In this chapter we are back with Nancy/Frank. I hope everyone enjoys!
FBI offices, Chicago, 7.20 a.m., Tuesday 7th April
Wind whistled in her ears, the air icy cold as Nancy walked briskly up the steps of the FBI offices, desperate for refuge from the bitter cold. Spring's optimistic beginnings had been all too short-lived, as April brought heavy snowfalls and temperatures plummeted to all time-record lows, raining misery to all of Chicago. The roads were a mess and traffic was hell, schools and other public services closed as the city council attempted to deal with this temporary crisis.
Pushing through the glass plated double doors, Nancy sighed in relief as she felt the rush of warm air on her face. Carefully unwinding her snow dampened scarf from around her neck, she shrugged out of her coat before collapsing gratefully at her desk, already eagerly anticipating her usual morning coffee. Sifting through papers, Nancy took a minute to appreciate the relative peace and quiet of the office. Any person unlucky enough to have to commute from the vast network of suburbs that surrounded Chicago was more often or not late as the deteriorating conditions of the roads hampered every journey.
"I'm still waiting on those reports to send over to the BAU, Drew," Derek Johnson barked out sharply from behind her. Nancy turned to find the older man eyeing her impatiently.
"So, no good morning then," Nancy teased lightly, not entirely certain it was the right approach to take with the man given his obvious bad humor.
Though the dreadful weather conditions had ground Chicago to a halt, it was obviously no deterrent to the so-called Riverside serial killer. Two bodies had been found the previous day in a house in a neighborhood across town. Riverside was no longer the killer's hunting ground, his activities no doubt hindered by the highly concentrated police presence and constant media coverage. The victims, two teenaged girls, had been taking full advantage of their parents' annual trip to Hawaii and were in the throes of preparing for a party for their high school friends. The first of the guests arrived just after eight o' clock, expecting scantily clad girls and spiked punch, but instead found the bodies of their friends sprawled across the bed of the master suite, their blood splattered wildly across the walls. The team had remained at the crime scene until well after midnight and Nancy consequently was exhausted, the countless sleepless nights finally taking their toll.
"You'll get your good morning when I get those reports," he barked in reply, giving his watch a cursory glance before returning his attention to Nancy. Derek wasn't evidently faring well with the sleep deprivation either, and as he stalked towards his desk, Nancy made a mental note to stay out of his way, given his mood
Coffee, Nancy decided, and quickly, as she carefully spread photographs from the crime scene across her desk. The images were as grisly as they were shocking, the bed linen streaked red, the girls' ripped and bloodied party dresses torn from their bodies and rehung freakishly in their closet.
The media were having a field day with the recent turn of events, the killer compared from everyone from the Zodiac to Jack the Ripper, their station ratings skyrocketing as the body count rose. Predictably, the FBI and the Chicago PD were slated for interviews during the news reports, politicians and local representatives demanding to know why the killer wasn't apprehended already. The truth was that the so-called Riverside killer wasn't going to be easy to catch: investigators suspected that he had shaved all his body hair off and wore latex gloves in an attempt to prevent any physical evidence from being uncovered at a crime scene. Ironically, in his determination to withhold information from investigators, the killer provided his own clues to the FBI. The killer had to have a previous record; his reluctance to leave physical evidence meant the discovery of a strand of hair or a fingerprint would result in a direct hit with VICAP. The initial concentration of attacks on Riverside suggested that the killer had links of some sort with the wealthy suburb; whether they be of a scorned lover, former resident or perhaps a bullied high school student, the FBI had yet to uncover.
Yawning wearily, Nancy gathered the photographs together in a neat pile for further examination when her head wasn't as fuzzy and her eyes weren't threatening to close at any given minute. Pregnancy was exhausting; the sheer effort of showering and dressing in the morning left Nancy ready for another nap. As of yet, nobody knew of Nancy's condition. Frank's frequent absence and Nancy's preoccupation with the case made it easy for her to dismiss the pregnancy as something she could deal with later. Her morning sickness had mercifully passed and though the doctor had declared her almost four months pregnant, Nancy displayed none of the signs of it, a hectic work schedule keeping her slim figure in shape. Stripped down to her underwear, though, her pregnancy was a little more obvious, and Nancy knew she would have to tell Frank tonight. His case involving tracking down drug smugglers off the coast had finally come to a close the previous day and Frank was due home on an evening flight. Despite her reservations about sharing the news of her pregnancy with Frank, Nancy was glad. Other than the odd snatched weekend that he had managed to catch a flight into Chicago, Nancy hadn't spent any real time with Frank in ages and the house had seemed cold and empty in his absence.
Sipping her coffee absently, Nancy wondered how Frank would react when he learned of his impending fatherhood. Though Nancy and Frank had spoken often about their future, making vague references to the possibility of marriage, the notion of having children had never once even been considered; hardly surprising, considering the unpredictable nature of their jobs in the FBI. Having a baby would inevitably lead to one of them putting their career temporarily on hold, and since neither Frank nor Nancy were willing to sacrifice their jobs in the FBI, the conversation was never really up for discussion. Now they would have no choice, she thought grimly, draining the end of her coffee down, feeling immediately guilty for having, yet again, ignored another doctor's warning.
--
Snow was falling heavily as Nancy negotiated the short twenty minute walk from the office to her house, snowflakes immediately settling over her freshly trodden footprints and completely covering all trace of her movements in seconds. Shivering into the warmth of her heavy wool coat, Nancy quickened her pace as she eagerly anticipated her planned pasta dinner, imagining a hot shower while the food bubbled invitingly in the oven.
Though it wasn't quite six o' clock, the sky was already impossibly dark and Nancy couldn't help feel a little nervous as she ventured through a particularly isolated stretch of town. Lined with bars and restaurants, the street came alive on Saturday night, the place teeming with scantily clad women and drunk men all vying for a spot in the latest, hottest club. But now, on a Monday night, it was virtually deserted, iron grates and shutters pulled over doors, giving the street the appearance of a ghost town. Wandering through the darkness, images of the teens' bloodied bodies flashed through her head and Nancy practically ran the remaining distance home, her key ready in her hand to slot into the door.
"Frank, I'm home," Nancy called out in relief, happily spotting his coat slung untidily over the banister of the stairs. "Where are you?"
The steady hum of the shower provided her with that answer and Nancy wandered into the kitchen, eager to get a start on dinner. Slotting one of Hannah's much coveted lasagnas into the oven, Nancy's brain raced into overdrive as she mentally rehearsed how exactly she would break the news to Frank.
Tell him immediately, a part of Nancy sang out insistently, as she methodically sliced through tomatoes for a salad. He might be shocked, even angry at first but there can be no more delaying this. He was going to find out later, anyway.
Wait until tonight, the more appealing option echoed deviously in her head. Nancy was not able to even imagine how Frank was going to take the news. Both worked grueling hours in an often dangerous job and there couldn't be a worse possible time for them to have a baby. It wouldn't be fair to drop the baby bombshell on top of him like this, something inside of Nancy insisted convincingly as she distractedly mixed the salad. Wait until he's had a few drinks, loosened up after his trip and then tell him. Her decision made, Nancy forced herself to relax as she heard Frank shut off the water and step out of the shower, the sound of his footsteps echoing overhead.
"I thought I smelled something good," Frank murmured appreciatively as he wandered into the kitchen and grabbed Nancy in a deep, comfortable hug.
"I hope you mean me and not the food," Nancy teased jokingly as she returned his hug eagerly, realizing how much she missed him as his lips met hers in a long passionate kiss.
"Of course I meant you, babe," he replied with a sly wink, holding her close for a final hug before grabbing her hand and leading Nancy to the table, taking a seat and pulling her down playfully on top of him.
"I've missed you, so much," Frank declared longingly, his fingers entangled in her hair as he kissed her deeply.
Her arms twined around Frank's neck, Nancy returned his kiss eagerly before tilting her head up at him and gazing at him adoringly. "I've missed you too and I'm so glad you're home," she murmured, resting her head comfortably on his shoulder. "Promise me the next time you won't stay away so long,"
"Promise," Frank replied distractedly as he pulled her closer, his eyes sweeping over her appreciatively. "You look so beautiful, Nan," he whispered urgently, as his fingers deftly unbuttoned her shirt, Nancy moaning in pleasure as he trailed kisses down her neck.
They never made it upstairs.
Afterwards, half-dressed in Frank's shirt and her underwear, Nancy sat on his lap as they shared a plate of the now-dried lasagna.
"I knew there was a reason I missed you," Frank teased her jokingly as he spooned a heaped fork of pasta into her mouth.
"My cooking?" Nancy asked him sweetly, laughing as Frank tickled her in retaliation.
"Nancy, I've suffered your cooking enough times to know that this is most definitely Hannah's handiwork," Frank replied with a laugh, shaking his head knowingly. "And you know, that's not what I meant. How about we grab a bottle of wine, head upstairs and spend the rest of the evening getting reacquainted," he suggested, taking her hand in his and pulling her up gently. "I feel like I haven't talked properly to you in ages and I'm dying to hear all about your case."
"Frank, you know damn well what will happen if we go upstairs." Nancy laughed, rolling her eyes a little as he pulled her up into his arms. "We certainly won't get any talking done."
"And what would be the problem with that?" Frank asked teasingly as he pressed his lips lovingly to hers.
"Absolutely nothing," Nancy agreed with a smile as Frank took her hand warmly in hers and led her up the stairs.
--
Later, lying in the dark, Frank trailed his hand idly over Nancy's bare skin, Nancy relishing in the softness of his touch. The window was open, the room icy cold and Nancy curled closer into the warmth of his body, smiling when his lips found hers in the dark.
"I love you, so much, Nancy," he whispered, the tone of his voice so endearingly sincere.
He was always so gentle, so loving, the perfect boyfriend, and Nancy suddenly didn't know why she had kept her pregnancy a secret for so long. Frank would understand, she was sure of it.
Turning over on her side, Nancy rested her head on her forearm, her blue eyes gazing into his through the darkness.
"Are you okay, Nan?" he asked in concern, reaching out and smoothing a hand gently over her hair.
"I'm fine," Nancy smiled, swallowing her fear as she placed her hand over his. "It's just, I have something to tell you."
The sound of her phone ringing was a sudden unwelcome intrusion into the privacy of the moment.
"Shit, I have to take this," Nancy sighed, seeing the familiar number illuminated on her phone.
"Drew, we need you down here, right now," Derek's voice sounded cheerlessly in her ear as Nancy pulled herself up in the bed and turned on the bedside light. "We have a lead on the Riverside case."
Startled to wakefulness by the news, Nancy hopped off the bed, pulling on her clothes hastily as Frank gazed at her, bemused.
"I guess that thing you need to tell me can wait until later?" he smiled, grabbing Nancy close for a quick kiss as she clumsily buttoned her shirt.
"We'll talk later, I promise," Nancy sighed, dragging a brush through her long hair before running out the door.