And in her case, Kaitlin's really all she's got. " Kirsten shut the door behind her, and Sandy turned to meet her.

"She's got you…"

"Who knows how long that will last… this week…" Kirsten retorted exhaustedly. Sandy laughed softly. "What? I'm serious. Kaitlin's her family. Family comes first." Kirsten wrapped her arms around his midsection.

"I'm so excited about this baby, honey." Not able to contain a smile, he stole a quick kiss.

"Good, because if you weren't I would be miserable." She nuzzled her head into his neck.

"Do you remember when you told me you were pregnant with Seth?" He took her hands from behind his back and linked her fingers with his.

"How could I forget?" she laughed. "I was so mad at you; I didn't think I was ever going to speak to you again. I was just about ready to fly back to Newport and find Jimmy to help me raise him." Sandy looked nauseas at the thought of Jimmy and Kirsten raising Seth. Kirsten laughed at him. "I'm kidding. But I was mad at you, Mr. 'Oh.' For the record, your response was better this time."

"Not funny." Sandy shook his head and took her left hand, stroking her wedding finger. She looked up at him adoringly.

"Well I guess there's only room for one joker here, isn't there?"

"You betcha." He pulled her a little closer. She kissed him quickly.

"Did you ever think we would end up here?" Kirsten asked, smiling. Sandy now held his arms around her.

"Here where? Married and this happy, or you pregnant now?"

"The first one." Her blue eyes sparkled.
"I only dreamed about it…" His sappy answer won him a kiss, and another. He started to pursue the act of removing her shirt.

"Don't push your luck, Mr. Cohen. I know you wouldn't dare take advantage of a hormonally-challenged woman…"

"I wouldn't exactly call it taking advantage of, Mrs. Cohen. You're twice as guilty."

December 1987; Berkeley, California

Kirsten Nichol entered the small Berkeley apartment with her arms full of rolled up papers, swatches of materials, and several large three-ring binders in addition to her art history textbooks. Propping the door open with her foot, she turned around, spinning herself inside to where Sandy sat amusedly on the couch as his lovely fiancée juggled her various items.

As much as he loved his beautiful bride-to-be, he secretly dreaded her arrival home on account of the extreme tediousness that would accompany their company for the next few hours: linen swatches.

They were right when they told him in the Man-uel that all shades of beige are really just tools to drive men crazy. This was definitely not his ideal way of spending the evening with his so-called lover. There hadn't been much lovin' lately. Kirsten was very busy with her internship at the art gallery in Sausalito, as was Sandy with his new job at the P.D.'s office. When night came, it had become less and less often that they would have time for 'quality time.' With the wedding approaching quickly, Kirsten had her hands full with plans, (literally) and they were going to Newport for Christmas before they came back in the middle of January for the wedding. Kirsten had finals the second week of February, and during her semester break they would finally get to have their honeymoon.

Sandy was a bit worried about her; she had been kind of moody lately. He figured it was all just the mounting stress, but normally a night in bed with Sandy could cure that. She had been too tired for anything. Her kisses were chaste-- and that was when they were on the lips.

"Hey baby, how was work? Need a hand?" Sandy asked, his hand casually gesturing to all of her paraphernalia.

"Yeah, here, hold this." Kirsten sighed, handing him several binders, the material books, the rolls of paper, and her textbooks. When she was done, Kirsten was left with just her purse. Sandy rolled his eyes at this, while she led her way to the kitchen, kicking off her shoes and sitting down at the table.

"Where do you want all of this junk?" Sandy started to put it all down on the table in front of her, not wanting to hold it anymore, but Kirsten objected, standing quickly.

"ITS NOT JUNK, Sandy, OKAY?" her volume diminished, but the tone did not. "I have been on my feet all day, while you have been watching the stupid Yankees game--"

"Kirsten, baseball season is over."

"Whatever."

"I'll give you three seconds to come up with a better comeback." he smiled.

"Shut up. Sandy stop it. You're being annoying. I hate it when you do this. I am trying to plan a wedding for the two of us, and you say you want to help so I don't get stressed out, but when I ask for you to help me look at linens or silverware and centerpieces, all you do is say 'Sorry honey, the games on'n I gotta go to Paul's cus' there's a bet going.'" Her 'deep' mock-Sandy voice was awful, and he tried so hard not to laugh as she was on the verge of tears. "All I'm asking is for a little help, okay? I'm stressed about the wedding," she was starting to choke up. "And going to Newport," she had been doing a lot of that lately. "my boss is a controlling-art-psycho babbling-nit-wit, with everything going on the next month I have to take care of all my finals now-- and they are going terribly, and I come home in hopes that you will help me get some of this wedding crap done so I don't have to worry about it anymore and all you say is: 'where do you want this junk?' Wipe that smirk off your face." Her tone turned angry. "I hope you weren't getting any big ideas because obviously I am NOT in the mood. Are you QUITE finished laughing at me?" Kirsten was practically panting as Sandy laughed at her and pulled her closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder, shutting her eyes and trying to relax.

"Kirsten?" After he pulled her close, he wasn't met with the familiar Kirsten-y smell of something fruity mixed with the smell of a cold, luscious lipstick. She smelled weird today. He hoped she hadn't changed perfumes. He liked the old one. Then he figured out what it was.

"What." she didn't lift her head.

"Did you throw up?"

"Well that's just what every girl wants to hear. You smell like puke. Love you too, Sandy." she spat.

"Well, I was just wondering, I didn't mean it like that."

"Yes, okay, I got sick-- but I'm fine."
"Why? Did you eat something bad?" He pulled her back to an arms length away, holding her hands.

"No… I don't think so. I think I must just have a 24-hour bug or something. I'm fine, really." She didn't tell him about the OTC pregnancy tests that were hidden in her purse. She had already taken them, but had yet to read the results.

"Maybe we should just skip the whole wedding plan thing for tonight and just get you into bed? Get a couple extra hours of sleep before tomorrow?" he tried to persuade, not that he succeeded.

"Nice try. You just want me in bed. I'll give you a brownie point for your concern, though." She let go of his hands, and sat down in a chair, opening the material book and pointing to the chair next to her for Sandy to come look at linens.

"I'll take what I can get." He shrugged, sitting down next to Kirsten and feigning interest when needed as he attempted to get through this exercise as quickly as possible.

"And don't throw a fit."

"As you wish."

Kirsten had been worrying about the 'pee swabs' that were sitting in her purse all afternoon. She bought the fourth test after the fourth time throwing up this week (after her nausea during the eight-thirty class and nearly skipping the ten o'clock lecture due to vomiting) thinking that she was pregnant. Yes, she was on birth control, but there's always the possibility that she could be pregnant.

And to be honest, she wasn't completely opposed to being pregnant-- she was getting married in a month to the man that she loved more than anything and probably would have had her pregnant within a year anyway. It was just that right now, everything was happening at once, and telling Sandy and her parents about all of this could not be good for finding a way to get unstressed. In a month and a half, all of that would be past her, and plus, being pregnant now was nothing like being pregnant the first time.

She was three years older now, and more than three years wiser. It seemed to her as if completely different things stimulated her now than had stimulated her then, and they had stimulated her in a completely different way. That was why during this time of 'transition' a year had passed since the downfall of her relationship with Jimmy (the pregnancy) and she hadn't been dating anyone seriously.

She found out she was pregnant the spring of her senior year, and did not tell a soul. She smiled as she received her diploma, as her picture was taken, as her relatives came to watch her graduate, but stayed to see the mansion. She smiled politely at the subsequent Newpsie functions, she squeezed Jimmy's hand when he held her, and drank like nobody's business when she cried. Enough was enough. She couldn't go through with this, and the letter sitting on her desk waiting to be sent back to Berkeley for her late acceptance was calling her name. She had started to consider it again when Jimmy had nearly tried to propose, and she had never felt such a lack of oxygen in her life.

She needed a fresh start; she needed a way out of Newport, Jimmy, and her father-- and into Berkeley. She received her freshman information packet and knew that this was her life now, and Jimmy just didn't fit into it. She needed to live her life on her terms and however selfish that was, it wasn't fair for her to have to live the rest of her life with this child and let Jimmy be as careless and reckless as possible. She knew for sure, however, that she was not going to marry him.

Secretly, she had always envied Jimmy. He fit in so perfectly there; everyone loved him. Kirsten felt ill at ease around those people, seasick. Jimmy belonged there. Kirsten didn't know where she belonged, but it sure was not there, and not with Jimmy. So she 'took care of it,' and all of a sudden announced she would attend Berkeley, much to her father's dismay.

Her nineteenth birthday had been a bunch of girls getting drunk and leaving Kirsten alone after while they all were hooking up with random guys. This was her 'cheer up party' after her mother called to tell her happy birthday, and her father would have but he forgot, not thinking twice of the date's significance as chose to be in Europe on business.

When she met Sandy, at the Halloween party shortly after her October birthday where she celebrated her twentieth, she did not immediately react to him as the type of person who, in short, could solve her miserable loneliness.

He was not, obviously, the type of person who she would react to at all. She was used to the Jimmy Coopers of the world, the Caleb Nichols and the Newpsies. They were the things that stimulated her to the point of utter frustration where she would pass out on vodka, alone. Nevertheless, she reacted to them.

At least, at first, Sandy gave her someone to drink with, and he always helped her clean up the mess the next day. He was there in the morning, and Kirsten, for the life of her, could not figure out why.

All of a sudden, they were more than fellow partiers in a crowd. They were hooking up in the back of his mail truck enjoying each other's company in the most anti-Newport of settings.

After a wonderful nine months as an exclusive couple, Kirsten was positive that Sandy was the one. After his proposal, she had known their relationship would have to conform to the long-term portraits of their lives: Kirsten's swank nobility and her adaptation to Sandy's inability to provide her with a life that would fit into that strange puzzle.

Christmas this year would be a bit different. The young couple would spend the holidays in Newport with Kirsten's parents, while taking care of things for the wedding which would be three weeks later. All of their families, the Newport group, Newpsies and friends from Berkeley would attend the seaside Newport chapel, for a small inter-faith ceremony, and a major party at the country club. Kirsten's mother had been planning for months, and as a major Newpsie figurehead and Caleb Nichol's wife, her daughter's wedding, even if it was to a young Jewish law student from the Bronx, was still one of the biggest social events of the year in the small coastal community--nearly topping cotillion.

Presently, she was tapping her foot nervously against the floor as she and Sandy looked at linen swatches. Sandy looked at her amusedly, wondering what was keeping her so tense. She looked like she was about to kill someone with a hacksaw.

"Kirsten?"

"WHAT NOW Sandy?"

"You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're tapping your foot and you have those spiky heels on again. I'm afraid my toes will soon be victims." Kirsten rolled her eyes at him, but she stopped tapping her foot. She moved on in her linen hunt.

"I'm gonna pee. Be right back." Kirsten said a few minutes later, suddenly.
"Fantastic." Sandy replied sarcastically. "I'll keep these linens here from getting too outta line." Kirsten grabbed her purse, and Sandy wondered why she needed it to go to the bathroom. There were always plenty of tampons in the cabinet. He hoped it was just that-- because it couldn't last that much longer…

Kirsten eyed herself in the mirror before taking the four boxes out of her bag.

Deep breath.

Test one: Positive.

Chest tightens.

Test two: Positive.

Two for two. Is that a good thing?

Test three: Positive.

Ok. This is for real.

Test four: Positive.

Yep.

Let that breath out.

Gasp for air.

Go tell Sandy.

Kirsten leant back against the door, shutting her eyes and placing her hand on her flat stomach. She looked down at her feet, seeing her red toe-polish. In a few months, she would hardly even be able to paint her own toes. Talk about restrictions…

"Sandy, I'm pregnant." It sounded so good when she said it in her head.

"Sandy, we're having a baby." It's not that hard.

"Umm, look, I know we're getting married in like a month, but I'm pregnant! Woohoo, how independent of us. Just in time for you to finish law school and find a job and I can finish undergrad." Shit.

Sandy saw the door handle turn and immediately resumed pretending to be interested in what he was supposed to be doing. He looked over at Kirsten, a wave of shock and disbelief pasted across her angular features.

"Did you forget to flush?" he asked ingenuously.

"Come here, I need to talk to you." Her eyes narrowed, taking in his features, planning her next statement.

"What's going on? Are you sure you're okay? Please tell me it's not cold feet."
"I'm positive I don't have cold feet. In fact, it's swollen feet." she forced a smile.

"Huh?" Kirsten flung herself onto the couch and patted the spot next to her, directing Sandy to sit. He complied as she offered him a hand. He still was not following.

"I know this is awkward timing, but I have some news."

"Okay…"

"Are you going to ask what it is?" she stalled.

"I thought you would just tell me." He was confused.

"Sandy, I'm pregnant." she looked at him intently.

"You-- you're what?" his voice squeaked a little.

"Pregnant."

"Pause or child?"

"Child."

"Oh." There was a moment of silence before Kirsten came to the realization that Sandy really did not want this baby. It was this part-- right here-- that had prevented her from telling Jimmy when this had happened before.

"What do you mean, 'oh'? This is half your fault too! And here I was, shocked, but happy, and I figured YOU would be the one person that would definitely be overjoyed, knowing that you're going to be a father. But I guess not."
"Baby-- Kirsten-- that's not it and you know it. I love you, and I am overjoyed, just shocked… we're seriously having a baby… oh my god… How far along are you?"
"I don't know. I think about seven weeks, but I haven't seen a doctor yet, just taken the test."

"So it could be wrong, then?"

"I took four."

"I see." Sandy nodded. Kirsten looked up; tears spilled out of her glassy eye. "Kirsten?"

"Yeah?" She hoped he would say something that would actually make her feel better.

"I can't believe we're having a baby!" He weeded his arms around her, trying to pull her closer. "I love you so much… come here… I want to hold my baby! Both of them." She smiled and scooted closer to him, crawling into his arms. He kissed her softly and she started to cry into his shoulder.

"What's wrong, honey?"

"I don't know…" she sobbed. Hormones. Finally, Sandy was no longer at a loss for words.

"Kirsten, you told me a few months ago that you were never again going to be that happy. I think I'm even happier right now. I'm having a kid. We are having a kid-- I am having a kid with you. A kid. I made a kid! With you…however crazy things are right now-- we're doing it together, because we're getting married, and we're starting a family. With this kid. And I don't think I could be any more excited about that." He kissed her hair, and she looked up at him with her glassy eyes again, and kissed him hard, on the mouth. Finally, Sandy thought. I've got her back.

Kirsten knew at that exact moment that she couldn't tell Sandy what happened to her the summer before she came to Berkeley. She couldn't scare him like that when he was finally so happy about this. This had the potential to train wreck the most important thing in her life: her soon-to-be marriage.

They tell us slow down,
We're too young; you need to grow
The speed's the key
And they don't know who we are


And who's to say that we're not good enough?
And who's to say that this is not our love?

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Haha, tag body spray. B-E aggressive. If you are a good person, you'll want what's best for me. Please review.