On the couch
"It's hard lovin' a man that's got a gypsy soul
I don't know how you do it
I'm not sure how you know
The perfect thing to say to save me from myself
You're the angel that believes in me like nobody else
And I thank God you do
'Cause when I'm a bullet shot out of a gun
When I'm a firecracker coming undone
When I'm a fugitive ready to run,
all wild-eyed and crazy
No matter where my reckless soul takes me
Baby you save me
I know I don't tell you nearly enough
That I couldn't live one day without your love."
-You Save Me, Kenny Chesney
A/N: I just want to thank my son's speech pathologist, whose husband is a therapist. He specializes in grief counselling, but he was able to give me a rough outline of what he knows goes on in couples counselling here in our city. So I just went with his suggestions. So any flames, send them straight to him, okay?
And Happy Fourth of July to all my readers from the USA!
They were the only ones in the spacious, well decorated waiting area at Doctor Masterston's midtown Manhattan office at nine thirty in the morning the following Wednesday. Flack looked around at the tranquil baby blue walls and the plush navy carpeting and light wood chairs with white and blue upholstery and the gigantic aquarium in the far corner that boasted expensive looking fish of all sizes, shapes and colours. He had never noticed all of that his first time there. Maybe because he'd been so dead set against even going that the whole experience from the very beginning had been so negative. But sitting there with Sam, at the beginning of their first day off together in nearly a month, the second time around didn't seem so bad. It wasn't the evil, dark and dreary place he'd made it out to be in his mind a week before.
The only sounds in the room were the clicking of the keys on the computer keyboard as the receptionist worked diligently away and the bubbling of the fish tank and the occasional rustled of paper as Sam flipped over a page in the Pottery Barn catalogue she was browsing through. She'd brought it and the Babies R Us and Petite Tressor ones along for their planned day of baby browsing as she called it. Serious lists and requests were being made now that her lawyer had called two days before to say the settling of Zack's will was going well and to expect a deposit into her account within a week. The house was already on the market with three prospective buyers interested. The car was being shipped the following week, directly in time for moving day into the new apartment. A hell of a house warming gift for Carmen.
"Think this place is decorated like this for a calming thing?" Flack asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
The one thing he liked most about being with Sam was that neither of them ever felt obligated to engage in nonsense chit chat. Other women he'd been with, he'd always felt he had to say something all the time. Compliment them on how they looked -which he'd already done twice since she'd walked out of the bedroom that morning-or comments about the weather or what they were into. With Sam, if he didn't have anything to say, that was perfectly fine. She didn't expect an on going conversation when they were together anyway.
Sam looked up from her magazine. "Hmm?" she asked, not fully comprehending what he was actually saying to her.
"This waiting room. Light blue walls, soft lights, blue carpet. Fish tank. You think they did things like this on purpose or accidental?"
She often wondered, when he came out with something to say out of the blue, just what was going through his head. And this one of those times.
"I mean, it's a shrink's office, right?" Flack continued. "Think he deals with some high strung people that he feels he needs to calm down before they get into see him or do you think he just went with whatever looked good, not thinking about the whole therapeutic thing?"
"I think you've been watching too much TLC and those Trading Spaces and Flip Your House shows." she replied.
"I'm serious. Is blue not suppose to be a soothing colour?"
"Suppose to be. Do you feel at all soothed or calm?"
He shrugged. "Not really." he replied.
"Then it's not working." she said.
Flack frowned and wrapped his right arm around her, cast on his hand and all, and pulled her sideways into him. "Okay, smart ass." he said and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "Just answer the question. Think it was intentional or just kinda ended up this way?"
"I think someone has a serious thing with the colour blue." Sam replied, straightening out her glasses that he'd nearly knocked off her face. "And that fish tank bubbling like that is making me want to take a nap."
"A nap? You just got up an hour and a half ago. And you went to bed at eight o'clock last night and didn't get up until eight this morning. Not to mention you snored like a goddamn freight train and hogged all the covers."
"We do have a couch." Sam reminded him.
"Yeah. We do. So next time sleep on it."
She elbowed him in the stomach.
"Joking. Just joking." he laughed and kissed her temple. "Seriously though, all this blue…."
"Don, drop it. I am so not having this conversation."
"Oh I'm sorry. Does it bug you that I'm being the intellectual one for once?"
Sam snorted and held the catalogue up for him to see, pointing to a picture of a nursery decorated in soft pastel colours, cherry wood furniture and Winnie The Pooh bedding. It was the bedding she was actually showing him.
"Oh hell no." Flack said.
"Why not?" Sam asked. "It's adorable."
"You are not doing my son's room up in that. Look at it. How girlie it is. No way."
"It is not girly. It's babyish. And that's what we're having. A baby. And no one said it's going to be a boy. Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?"
"Sam, that is the most girlie thing I've ever seen. And by chance we're having a boy, you are going to give him a serious complex by letting him sleep in a room that's meant for a little girl. Can't you pick something that doesn't have flowers and rainbows and a cat and a pig on it?"
"First off, this is Classic Pooh by Disney. And second, that is Tigger and Piglet I'll have you know."
"We can't talk about the blue room but we can talk about Walt Disney characters? Now that's a conversation I want to be part of."
"There is nothing wrong with Winnie the Pooh." she informed him.
"For someone elses kid, fine. Not for mine. And this time you are not getting your way."
She pouted dramatically and flipped through the catalogue once more. "You always have to be so difficult." she huffed. "What about Care Bears?"
"Are you insane? Seriously. You must be insane."
She sighed. "Teddy bears?"
"Samantha…."
"Fine, fine. Nothing too cutesy."
"It's not that. I just don't like Winnie the Pooh or Care Bears. Except for those pyjamas you have. Those are just damn sexy. And Teddy Bears? Come on. Can we go with something that isn't so common? A little different?"
"How about…..Noah's Ark?" she held the book up for him to see once more. "This is a five piece set and comes with the bumper pads and the mobile and everything."
"Bumper what?"
"Pads. Bumper pads. Jesus, Don, where you born on earth? The things that go along the crib so when the baby rolls over he doesn't whack his head and what not off the wood. Anyway, this set comes with everything we need to go in his, or her, bed. We can get it at Pottery Barn. On Second Avenue. We can also get something I really, really want there, too."
He smiled at the excitement in her voice and the way her face lit up and her eyes sparkled whenever she spoke of the baby or the plans she had. They had managed to push the negative thoughts to the back burner for now. Regardless if there was a problem with the baby or not, it still needed all the things every baby needed. And deserved.
She showed him another picture. This time a white wood rocking chair with a blue and white gingham cushion.
"Won't match all the other stuff you want." he commented. "Even the crib is natural wood."
"I don't care. This is the one that I like. It reminds me of my grandmother. She had one just like this and I used to sit and watch her rock Adam to sleep and listen to her sing. She used to sing this lullaby to him all the time. All Through the Night. Have you heard of it?"
Flack shook his head. It was rare that she spoke of her family outside of her mom and Clint and Adam. And only the fourth time since she'd known him that she'd spoken fondly about a childhood memory. And judging by the emotion that crept into her voice and how misty her eyes got, it was a hell of a treasured memory.
"She used to sing it all the time. I'm going to sing it to our babies, too."
He smiled and drew her into him once more and kissed her cheek softly. "You rarely talk about your grandparents. Just that time we were out with Danny and Erica and you talked about a grandmother in Albany. And you've mentioned Clint's parents in Flagstaff."
"Nana and papa. They accepted Adam and me like we were blood relatives. And my grandparents in Albany were my father's parents. This is my mom's mother. Her and my grandfather lived in New Jersey. They were originally from Brooklyn and retired to Garden City. She had a rocking chair just like this. I can still see her sitting in it with Adam. She probably even rocked me in it. I want one just like it."
"Then we'll get you one." Flack told her. "If it means that much…."
"It does."
"And are your grandparents still in Jersey?"
"They died in a car accident when Adam was ten and I was almost fifteen."
"I'm sorry." he said, and rubbed her shoulder softly.
"What about you? The only grandfather you've mentioned is the one on your mom's side. And he died three years ago."
Flack found it so odd that there they were, engaged to be married in three months, a baby on the way, and there were so many little things that they didn't even know about each other. Things had happened so quickly and unexpectedly and the truth of the matter was, although they were madly in love, they barely knew each other.
"My grandmother died when I was seven of uterine cancer. My grandfather never remarried and threw himself into his job and taking care of their eight kids. He didn't have time to do anything else other than work and be a father. And my grandparents on my dad's side are back in Ireland. They moved back there when their kids were grown and out of the house. I called them last month and told them about us. And the baby."
"You did?"
He nodded. "So expect all kinds of knit blankets and clothes in the mail when it gets closer to your due date. My grandma is a lot like your mom. Maybe one day, we can go and visit them."
Sam smiled. "I'd like that. I've never been outside of the United States."
"Me either. So it'll be a first time for both of us."
"Long time since I've lost my virginity in anything." Sam quipped.
Flack couldn't help but burst out laughing at the candid comment.
"It's true." she said laughing as well. "Did you grandfather never want to meet someone else or was it just because he didn't have time to meet someone?"
"He told me he'd already had the best so why should he settle for anything less."
Sam considered that answer. "Would you ever get married again?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"If something happened to me. Would you get married again?"
"Don't talk like that. And we're not even married yet."
"So when we do get married. Would you get married again if something happened to me?"
He sighed. "Why are we talking about this?" he asked.
"It's a simple question, Donnie." she retorted.
"No. Okay? No. I wouldn't get married again. It's a one time thing. I'm only doing it once. And if something happens to you, then I plan on living my life alone and pining away for you. I wouldn't get married again. Date, maybe. But married? No."
"Why?" she asked.
"Why what?"
"Why wouldn't you get married again?"
"Because I love you and only want you. Not someone else.."
"I wouldn't be angry if you found someone else." Sam said matter of factly.
"Do we really have to talk about this?" Flack asked irritably. "How'd we go from talking about the baby to talking about you dying?"
"I'm just saying that it's not a bad thing if you met someone else and you fell in love and wanted a life with them. I wouldn't be upset and haunt you or anything. I mean, you're human and you need someone to…."
"Samantha, I love you. And you're going to be my first, and only, wife. Okay? We're going to grow old and grey together and have grandkids and great grandkids. So drop it."
"I'm just saying that you wouldn't be a bad person if….."
"Drop it." he said sternly. Then softened his tone and added: "Please." It irked him that she had a penchant for fatalistic talk when things seemed to be going smoothest. He was a 'the glass is half full' person while she looked at it as half empty.
"And while you're at it," he said "think about calling your cousin. Danny's been on my ass for a week because you won't return any of Erica's calls."
Sam sighed and went back to her catalogue. "I'll think about it." she said.
"Look, I don't know what you two had a fight about, but whatever it is, she obviously feels bad about it and is trying to make an effort to patch things up. Things can't be that bad that would make you want to cut off all contact to your own cousin. Especially when you guys just got close again after so long."
"It was bad enough." Sam said, roughly flipping a page in the catalogue.
"She's your cousin. Nothing can be that bad."
"You've never fought with any of your family?" Sam asked pointedly.
"Sure. There's been times I wanted to kill my brother. But he's still my brother regardless of what a jack ass he is and I'll always have his back. Just like Erica is still your cousin and I know for a fact you want her in your life. In the baby's life."
Sam sighed heavily and closed the magazine and stuffed it into her tote style purse. "Why do you always have to be right?" she asked.
"It's not that I'm always right. I just tend to be the more sensible one. Remember what I told you about my theory of higher education, less common sense?"
"You're pushing it today." She laughed and yanked the Petite Tressor magazine from her purse.
"What's taking this guy so long? It's like waiting to see the principal."
"You spend a lot time outside the principal's office did you?" Sam asked with a grin. "All those times you thought you could see through girls' skirts and the nuns caught you?"
"That. And the fact I used to skip school all the time and mouth off to the teachers when I did manage to find my way to class."
"Why am I not surprised?" Sam laughed.
"Apparently they didn't appreciate my sense of humor." Flack said. "I used to do some crazy shit and get in all kinds of hot water with the old man. This one time, my brother and I decided we needed a morning pick me up so before we left the house we filled two thermoses with orange juice and like four shots of vodka in them. Only problem was, my brother has never been able to hold liquor of any kind and he was shit faced by second period. So he gets called down to the principal's office. Mr Turner. He was this tiny, skinny guy with thick glasses and bushy hair and a Scottish accent and he was a tough sonofabitch. As soon as he threatened to call my old man, Chris ratted me out. Said it was all my fault. I was seventeen and he was fourteen and in grade nine so naturally, I was the bad influence. My dad…..he lost it 'cause he had to leave shift to come and get us 'cause my mom was fed up with our shit and wanted us tossed in juvee. He put the beats on my brother something fierce when we got home."
"What did he do to you?" Sam asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"Hit me once and I laid him out. Right in the middle of the kitchen floor. One shot. Boom. He woke up two hours later with a busted nose and never touched me again."
"And you left shortly after that?" Sam asked, hating the sadness and darkness that had come into his eyes.
He nodded. "Day after my eighteenth birthday I went and lived with my grandfather. Smartest thing I ever did. I would have went nuts if I'd stayed around my dad. I was a huge disappointment to him."
"Why? You became a cop and carried on the family name?"
"Guess he felt I was destined to do more. That I was so much better than police work. He never even showed up to my graduation from the academy. Hell, he never even showed up when I was on my death bed after the bombing."
Sam's heart ached for him. She'd seen that troubled, despondent side to him before. The night he came home from telling his parents about getting married and having a baby and broke down in front of her. She couldn't stand seeing him that way and reached out and rubbed the back of his neck softly.
"Have you ever really thought sitting down with him and just talking?" she asked gently. "No shouting, no accusations, just a talk?"
"I don't know if he'd listen."
"You don't know until you try. Just a simple 'dad, I want to be able to talk to you again. I don't want to hate you, you're my father. I want you to see your grandchild'."
"Trust me, Sam. He doesn't care that we're having a baby. That his first born is having a kid. He just thinks it's a big fucking mistake and nothing will change his mind."
"You don't know that." Sam said. "If he met me maybe he'd..."
"No." Flack cut her off, sounding harsher than he'd intended. "There's no way he's meeting you. I can't do that to you, Sam. I can't. It's better that you never meet him. You or the baby. He doesn't deserve to have either one of you in his life."
"Donnie, maybe you should just..."
She was interrupted mid sentence by the door leading from the waiting room into the therapist's office clicking open and a young couple, no older then themselves, emerging hand in hand, the pretty blond haired wife with her head buried in her husband's arm, bawling inconsolably. The husband looked furious, his lips set in a firm line, his shoulders and back rigid.
Sam's eyes widened at the sight and she looked at Flack.
His blue eyes followed the other couple from the doorway to the office to the exit. He even jumped when the husband yanked open the door and then slammed it hard enough to rattle the pictures on the nearby wall. He looked at Sam, saw the -What the fuck was that?- expression on her face and offered up a small smile.
"I look at it this way," he said. "We'll either come out of this really, really in love, or mortal enemies."
Sam sighed heavily and closed the magazine and put it in her purse.
The receptionist appeared in the doorway in front of them. "Sorry you two had to see that." she said sheepishly.
"Does that happen often?" Sam asked. "Should we be worried?"
"Only if you already have something to be worried about, hun." the receptionist replied. "And the doctor will see you two now."
Flack stood up and offered his hand to his future wife. "Hey," he said, gently assisting her to her feet and leaning over to kiss her softly. "Just remember that whatever gets said in there, I love you and I don't want to die. I want to see my kid born and my thirty-first birthday. Okay?"
"Guess you better watch what you say then." She teased as they headed, hand in hand, for the door.
She hoped she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.
Sitting there on the black leather sofa, the doctor in front of them with his leg over his knee and notepad resting on his thigh and pen at ready, Samantha felt as if she were on complete display. The way that the man was watching her made her feel uncomfortable. As if she were being closely observed and monitored for any simple sign that may suggest she was in dire need of aggressive intervention. Therapy with Gus had been more laid back and although it had taken a while for her to trust and open up completely to a stranger, the modern miracle of it all was that she had poured her heart and soul out to someone she barely knew. Gus hadn't judged her or looked down at her, and although there had been things Gus had said that had disheartened her a little, she'd never been made to feel like some kind of freak for needing help.
But this. This was probably one of the most uncomfortable situations she'd ever found herself in. And after brief introductions an about five minutes of silence and staring, she already felt edgy and defensive. And tried to avoid any wrong moves or eye contact. Instead, she looked around the wood panelled office. At the walls upon walls of medical journals and self help books and the degrees so proudly displayed in gold frames. She thought about her own diplomas back at her parents house in Phoenix, collecting dust in the basement along with things she'd long ago packed away and lost interest. She knew what education she had and how hard she'd worked. She didn't need something to remind her.
Flack sat beside her, his arm across the back of the couch, fingertips just grazing the top of her shoulder, alternating between looking at the doctor who was patiently waiting for someone to say something, anything, while tapping his pen on his note pad, and at Sam who seemed off in a world of her own. Not the right time to go into one of her scattered brained, flighty moments, he thought. Usually she had something to say in a situation. Whether it be serious or totally smart ass.
"Would someone like to begin?" Masterston asked.
"What do you want us to say?" Flack responded.
"Start with what made you realize there was help needed in your relationship."
"I guess putting my hand threw a wall was a sign there was something was really, really wrong." Flack said honestly. "One of the signs, anyway."
"What are some of the other signs?" the doctor inquired. "What are the most common problems in your relationship that cause conflict?"
"We fight." Sam said, finally turning back to face the doctor. "A lot. Constantly."
"About?"
"Anything and everything." she said. "Little things, big things. Things in between. It doesn't matter. He says black, I say white. It's just the way we are. We can't talk properly because nine times out of ten it turns into an argument if either one of us doesn't agree with the other. We're both very stubborn and hate criticism and hate being told what to do even more."
The doctor nodded, writing everything down. "When was the last time you had a fight?"
"This morning." Flack admitted. "Over something really, really stupid. Because last night she asked me to pick up orange juice for her and I picked up apple juice. So it turned into world war three at eight in the morning. It's the pregnancy hormones. She's apparently got massive levels of them. So I kinda get why she is the way she is sometimes. And that sticking up for myself only makes things worse. But when you want to strangle your pregnant wife, that's not good."
"I don't mean to be like that." Sam said in defence of herself. "I can't help it. Sometimes I feel like I'm going nuts because my moods are all over the place. I thought being pregnant was suppose to be this magical, happy time and it's been nothing but aggravation and torment."
"And stress." Flack added. "Lots of stress because there's been some problems and her health isn't good so it's been a lot of stress and worry. We've been been really miserable and on edge with each other. It's not just her. I'm not saying it's just her."
"And this fight, in which you broke your hand, what was that about?" the doctor asked.
"A whole bunch of shit." replied Flack. "You know, one of those fights where both people toss in all kinds of crap just to hurt the other person."
"Do you find the two of you do that a lot when you fight? Say things to intentionally hurt the other person?"
"I don't know if we're intentionally trying to hurt each other." Sam said. "I think we do it as a form of self defence and to protect ourselves. I've never said anything cutting that I've actually meant or I haven't apologized for afterwards. And I'm not the nasty one out of the two of us."
Flack coughed to hide a laugh and shook his head.
"What's that suppose to mean?" Sam asked defensively.
"You are the nasty one." he informed her.
"This coming from the King of sarcasm and cutting remarks." she snorted.
"I've never been that way with you."
"Excuse me?" she straightened up in her seat and moved away from him and fixed him with a cold glare.
"I haven't." Flack insisted.
"Whatever." She said and crossed her arms over her chest, distancing herself from him both physically and emotionally.
"See this is what she gets like." Flack said to the doctor. "If she doesn't like what I have to say, she gets all pissed off and pouts and whines like a little kid. You have to be really, really nice to her and never disagree with her or she makes you pay. For a long time. She never lets it go. Five months from now she'll bring this moment up in a fight just to make me feel like a bastard."
"Maybe because you have a tendency to be a bastard." Sam said.
"We're getting off track." Masterston said. "I'd like to know what the fight was about that resulted in Detective Flack putting his hand through a wall and breaking it."
"He acts like it's the end of the world." Sam snapped. "He broke the bone under his baby finger. Not the whole hand. I know it's painful, but shit, does he need to walk around like he's fucked up his entire hand? This is a guy that had his stomach ripped open in a bomb explosion and nearly died and he can't take a broken bone in his hand? Come on."
"This is why I punch walls." Flack said. "Because of shit like this. 'Cause I can't punch her and never would punch her. What's a guy suppose to do?"
"Not hit things." Sam suggested, as if it was the simplest solution in the world.
"If we could just stay on track." the doctor said calmly.
"We fought because she doesn't like me working with other women." Flack said.
"Tell the whole story." Sam told him. "Not just the parts that make you look good. Because I can handle you working with Stella and Carmen and I could handle you working with Lindsay when she was still here. But Max..."
"For fuck sakes let that go." Flack snapped.
"Whose Max?" Masterston asked.
"Max is my new partner." Flack explained. "Emma Maxwell. She's a friend of mine and..."
"Tell the truth, Don." Sam implored. "What happened to your 'this will only work if we're truthful' lecture you gave me on the way here?"
"She and I had an arrangement." Flack told the doctor.
"They were fuck buddies." Sam interjected. "Plain and simple. And she still wants to be his fuck buddy."
"Who cares?" Flack asked. "I don't want anything to do with her in that way."
"And I'm just supposed to be okay with you working with someone you had that kind of relationship with? Am I suppose to just say to her, 'it's okay, here, have my husband'?" Tears trickled down Samantha's face.
"Why are you crying?" Flack asked, voice gentle and concerned.
Masterston got up and sat his pen and note pad on his chair and went to his desk. Returning with a box of tissues in his hand. He tore out a handful and passed them to Sam with a sympathetic smile before dropping the box between her and Flack and then returning to his chair and going back to his listening, observing and note taking.
"Thank you." Sam said and wiped her eyes.
"Don't cry." Flack said, rubbing her shoulder softly. "There's no reason to cry, baby."
"You wouldn't be happy if I was working with someone I had a past with." Sam told him. "You'd be pretty pissed and ready to kill the guy and you know it."
"I know...but there's no reason to worry about Max. She's not a threat to you or our relationship. I've told you that. I love you. Just you. There's nothing for you to worry about."
"You think that no other man in this free world would be interested in me. That I should consider myself lucky because you're even with me."
"What? I've never said that. Or thought that and I..."
"Well there are other men that are interested in me." she continued "Other men that I could be with and I choose to be with you and marry you and have your baby and you know what? You're the one that is damn lucky to be with me!"
"Samantha, baby, I've never..."
"Like how would you feel if I told you all the times that Speed flirted with me or the chances I had to make a move on him?"
Flack frowned. "Excuse me?"
"Or my ex. Evan. The Pelham Bay guy. He's a big time player on Wall Street and worth tons and he's been trying to contact me for a couple weeks now."
Flack turned sideways on the couch and glared at her "What?"
"That upsets you?" the doctor asked.
"Of course it fucking upsets me." Flack fumed. "She's going to be my wife. She's pregnant with my baby. I'm supposed to be okay with guys hitting on her? Especially while she's pregnant?"
"What makes it any different than how I feel about you working with Max?" Sam asked.
"Because you can trust me." he replied.
"And you can't trust me?"
"Apparently not when it's one of my friends. Your best friend's fiancé. And he's coming onto you? A guy we both work with? And who you went to after our big fight?"
"I didn't go to him. I went to see Carmen and she wasn't there and he was."
"I didn't see you leave. You still hung around to talk to him." Flack made air quotes with his good hand at the word talk. "Or were you doing more than just talk?"
"What?" Look at me, Don. I'm four months pregnant! What is wrong with you? I wouldn't cheat on you. Baby or no baby. I told you that!"
"And I told you I'd never mess around with Max. And I won't. I'd never do that to you. You know that." her rubbed her shoulder comfortingly and lowered his voice. "I love you. You and our baby."
"Let's talk about the history of your relationship." the doctor suggested. "How long have the two of you been together?"
Sam dabbed at her eyes. "A little more than six months."
"Short time." Masterston commented.
"Things happened really quick between us." Sam said. "One minute we were meeting outside the crime lab and the next we were finding out we were having a baby and getting engaged. It's overwhelming. I mean, I love him and I couldn't imagine my life without him, but it's so scary sometimes."
"Sometimes it's like we're strangers," Flack added, almost sadly. "We're getting married and having a kid and sharing a bed yet we don't know each other. And I love her and adore and I don't regret anything that's happened. But yeah, I agree with her. It's scary."
"The two of you are preparing yourselves for huge lifestyle changes and trying to get to know each other at the same time." the doctor said. "Do you both feel you get enough alone time? To go on actual dates? Talk?"
"We could use more of that." Flack said. "Definitely."
"Find a night both of you are off. Take that time to focus solely on each other. No one else matters. Just the two of you. Talk. Ask questions. Find out what makes each other tick. How about past relationships? What were they like? How do you feel they affect you now? Detective Flack?"
"I've never had a relationship that went longer than three months or didn't involve solely sex. I avoided women that I was attracted to on a deeper, more emotional level and settled for ones I just wanted sex from. I didn't want to get attached to someone than deal with all the hurt and emotional crap that came with breaking it off with someone I actually felt something for. Last time that happened, I had a long term girlfriend all through high school and into the academy and I found out she was doing my brother at the same time. Broke my heart. After that, I never got attached to anyone."
Sam stared at her future husband, shocked by his confession. A side to him she never knew existed.
"I used women for sex." Flack concluded. "I am not proud of it. And if Sam hadn't have been the strong, take no shit woman that she is, I probably would have had sex with her and dumped her after a while, too. But I felt things for her I'd been trying not to feel for anyone. And I was tired of being alone and I fell in love with her pretty fast. She's the first woman I can actually say I really love. Unconditionally. No strings attached. For everything she is. It's why I know, even with all our problems, me and her are right. I mean, all I think about is marrying her and having the baby and other babies and growing old with her. It's all that matters to me. Before I was all work and now I'm all her and the baby. She's my everything. I can't loose her."
He wiped at his moist eyes with his bad hand.
Sam let go of his other hand and tucked some Kleenexes into his palm. They smiled at one another and she reached out and brushed his tears away with gentle fingertips.
"Detective Ross." the doctor said. "How about you?"
"Every relationship I've had with men has been horrible. I was abused, pretty badly, as a child, and I tended to be drawn to men that were abusive. One used coercion and threats to get me to have sex with him when I was fourteen and the other cheated on me repeatedly with strange women and got off on abusing me both physically and psychologically. And then I met Don and he was the complete opposite. He's attentive an loving and always compliments me and makes me feel good about myself. He's not perfect and he's the first person to admit that."
Flack nodded in agreement.
"But the way I feel about him? I've never felt that before in my life. Or had anyone make me feel the way he does. And I think that's why I fell for him so quickly. Because it was new and different and so different from what I was used to. So when he gets all protective and jealous, it's just because no one has even been like that with me before."
"Did either one of you have relationship role models growing up?" Masterston asked after a short period of silence.
"My mom let my birth father use me and my brother as punching bags." Sam replied. "She never stuck up for us because if she did, she got it even worse than us. When my father died and she met my step-dad, she finally found someone that loved her. And us. But by then we had already seen the worse and it's all we really remember."
The therapist looked at Flack.
"My father was a cop. A legend. Well respected on the job. At home he was a bastard. He drank a lot and gambled all the time and beat on all of us and treated my mom like shit. He had no respect of love for her yet she was expected to bow to him. And I promised myself I'd never be like him."
"What about how the two of you handle disappointment or anger or sadness?" the doctor asked. "How do you both cope?"
"Other than punching walls?" Flack asked. "I drink. I drink a lot. And in all honesty, it's not just to deal with things. I do it just to do it. I don't even know why I do it. I'm starting to think I have a problem. With alcohol. A small one, but still a problem."
Sam found herself staring at him again. Shocked at his honesty and frankness in front of a total stranger.
"I don't want to be an alcoholic." Flack continued. "And sometimes I think I'm heading that way and that I won't know how to stop before it's too late. 'Cause I know what booze does to a marriage and a family and I don't want that happening to us. And I'm willing to do anything to stop from being that way. Anything."
"Detective Ross….."
"I used to drink to cope. But I haven't touched even the smallest but since I found out I was pregnant. Everything is about keeping myself and the baby healthy. I wouldn't do anything to hurt the baby. When I'm angry or depressed, I tend to just run away from things. Turn myself off and shut people out. That's my coping skill. I don't plan on going back to drinking like I used to either. I don't like the way alcohol makes me feel."
Silence fell as the doctor hurried to scribble everything down. No one spoke or even looked at each other. Sam self-consciously twirled the engagement ring around her finger while Flack stared at his hands and wondered if the doctor thought he was as big of a bastard as he felt.
"You know what else I'm scared of." Flack suddenly said, causing both Sam and the doctor to look at him. "I'm afraid one day, I'm going to loose it because of all this anger I have from my life and my job and I'm gonna beat the shit out of my wife and my kids. That I'll hurt Sam or whatever kids we have, And I don't want that to happen."
Masterston nodded understandingly. "Anger management will help you deal with your response to anger and stress." he assured the younger man. "We'll make sure you never get to that point. We can find an outlet that you can use to release those feelings. In a positive, non violent way."
"Just please no journals." Flack said. "I am not a journal guy."
"No journals." the doctor assured him. "We can sit down and find something you enjoy and that will help you calm down and relieve stress. Now, at this time, at the end of this assessment session, it's customary for a couple to take a moment to discuss whether or not they want to continue with therapy. Now Detective Flack, you'll have to continue with anger management as per Inspector Gerrard's mandate, but we could schedule couples therapy for evenings or even Saturday mornings."
"We all ready agreed on the way here that we'd continue for as long as you felt we needed to." Sam said.
"I can't give you a time frame on how soon or how long that will be. But I can tell you both that all the problems you are having are easy to work with and solve. I'll help you both learn how to, for not better way of putting it, pick your battles. How to fight fair and clean. Teach you to respect each other and realize what you have together is far more positive than it is negative. You love each other very much. Now it's time to learn how to like each other. And get to know each other."
"Sounds good to me." Flack said. "That's pretty well what we were hoping for."
"As far as alcohol dependency goes, even border line dependency as you described, how would you feel about talking to someone from AA? Maybe a fellow officer whose had a struggle with the bottle. Someone you'd feel more comfortable talking to."
Sam was expecting an angry, negative reaction to that idea from Flack. And for the suggestion that he needed AA. A fuck you, I'm not an alcoholic and mind your own goddamn business type response. Instead, he sighed heavily and thought about it for a few minutes before nodding slowly.
"Guess that wouldn't hurt right?" he said. "What do they say? First step in dealing with a problem is admitting you have one? Something like that."
"I'll contact the organization and see if they can put me in contact with someone you can talk to." the doctor said. "In the meantime, what would work better for the two of you? Weekly? Bi-weekly? Mornings, afternoons, early evenings?"
"We can usually get away easily." Sam responded. "But I think early evenings once a week would be okay. Just not Thursdays because we have pre-natal classes."
"Wednesday evenings, six thirty?" Masterston suggested.
Sam looked at Flack for an answer.
"Works for me." he said.
"In the meantime, before our next appointment, I want the two of you to do a little homework. I want you both, separately, to write down as many things you can think of that you both love about each other, outside of intimacy, and that you hate about each other. Then, when you feel you've finished, maybe give it a few days, I want you to exchange papers and talk about what you wrote. Then come back here and share with me what you learned and how you dealt with it and how you plan on changing the negative."
Masterston stood and went to his desk and grabbed an appointment card from a brass holder. He jotted down the date and time of their appointment an handed the card to Flack as he and Sam got up from the couch.
"Do you think we'll be okay?" Sam asked. "In your honest opinion?"
"In my honest opinion, I see two people who love each other and who can handle anything that's thrown their way. You'll both be fine. As long as your determined to stay that way."
Flack pocketed the card and Sam led the way from the office. Another couple was waiting for their appointment in the reception area. Flack recognized the husband as a senior officer with the ESU. Thankfully, the husband was so intent of calming down his nervous wife that he didn't look up and see Flack there. Because Flack was in no mood to have this guy hunt him down at the water cooler to discuss therapy with him. He was already getting grief from Messer for being a pansy for resorting to talking to a shrink.
"Well," Flack said, as they stopped at the elevator, his hand on the small of Sam's back. "That was…..interesting."
"That's one word for it." Sam said, pressing the down button.
"You okay?" he asked in concern, taking in her sniffling and her blood shot eyes and tear streaked face.
She nodded and wiped her eyes again. "Is my makeup all smudged?" she asked, turning her face up to him. "Do I have raccoon eyes?"
"Nope. You're beautiful. You're always beautiful."
She laughed lightly. "That's it. Kiss my ass now why don't you. Are you mad? For what I said about Speed and Evan?"
"I'm not mad. And you were honest. I'm more upset you didn't tell me sooner. And that Speed would do that to Carmen."
"It happened way before they were engaged." Sam defended her friend.
"And I'm upset that this asshole ex of yours is coming around. Why do you do that, Sam? Keep things from me?"
"I don't mean to. I just get scared of how you'll react. I'd never do anything with anyone. You know that, right? You do trust me, don't you, Donnie?"
"I do. But trust is a two way street and this thing with Max? You need to get a grip on that. I'm not interested in her. In anyone. Just you."
"I'm sorry. Some of the things I said in there….I'm sorry."
She looked, and sounded, as if she were going to cry again, and he frowned and pulled her into him and held her tightly, bad hand in all, his good hand on the back of her head, her face in his chest.
"I just want us to be okay." she said.
"We will be." he assured her. "I promise you. Things will get better. And easier. We love each other and we just have to work on everything else like he said."
"You still want to get married, right?"
"Of course I do. What kind of question is that? Do you?"
She nodded.
He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head. "You know what we need to do tonight?" he asked.
She giggled.
"Other than that. Get your mind out of the gutter. We need to go out. Somewhere nice where we both have to dress up. I'd kill to see you in a dress. Somewhere quiet and romantic. You know, candles, expensive food, wine. Well, maybe not the wine. We'll leave that out. But a date. A real date. No cell phones or anything or anyone interrupting us. Sound good?"
"I'd really like that. Especially the no cell phones part."
The elevator arrived and he let her go they stepped inside and he pressed the button for the parking garage.
"Even dessert afterwards." Flack said. "Whatever you want."
She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling and a delicate smile curving her lips. "Whatever?" she asked.
"Anything you want."
"Hmmm….I was craving mint chocolate chip ice cream in the most unconventional way earlier."
He grinned. "Man, when you talk like that, you have no idea what that does to me."
"Oh yes. I do." she laughed.
"First, we go out and we pick out whatever we want for our kid and get the two of you some lunch. Can't starve my wife and first born."
She put her arm around his waist and leaned into him. "I love you." she said. "I know sometimes maybe it doesn't seem that way and…"
"Hey…" he backed away from her and lifted her chin up with a finger. "Don't talk like that." he kissed her softly. "I love you, too. And what's important is that we came here together and we're making an effort. We'll make it Sam. You know we will. It's the only thing that I am sure of. Me, you and our baby."
For the first time in her life, Samantha finally felt sure of something. And of herself.
But couldn't shake the feeling that if something felt too good to be true, it probably was.
A big thank you to all of you for understanding my RL situation. I appreciate that. And another big thank you for all of you who are reading and reviewing. You guys are the reason I do this. I love doing this story for all of you. And if you keep coming back, I will keep working on it.
Hope: Maury Povich and those paternity episodes are my guilty pleasure. I just thought it seemed like something Sam may be into. She's got that girly, fun side to her. And Carmen and Sam are always fun to write.
Mauveine: Carmen and Sam together is very interesting. Mmmm….my plot bunnies like that idea. LOL. And Flack…..he has his moments that make you go AWWW. Hopefully he'll have more of them.
Blue: It gets better for Max. But she does have a serious HATE for Sam at the moment
Brrtmclv: Carmen and Sam have a friendship that is both intense and hilarious. The lesbian scene was fun to write. They were going to play up to it but I changed my mind. And I was really unsure about Flack talking to the baby over the phone but it seems to have been popular with people
Forest Angel: Sam and Carmen just know how to push each others buttons yet not go too far. We'll find out the excuse he gave for Max in the next chap. And the part with the baby was up in the air right to the bitter end and then I included it.
Eva: Thanks for being so understanding. I appreciate it. And Flack and Sam are learning how to be in love and get along. It's what they need.
Soccer: My faithful supporter. Glad you like it!
ImaSupernaturalCSI: Flack will have some great 'daddy' moments in the common months of the pregnancy. And a tear jerker type when his son is born.
EmSyd: thanks for coming back and enjoying! Looking forward to hearing from you!
Laplandgurl: How did Canada Day treat you? It wasn't bad here except for some rain and thunderstorms. There's more to come from Erica. They'll make up but there's a price to pay for her being stupid enough to give Sam's numbers
Madison: I always look forward to hearing from you. Thank for sticking by me. I hope this chap was okay. I'm not that great with the therapy thing.