Kissing up, making up, hooking up (not in that order)
"Sometimes the system goes on the blink
and the whole thing turns out wrong.
You might not make it back and you know
that you could be well, oh, that strong
And I'm not wrong."
-Bad Day, Daniel Powter
As they sat there in the quiet, stillness of her office, with warm sun streaming through the window and bathing the room in soft light, Gus noted to herself that Samantha Ross was much more quiet than usual. Usually she was more outgoing and forth coming with talking, having come out of her shell remarkably since the beginning of their time together. Gus was impressed with how far Samantha had come, and was genuinely going to miss the young CSI. Sam was so friendly and at times brutally honest, yet she was complex and serious at the same time. And she had a great sense of humor. She was the type of girl that Gus would love to have as a friend. She seemed loyal and trustworthy. Two characteristics that mattered to Gus when it came to allowing anyone, male or female, into her life.
Gus sat back, calmly and patiently, giving Sam the time she needed to sort through all the thoughts in her head. Allowing her the time to come around gradually to open up about what was bothering her.
"I found out some bad news today." Sam eventually said, absentmindedly twirling her engagement ring around her finger. "It's kinda gotten me down."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Gus asked.
"It was one bad thing that led into a even bigger, worse thing and now I don't know how much damage it's caused or if I can fix it. I want to fix it. I have to fix it. Because I can't live without him and I can't do this alone. I need him. As pathetic as that probably. I need him and depend on him to make everything better."
"Detective Flack?"
Sam nodded. "We had a fight. Over some news we got. It should have been just a simple disagreement but it turned into a fight. I didn't want it to. But with us, it seems like simple disagreements always get blown out of proportion. And then I end up saying mean things without even realizing I said them. I don't want to hurt him. It's not my intention."
"What started the fight?" Gus asked. "You said you received bad news?"
"About the baby. And it's more like potentially bad news. My triple screen test came back and said that I have an increased chance of having a child with a chromosomal or genetic disorder. The doctor wants to run another blood test again in a month. Don and I agree on the blood work, but he's dead set against other, invasive testing."
"In an earlier appointment, you said that the two of you talked about something like this happening, and that both of you adamently agreed to having the baby regardless of whether or not it had problems or was perfectly healthy."
"I do want this baby. No matter what. I love this baby. Don and I made this baby together and it doesn't matter if it's perfect or not. But I like the idea of getting a definite answer so we can prepare and do research on whatever it is and be ready for it. But he thinks it's better to have the baby than risk loosing it through an amnio. And I understand where he's coming from. I do. And he has a right to feel that way. I mean, this is his baby, too. His first child. He's just as scared and nervous as I am. But I want him to see my point too."
"You don't think he does?" Gus asked.
"I don't know." Sam admitted. "Don's a my way or the highway kind of guy. He's very aggressive and domineering and he hates when someone disagrees with him."
Gus arched an eyebrow. "Almost a much as you hate it when someone disagrees with you?" she asked.
Sam frowned. "I never thought of it that way. I guess I do tend to get a little hostile when someone doesn't agree with me."
"A suggestion?" Gus said. "Take it or leave it. Sit down with him and the two of you write out the pros and cons of having the invasive testing done. Talk openly with each other. Ask each other how you're both feeling about the situation and how you'd both feel having a child with special needs. A 'normal', and I hate using that term, child changes your life drastically. A child with a disability even more so. Ask each other how that would feel, all the time and energy. Write it all down and see what the other person says. No arguing or disagreeing. Just listening. I think you'll both be surprised to see what the other says."
Sam nodded. "We can try that."
"Now last week, you told me you were feeling nervous and anxious about becoming a mother. That all of this sort of just jumped up and bit you in the behind so to speak. Let's expand on that. Tell me what you're nervous and anxious about?"
"I guess I'm worried because of the way I was raised, I won't be a good mother. My mom...I love her. Really, I do. She turned herself around when she met my step-dad. He was a real God send for her. And for us. But sometimes I'm still angry at her for not getting away from my real dad, for not protecting me and Adam."
"You can't change what happened. But you can make sure you never let yourself, or your chid, fall into the same trap. What is your relationship like now with your mother?"
"Pretty good. We walk on the phone, e-mail each other. She's a totally different person now and I love her and I'm proud of her."
"Could you talk to her about how your feeling? Tell her you need to get some things aired out?"
"I suppose. She's pretty open minded."
"It's normal, when you've gone through a traumatic event like you did as a child, to have some sort of apprehension to something. In your case, it's being a mother. But let's face it, hon, that baby can't stay inside of you forever. In five months time, that little baby will be out in this world and dependant on you, as its mommy. So you have to accept the fact that while you can't be a perfect mother, you can be a damn good one."
Sam smiled. "I'll try."
"You won't try." Gus said sternly. "You'll do it. Now I'll give you some phone numbers for some parental support groups. It might help to talk to women who once had the same feelings and reservations and came out on top. And I have some numbers for some female officers who've had children and found it difficult being off the job for so long."
Gus got up from her chair and went to her desk and grabbed a sheet of paper with telephone numbers written on it and re-joined Samantha. "You've come a long way," she said, "I'm very proud of you."
Sam stood up as well and took the offered paper and shook Gus' hand. "Thank you. For listening to me go on and on. And for helping me and making me feel so comfortable. I appreciate it. Am I free to go?"
"Free as a bird. You've fulfilled your eight weeks and I don't see a need to keep you here any longer."
"So maybe we could go for coffee sometime?" Sam asked, picking up her Kate Spade bag from the chair beside her and slinging it over her shoulder. "Hang out? Like friends?"
"We could try that." Gus said. "How about I give you a call and we set something up?"
"I'd like that." Sam smiled as they walked to the door. "Thanks again. For everything. Don may send you a thank you gift for making me less crazy."
"You were a great patient." Gus declared. "You had me a little worried there at first, but you came around nicely. I'll be sending a very impressive report to Chief Inspector Sinclair."
Adam jumped up from his seat as his sister, accompanied by a stunning Gus in a sleek black pin stripe business suit and a scarlet red blouse underneath, came through the door into the waiting room. He smiled at the gorgeous blond and felt his heart skip a beat and then begin to pound when she returned the smile with a soft one of her own. Sam noticed the little moment between the two. She was a woman after all. There'd been many times she'd smiled at a man in that exact same way. She was pretty sure, in fact, that she had used that smile on Flack months ago outside the crime lab. And it had worked wonders for her.
Maybe this is peanut's chance, Sam thought, and decided to help it along.
"I have to go and use ladies room down the hall." Sam announced. "And I need to make a couple phone calls. I'll meet you outside, Adam? I need some air."
"Uh...yeah..." he nervously agreed. "Sure..."
"Bye, Gus." Sam called as she headed for the door. "We'll talk soon."
"You can count on it." Gus returned, and watched as the pretty brunette disappeared out the door before turning back to Adam. "It's nice to see you, again," she said warmly. "How have you been?"
"Good. Adjusting to the thought of being an uncle. I'm pretty excited about it. At first, I was a little...I don't know...pissed that she had gotten pregnant so quickly and without being married. But I'm getting to know Flack better and I know he loves her and will treat her and the baby right. Take good care of them. So I'm warming up to the idea of it all."
"A baby is always a miracle." Gus declared. "A blessing. And Samantha seems very happy."
"She is. For the most part. Flack's good for her. And she's good for him. She keeps him in line. Tough work, but she manages. How have you been?"
"Good. Busy. Always busy."
"I was thinking," Adam raked a hand through his hair and built up the courage. "that maybe we could...I don't know...I was thinking maybe that I could...we could..."
Gus found Adam Ross appealing. In a dishevelled, frat boy kind of way. So unlike all the men she had ever been involved with in her lifetime. He had beautiful turquoise eyes and thick, unruly hair she longed to run her fingers through and full, lovely lips she wouldn't mind kissing.
God, she thought, feeling herself flush. What is wrong with me? She couldn't help but find his innocent, boyish way attractive. And what made him even more so, was all the glowing, wonderful things his older sister had said about him during her sessions.
Adam took a deep breath and composed himself. "I was thinking that we could go out sometime." he spit out. "To dinner."
Gus blinked. "Okay..."
"You said that you'd go out to dinner with me if my sister wasn't a patient anymore. And now she's not a patient. So maybe Friday I can pick you up? Say around seven?"
"That isn't..."
"Seven thirty?" he offered.
"Adam, I..."
He frowned and felt his heart sink. "Guess you don't want to have dinner with me after all. I...uh...I'm sorry...I better go and find my sister."
Gus watched as he headed for the door. "Wait!" she called. "Adam, please. Come back."
He took the few steps to rejoin her.
"I was just trying to say that I have plans I must keep for Friday." she told him. "You think we could do it another time? Maybe Saturday?"
A broad smile crossed his face. "I work, but I am off at at six." he said.
"I can meet you at the lab." she offered.
"Sure. You can pick the restaurant. Wherever you want to go. Just let me know ahead of time so I'll know what clothes to bring with me that day."
Gus went and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from Estelle's desk and handed it to him. Adam jotted down all of his numbers. Home, cell, lab. And even his three e-mail addresses. He handed the paper and pen back to her with an adorable smile that nearly melted Gus' heart.
"So Saturday?" he asked.
"I will call you Friday to tell you the plans." Gus replied.
"I love it when a woman takes charge." Adam said.
Gus grinned. "I like to be in charge." she told him.
"All the time?" he inquired.
"All the time."
"My kind of woman." he declared.
Gus couldn't help but laugh.
Adam blushed. "I better go. Can't keep my pregnant sister waiting. She's majorly hormonal and I hate to set her off. So Saturday?" he started backing up towards the door.
"Six thirty. At the lab." Gus concurred.
"Sounds good. I'll see you then. Well, actually, we'll talk before then." he turned to the door, only to find he was too close to it and banged into it face first.
Gus bit her lip to keep from laughing.
"I...uh...I meant to do that." he said and yanked the door open. "Gotta go."
"Bye, Adam." she said.
"Bye, Gus." he winked at her and stepped out into the hall.
Gus smiled and turned back to head for her office, staring down at the numbers on the paper in her hand. And a wide, bright smile on her face.
It was shortly after seven in the evening. With Flack's meeting long over, he know found himself swamped with a load of old work and a fresh case. A hit in run in the Bronx that left a young single mother of three dead, the kids orphaned, and her husband in the hospital suffering from a breakdown caused by the unexplainable grief. Flack found himself yawning noisily and craving the largest coffee possible as he stepped off the elevator on the thirty-fifth floor and headed for the trace lab to pick up a report. Evidence had been pulled off the vic's clothing and body that may help at least ID the vehicle involve. Like usual, there were no reliable witnesses.
Flack had been in a foul, edgy, pissed off mood all afternoon, and now, all evening. He hadn't talked to Sam since their arguement outside of the lab, although he did leave her a voice message on her cell apologizing for the way he acted and telling her he was sorry and that he loved her and hoped she wasn't that pissed at him that she'd be ignoring his calls.
Adam was in the AV lab when he saw his future brother in law walk by. He yanked the earphones to his I-pod out of his ears, grabbed a stack of papers resting nearby and hurried out.
"Flack!" he called. "Wait up! Got a sec?"
"I guess. What's up? Walk with me to trace."
Adam fell in step alongside of him. "Sam's not here." he said.
"I know. She left me a message that she was on her way to my place to take a nap. Why? What happened? She call you about something?"
"No. No news and good news, right? She told me about your guys' little fight earlier."
Flack sighed.
"For the record, I am so on your side. I feel the same way as you do. But I thought, just to appease her a bit, I'd look up some stuff for you on the 'net. Do a little research. About amnio's and Choronic Villi Sampling. I also managed to talk her doctor into giving me an idea of what the problem with the baby may be and she gave me some names to check out. Like Spina Bifida, Trisomy 21, 18 and 13. Although those last two are extremely rare and horrific and I doubt we're looking at those. So I printed some things out for you and well..." Adam held the papers out. "Here."
Flack stopped walking and took the papers. "You did this for Sam?" he asked, touched by Adam's gesture.
"Actually, I did it for you." Adam said.
Flack smiled. "Thanks.'
"I knew you were really busy and wouldn't get the time to do it yourself so I just took it upon myself. I just thought that, I don't know. That it might help you. Learn some stuff that maybe you don't already know. Weigh the options, so to speak."
Flack just nodded.
"I mean, she's my sister." Adam said. "And that is my niece or nephew and I want you to know that if there's something wrong, I'm there for you guys a hundred percent. Babysitting, money, support. Whatever. And that this baby...I'll love it and accept it no matter what."
Flack nodded again and bit his lip. Struggled to hold back the threat of tears.
"I know it's a big blow, thinking there might be something wrong, but you and Sam have a lot of people that care about you guys and this baby. And it doesn't make a difference to any of us if there's something wrong. I just wanted you to know that, Don."
It was the first time Flack had ever heard Adam call him by his first name. He was surprised at first. But it seemed to right coming from the lab tech. His future brother in law. Flack was touched by it. Because it showed that they were getting closer. Like family.
Adam laid a hand on the detective's shoulder. "Anything, I mean anything. Just let me know."
"Thanks, Adam. I appreciate that. Look, I better get to work." Flack needed to get away before he broke down then and there.
"Work never ends, huh?" Adam laughed lightly. "Know the feeling. No rest for the weary. Talk later."
"Later." Flack said and watched the lab tech go. He sighed heavily and looked at the papers in his hands. He choked back the lump in his throat and decided first thing was first.
Flack sat in the break room. He was the only one in there, taking up sole residence of the room and one of the tables. He sipped crappy hours old coffee and flipped through the information Adam had gathered for him as opposed to concentrating on his case. The report from trace sat untouched on the other side of him. He knew his shift was going to keep him around for God knows how long, so he decided to concentrate on what mattered the most.
He read about the tests first. He didn't like the idea of of doctors inserting a massive needle into his wife's stomach (he called her his wife now, although people corrected him when he did it. As far as he was concerned, with the wedding only three months away, she may as well have been his wife already) and sucking out amniotic fluid for testing. The chance of miscarriage was frightening, as was the incidences of massive infections. He didn't care what the piece said about the doctors being highly skilled, the best in the business. And CVS was no damn better. Once again a huge needle was put in there, although this time they took a piece of the placenta for testing purposes. There was a one in a hundred chance of a spontaneous abortion, and the test could cause deformities in the baby at a rate anywhere between one in a hundred and one in a thousand.
The three D or four D ultrasound was as far as he was willing to take the testing. Being able to see the baby in real time and its physical features up close was damn amazing.
He moved on to the papers regarding potential disabilities. Trisomy 13 and 18 (extra copies of the 13th and 18th chromosome) were the most gut wrenching, nauseating things he had ever read. Massive birth defects, major internal problems, severe developmental delay. Low successful live birth rate. Most didn't make it past their first birth day if they managed to be born at all. One plus was that the chance of either one of those disabilities occurring was slim to none. One in ten thousand. So he decided, for his own sanity, to push those two to the back of his mind.
Down Syndrome, as shocking as having his own child with it would be, he knew he could live with. Many people with it lived full, happy, productive lives with the right amount of support and early intervention. So what if his kid was slower than other kids? There were far worse things out there. And Spinia Bifida had always been in the back of his brain. He had two cousins with it on his mother's side and his mother had always told him there was a possibility of his children being born with it. He saw how well his cousins got along. What good lives they were living. So that wasn't the end of the world either.
But those other two...
He rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his weary eyes. He needed a break from all the mind boggling reading. He got up to make himself a fresh coffee and grab something to eat from the employee fridge. If there was anything decent to steal. Stella had brought in Baklava and Carmen had chipped in donuts. He helped himself to one of each and waited for the coffee to perk.
Mac wandered quietly into the break room. Flack was at the counter with his back towards him and didn't see him come in. Mac however, noticed the massive amount of papers strewn across the table top and picked them up. He flipped through them, frowning at what he saw.
Flack nearly jumped out of his skin when he turned back to head to the table with his coffee and snacks and saw the boss of the lab standing there. "For Christ sakes, Mac!" he exclaimed. "You scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry. What's all this? Amnioscentisis risk and benefits? Choronic Vili Sampling? Trisomy 21, 18 and 13? Spina Bifida? Something wrong with the baby? Are the doctors worried about something?"
"Adam gave me all that. He thought I might want to read it." Flack said.
"What's wrong with the baby?" Mac asked, deeply concerned.
"They don't know anything for sure." Flack said and sat down. "Sam's triple test came back saying she has a sixty percent chance of having a baby with a chromosome or genetic problem. We're weighing our options to see where we go from here."
Mac sat down across from the young detective who had grown up so much in the past few months. "These are pretty invasive tests." he said. "Lots of risk involved."
"Which is why I don't want her having them done." Flack said. "But, Sam disagrees. She said it would be nice to know so we can be prepared. I figure if we're keeping it no matter what, why does she need them?"
"I can understand where you're coming from." Mac told him. "I would feel the exact same way. It wouldn't make me love my child any less. As a matter of fact, I have a cousin with Down Syndrome. He's forty, lives in an apartment of his own and only needs mild supervision. He has a girlfriend, a job. And he loves life."
"That doesn't bother me." Flack said. "A few of the kids I take out from the Y have special needs. Two have ADD and two have Downs. And those kids, Mac, they're amazing. They're fun and affectionate and just want to be accepted and loved. Who cares if they're a bit slower or look a bit different? They're still human and deserve to be here. And I have cousins with Spina Bifida. I know it's damn hard for the parents, but they wouldn't trade their kids for anything. And neither would I."
"And Samantha?"
"She's scared. I understand that. But she's a good person, Mac. She loves everyone. You know that. She'd accept the baby and love him or her no matter what. I just think there's a difference between knowing, and knowing too much. You know what I mean?"
"I do. Too much info can be lethal. Or drive you crazy."
"Exactly."
"Then do yourself a favor, Flack. Stop driving yourself mental by reading all of this. Go with what's in your heart. You know what's best for you and your family. You and Sam just need to talk things out. Wedded bliss is not always blissful. Claire and I used to fight all the time."
"How'd you guys deal with it?" Flack asked.
"We never went to bed angry or without telling each other we loved each other." Mac replied. "We lived that those two rules. And remember one important thing."
"What's that?"
Mac smiled. "Making up is the best part." he smiled.
It was two in the morning as he stood by the side of the couch, exhausted and hurting. Watching her sleep. Stretched out on her side, her arm on the arm of the couch, a fleece blanket pulled up to her chin and the t.v. still on and the converter dangling from her finger tips. A bowl of all dressed chips and a glass of what looked like had been pop sat on the coffee table, as did the cordless phone and an empty DVD case. Children of Men. A Clive Owen movie she'd made him but because she found the guy cute. The t.v. was on a blue screen, the movie long over. She looked like an angel. Innocent and peaceful and content. Long dark eyelashes falling on pale cheeks, a slight smile on her lips.
He shrugged out of his suit jacket and removed his tie and tossed both on the back of the couch. Carefully removed the converter from her hand and flicked off the t.v. He'd clean the other stuff in the morning when he got up. He gently peeled the blanket away from her body and was glad to see she was wearing pyjamas. A pair of satin boxer shorts and one of his t-shirts. It meant he didn't have to risk waking her up and getting her undressed and putting her in p.j.'s. Despite his aching back, he lifted her sleeping form effortlessly into his arms. She mumbled in her sleep and put her arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder.
In the bedroom he yanked the duvet down with one hand and settled her down on the bed, on her back and covered her to her chin. She murmured again and rolled onto her side, facing him as he quickly undressed and got into a t-shirt and boxers before heading for the bathroom to clean up.
She was tossing and turning when he came back in the room and set the alarm for her. He'd worked nearly eighteen hours and Gerrard had been gracious enough to give him the day off. Then told him to gear up for some doubles and some triples The crazies had been relatively quiet for a couple weeks, but things were starting to pick up.
"Donnie?" she asked, her voice sleepy.
"Shh." he said. "Go back to sleep, baby."
Her eyes flickered open. "What time is it?" she asked.
"Almost two thirty."
"In the morning?"
He grinned. "No sleeping beauty, in the afternoon."
"Smart ass. You just got in?"
"Half an hour ago."
"You brought me in here?"
"I did."
"Thank you."
He climbed into bed beside her. "You're welcome." he said and kissed her softly.
"I'm sorry." she said. "About earlier."
"Let's not talk about that right now."
"I overreacted on you. I'm sorry."
"Samantha, it's okay. I understand how you feel. But it's really late and you need sleep."
"I've decided that after the blood work, I'm not going for any other tests." she told him.
"Samantha..."
"I don't want anything happening to the baby. I know you're worried about that. And I love you and I can't loose either of you. I'm just scared."
"So am I." Flack admitted.
She moved closer to him, burying her face in his neck.
"I love you." he said.
"I love you, too. I don't want us to fight anymore."
"Neither do I. You know, Mac gave me the best advice earlier. Three pieces of it."
"Yeah? What were they?"
"Never go to bed angry and always tell each other you love one another."
"He's a wise man. What's the third?"
"Making up is the best part."
Samantha smiled and moved away from him and pushed him onto his back. She climbed on top of him and kissed him deeply. "You know what I think?" she asked, reaching for the waist of his boxers.
"What?"
"I think that's the best advice I've ever heard."
Thanks to everyone R and R'ing. Much appreciated. Keep it up. And to all your lurkers out there, please take the time to review!!