DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND BABY KIERAN AND EVAN LUCERNO.
Some people change
"And god only knows all the places I've been
But I love this life that I'm living in
I wont look back to regret yesterday
Were not handed tomorrow
so I'll live for today
Another day and yet another's done
spending a life living with in the past
I'll take the chance before the chance has gone
You never know when it'll be your last."
-Live For Today, Three Doors Down
It had been a while since Flack last put on his dress blues. Almost five years. In his profession, not having a fellow officer's funeral to attend in five years was nothing short of a miracle. A few weeks ago, when cleaning out his closet in preparation of the move to the new place, he'd come across his dress uniform sealed in a garment back hanging at the very back. He'd taken it out and laid it on the bed and unzipped the bag. He'd thought back to his academy graduation when he'd worn the blues with pride. Having finally done something with his life and embarking on a career he knew he'd be damn good at. If not great. That uniform had seen a lot of wear in the days and weeks following September 11th. There'd been a countless, gut wrenching string of funerals to attend following the terrorist attacks on the city he loved and called home. He hoped and prayed New York City, and the world would never see something that horrific again.
Fall of 2003. That had been the last time he'd worn those dress blues. When Officer Valasquez, an NYPD veteran, had been shot off his horse, Blue, in the middle of Central Park. He was just on his regular mounted patrol when he attempted to intervene on a young black man assaulting an elderly gent in a brazen daylight attack. A sniper waiting in the window of building at a startling distance from the park only needed one shot. The bullet had pierced through Valasquez' vest and he was dead before he hit the ground.
Willie Chauncey, the kid who'd started the fight with the unsuspecting tourist, had lured the officer to the exact spot where the sniper could get his kill shot. Jerald Brown was highly skilled marksman who'd been demoted for disobeying military orders. He had a serious hard on for the cops because his father, Willie's uncle, had been screwed over by a crooked cop and was shivved and died in jail before he could get a court date. It was nothing personal against Valasquez. Brown just picked any cop and pulled the trigger.
Flack remembered that case like it was yesterday. More because it was a dead 'brother', and because of the sparring match he'd had with Chancy in interrogation over the disposable cell phone the kid had dropped at the scene. Flack had chided him about it, asking him if the girl he was talking to was giving him phone sex. And the little smart ass had said, yeah, you want her number?
Sam had come in, and saw him standing there at the foot of the bed, lost in thought as he stared down at his dress uniform. She knew that look in his eyes. Dark and sullen and troubled. And she'd approached the bed quietly and stood beside him and wrapped her around about his waist and rested her head against his arm, leaving him with his thoughts for several minutes. When he finally forced all gloomy thoughts from his mind, he'd turned to her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"I wish I had have been at your graduation to see you in that," she'd said. "I bet you look hot."
"It's just a uniform," he'd told her.
"I know. But it's dress blues. And I bet you look damn sexy in them."
He'd stopped short of offering to play dress up for her. Because not only did that seem a little disrespectful to the badge, he had also known that he was about twenty-five pounds heavier than he was in 2003 and there was no way that uniform would fit him now. But he'd made a decision to go and pay out of the pocket for a new one. Maybe that had been an omen. A sign that something was going to happen that would require the dress blues. Because until that day, he'd never gave the uniform a second thought.
Now he stepped off the elevator at Women's and Children's. Making a pit stop to his slowly recuperating wife to be in hopes it would cheer her up a little to see him in his dress uniform. And needing a little moral support from her to get him through the difficult afternoon ahead of him.
He'd gone home early that morning to drop off his dirty clothes and pack a bag of clean stuff to take back with him. Sam had been sleeping when he'd leaned over the bed and kissed her forehead softly and than bent to press a kiss to her rounded belly. There'd been no further complications. She'd been taking off the catheter and was allowed to take small walks to and from the bathroom and around the room. Nothing too strenuous. Once she could walk to the elevators and back with no discomfort, it was time to head home. They were looking at least another few days. And another week or two before she could return to work on a very strict modified schedule.
He peeked his head into the room. Nearly filled to bursting with elaborate flower arrangements and get well cards and balloon bouquets. Sam was awake and sitting up in bed, the ear piece for the television in one ear while she ate a small Styrofoam bowl of soft serve vanilla ice cream and watched The Price is Right.
She was clad in a pair of warm flannel pyjamas from home. White with black and yellow penguins on them. The woman didn't own any night ware that didn't boast cartoon characters of some kind. And that was okay by Flack. It was what was under the clothing that mattered most.
"Trying to win a new car?" he asked from the doorway.
She jumped slightly. Not expecting anyone to speak to her suddenly. "I was actually hoping for a trip to Thailand," she said, not looking away from the t.v. "But my price wasn't right."
"That's rough. We could have went on a honeymoon after all," he teased and journeyed into the room.
"My thought exactly," she said, and glanced over at him. A broad smile spread across her face at the sight on him in his dress uniform. Hat and all. "Well hello Officer," she drawled.
"Thought I'd stop by and give you a little peek," Flack told her, removing the hat and setting it on the bedside table before leaning over the bed to kiss her.
"Well that just cheered me right up," she said, removing the ear piece and reaching up to flick off the television. "I didn't think you'd come by until after the funeral."
"I just wanted to see you and check up on you," Flack told her, putting the railing down on the bed so he could sit down alongside of her. "Where'd you get the ice cream?"
"Don't worry. It's frozen yogurt and it's sugarless. My dad brought it up for me before he and mom headed out to do some tourist stuff with Gus. She's awful brave. Offering to spend a day with my parents, especially Sarge, without Adam there to rescue her."
"Has your dad said anything to you about me? Good things, I mean?"
Sam smiled and rested her head on his shoulder. "If you mean did he mention you guys kissed and made up and bonded over Kieran, yes, he did."
Flack smiled as well. "I love when you say that," he said, his hand rubbing her stomach in smooth, gentle circles. "Calling the baby by his name."
"I like referring to him by his name. Makes it seem so real. But I'm excited now. Seeing him and knowing he's okay. I don't think I can wait another twenty weeks for him to be born. I wish we could have him right now."
"So do I. But for his own sake, it's best if he just stays where he is. We're just going to have to be patient. As difficult as that seems at this point in time."
"Impossible is more like it," she sighed. She turned her head sideways and sniffed his clothes and nuzzled her nose into him. "You smell damn yummy," she announced. "Dress blues, yummy smelling cologne. If I didn't know any better, detective, I would say you're trying to turn me on."
"Is it working?" he teased.
She nodded. "If I didn't feel so shitty, I'd say lock the door and make an honest woman out of me."
"Don't tempt me, Sam. 'Cause I know you're really sick and I wouldn't actually try anything on you. But I miss you. A lot."
"I miss you, too," she said. "In every way."
"When you get out of here, things are going to be better," he promised her. "I talked to Gerrard and Sinclair. The day of your operation. I told them all about Max and what happened that night of the stake out. And that I wanted a new partner."
"What did they say? Were they mad that you never told them what happened in the first place?"
"They were glad I told them. And they said that I'd be put with Scagnetti on Monday and that they'd take care of Max."
"Hmm.." Sam said, spooning some ice cream into her mouth. "And did they?"
He nodded. "Angell called me to spread the word. You know how she likes to gossip sometimes. Max was demoted back down to a uniform. And placed on desk duty for who knows how long."
"Really?" she arched an eyebrow and wished she could say that she felt bad. She didn't.
"That's the word. Sinclair apparently ripped her a new one. Tossing out the whole sexual harassment card. Little harsh from what I heard."
"Well deserved," Sam concluded.
He smirked. "No love lost for you, huh?"
"At this point in time, I wouldn't care if she was shipped back to Canada. I've had a hell of a four days, Don. I have stitches holding my cervix together. I haven't eaten a decent meal since I got here and I'm starving. I'm tired. All I want to do is sleep. And you expect me to be sympathetic?"
"No…I just didn't expect you to be so…I don't know…harsh.."
"Well I'm sure she's just shedding tears over causing me the stress that put me here in the first place," Sam's voice dripped with sarcasm as she leaned over to toss her spoon and empty bowl in the garbage by her bed. "I bet she's just a picture of misery."
Flack knew better than to respond to that. He understood she was tired and weary and despite the meds slowly dripping into her system, that she was still some form of pain and discomfort. He couldn't wait until she was back to normal. Sleeping beside him in the same bed. Her hair tickling his back and her feet and legs brushing up against him. Her breath on his skin. The smell of her. The sound of her breathing.
Just having her there and seeing her there. Even the way she left used tea bags in the sink and the top off the toothpaste. Or her bras hanging off the shower bar in the bathroom and the way she put the toilet paper on backwards. Little things that annoyed him yet let him know she was around.
"You gonna be okay here alone?" he asked her. "If you're mom and Sarge are out with Adam and Gus and I'm at the funeral…"
"I'll be okay," she replied confidently.
"You're not suppose to get out of bed alone. What if you have to go to the bathroom?"
"I'll page the nurse. Besides, I think Mac and Stella are supposed to be stopping by a little later. It will be nice to see them. And I think Mac wants to go over that modified assignments list."
"That is going to kill you," Flack said. "You just know that he's going to park you at a desk."
She pouted dramatically.
"It's either that or go on sick leave and stay home." Flack informed her. "So take your pick."
"Hmmm…I think I'd rather sit on my ass answering a phone and doing paper work than sitting on my ass watching Jerry Springer."
He grinned. "Very good choice," he said.
She yawned noisily and rested her head on his chest and her hand on his stomach. "What time do you have to leave at?" she asked.
"In about forty five minutes."
"If I fall asleep, wake me up before you go? Don't leave without saying goodbye."
"See ya."
"Hmm?"
"It's see ya, remember? We don't say goodbye. That's bad luck. We agreed to never say goodbye. Because goodbye is permanent and I have ever intention on coming back."
"You better come back," she said. "'Cause I will hunt you down if you don't."
Flack chuckled. "I don't doubt that one bit," he said and tightened his hold on her.
She closed her eyes and nestled into him.
He rested his chin on the top of her bed. Breathed in her soft scent. Felt her body rising and falling against him with each breath she took.
Within minutes she was fast asleep. He held her securely, a hand on her stomach. A soft smile curving his lips when he felt his son squirming around inside of her.
"I'm here, buddy," he said quietly. "And I'm not going anywhere."
Carmen couldn't concentrate.
She and Speed had both taken Friday and Saturday off in hopes to finish up last minute packing at her old place and preparations at the new one. They spent the majority of that morning and into early afternoon transporting boxes and clothing and things Carmen didn't trust anyone else with to the new apartment. She had a few select things that she only entrusted to her own care, and would kill someone if they damaged or broke them in transport.
There was the last minute clean up at her apartment to do and little projects she wanted to get down at the new place before things got hectic and crazy during the move on Saturday. She wanted to have her clothes hung in the closet and curtains and blinds hung on the windows and some shelving put up in the living room. And the bedroom furniture that Flack had ordered was due to arrive some time in the afternoon and someone needed to receive the items.
But Carmen's nerves were completely shot. No matter what she attempted, whether it be attaching curtain hooks or scrubbing out the fridge, her hands shook and her head swam with thousands of thoughts and she could not concentrate for more than a few minutes at the time. The same thing had been happening to her at work. She was scatter brained and dropping things and found it impossible to focus.
All she could think about was Sam and the baby. Kieran. Carmen had fallen in love with the name as soon as she heard it. It was different and unique without being over the top. She would have killed Sam if she'd picked something like Apple. What was next? Orange? Banana? Kids were not meant to be named after fruit.
And when Flack had showed her the ultrasound pic the evening following Sam's operation when she and Speed had stopped by to check on things, Carmen had fallen even deeper in love. Sure, there wasn't that much to see other than the standard eyes and nose and mouth and ears and all that black hair, but she could tell just looking at that picture that her nephew would break a lot of hearts one day.
Carmen sighed and sat back on her heels and wiped sweat off of her brow with her forearm. She been scrubbing the inside of the fridge for ten minutes and hadn't seen any result. She wondered just how in hell the previous occupants could be so damn dirty that it nearly took a jackhammer to get the fridge and stove clean, never mind soap and water.
She glanced over her shoulder to where her fiance was on a step ladder installing mini blinds over the small dining room window. She was about to suggest that they take a break and run down to the little deli on the corner for a cold drink and something to eat, but when she went to stretch her leg out, caught the bucket of water and soap and sent it tumbling over.
"For fuck sakes!" she screeched, and in a vain attempt to get up to clean the mess, slipped in the puddle and fell ass first into the water and suds.
Speed, who'd looked over at the sound of the bucket toppling over, tried his best to cover the chuckle that threatened to erupt from his mouth. Seeing his future wife sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, turning bright red and shouting out every curse word she knew, was humorous to him. But it would also be his painful and torturous death if he dared laugh at her.
"You okay?" he asked, using a screwdriver to tighten the track on the blinds.
"No!" she snapped in response, righting the now nearly empty bucket. "I'm not! My ass is soaked and I'll have huge bruises tomorrow! And I'm tired and hungry and I'm worried and…"
Carmen stopped ranting and burst into tears. All the fear and worry and frustration over not being able to do anything for Sam or her godson came pouring out of her. While she knew that there'd be no complications and that her friend was on the mend, she wouldn't feel totally at ease until Sam was out of the hospital. And when the time came for that baby to make his appearance in the world.
Speed put his chores on hold and climbed down from the step ladder and went to his fiancee. Not thinking twice before sitting down in the water right along side of her.
"What are you doing?" Carmen cried through her tears. "You'll get wet!"
"It'll dry," Speed told her, and gathered her slender body into his arms. Holding her tightly as she let all of emotions flow out.
For several minutes they sat there, wrapped in each others arms. The water soaking through their jeans. Until Carmen's crying subsided and she sniffled noisily and drew away from those strong, protective arms.
"You okay?" Speed asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.
She nodded and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her shirt. "It's just….everything. Sam being so sick and coming so close to losing the baby. I just don't think I can take much more. It's not fair that they have to go through all of this."
"Flack said that the operation went well and that she's on the mend," Speed reminded her. "And that the baby is healthy."
"I know. I just can't stop worrying that something else will go wrong. They deserve to be happy, Tim. And so far, everything has gone wrong for them."
"Things are looking up," he assured her. "Now that they're past this whole cervix thing and the operation, it will be smooth sailing for them. I promise."
"I hope you're right," Carmen sighed. "All I know is that I can't wait for this baby to just hurry up and get here."
Speed nodded. "I think we'll all be relieved and ecstatic when that day comes."
"Even you?" Carmen laughed. "Mr Why Bother With the Kid When You Can Have a Cat or a Puppy and Save Loads of Money?"
Speed chuckled. "Even me," he said and kissed her cheek. He checked his watch. Almost three thirty. "Why don't you head to the hospital," he suggested. "I know that's where you really want to be."
"There's still a few things that I need to get done," Carmen said. "I have to finish the fridge and than move on to the stove and I want to get the bathroom clean."
"Those blinds there," he nodded in the direction of the dining room window, "are the last ones I need to get up. So I am more than willing and capable of finishing all the other little things up too."
"I can't leave all that for you to do," she argued.
"It's not that much," he assured her. "I'll be done in no time."
"Tim, I can't let…"
"Yes, you can," he told her. "And you will. Got it?"
She smiled, her green eyes sparkling. "God I love you," she said.
He returned the smile and kissed her. Long and soft. "Go and change into some dry clothes and get out of here," he told her. "I know it's killing you not to be with Sam. And you should be with her. She's your best friend and she'd do the same thing for you."
"She would," Carmen agreed. "And I don't like the thought of her being alone for too long. Flack had that funeral to go to and I know her parents are out with Gus and Adam."
"Go," he insisted.
She kissed him softly, than struggled to her feet.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," Carmen told him as she stood up.
"Die of loneliness," he said, only half joking.
"That's exactly it," she agreed, and breezed out of the kitchen.
Join the club, he thought and got up from the soggy floor. He grabbed a couple rolls of paper towels from the package on the kitchen counter and unravelled them before dropping them onto the puddle. He was on his hands and knees, attempting to clean the quickly spreading mess when a loud knock came to the apartment door.
He sighed and stood up and headed through the kitchen to answer, wiping his hands on his wet thighs. Thankful he'd brought along a change of clothes. Although he had planned on wearing them the following morning to do the big move. After he and Carmen spend a wild night on the mattress on the floor in her new bedroom. The thought of that made him grin as he unlocked the dead bolt and yanked open the door.
"Can I help you?" he asked the young man in the hallway. He was clad in a simple grey t-shirt and a ball cap that read Allied Transport and Delivery across it and carried a clipboard.
"I'm looking for a…" he referred to the clipboard. "Carmen Devine."
"Because….?" Speed prodded.
"Delivery," the kid stated.
"What's going on?" Carmen asked as she approached the door, zipping up the hoodie jacket that was part of the off white Lu Lu Lemon yoga outfit she'd changed into. Sam was a massive fan of the comfortable clothing and had gotten Carmen addicted as well.
"Are you Carmen Devine?" the delivery man asked.
"I am," she replied, pulling her hair from the back of her jacket as she stepped alongside of Speed.
"Were you expecting a delivery?" Speed asked curiously.
"Other than that bedroom furniture Flack ordered, no. And that's not arriving for another couple of hours. They confirmed a little while ago."
"This is something bigger than bedroom furniture, m'am," the young man held out his clipboard and pulled a pen out from behind his ear and clicked it open. "Can you print here, and sign here?" he use the pen to point to the different spots.
"Just exactly what am I signing and printing for?" Carmen asked, doing as he asked.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys that he dropped onto the clipboard. "You're new car," he said matter of factly.
"My what?" she asked.
"Car. It's not exactly new. Only a year old though. Barely any miles on it, Fully loaded. It's a beauty if I do say so myself."
"Car?" Carmen asked, needing some clarification.
"Chevy Malibu to be exact," he told her. "Black. Sweet as hell. Eight cylinder. Moon roof. Heated seats."
"You're telling me someone sent me a car?" Carmen's head was swimming. "Who would send me a car?"
The young man took the clipboard back and flipped through several pages before finding the one he wanted. "Well we brought it down from Phoenix, but the delivery address is a 1398 Jefferson here in New York City. No apartment number."
"That's Flack's address," Speed said to Carmen. "Flack bought you a car?"
"No," the young man shook his head. "Last name isn't Flack. Person who delivered it is a Zack Tanner."
"What?" Carmen was stunned. "I didn't even know him. And he died months ago."
"That's the name," he said, showing her the proof.
Carmen closed her eyes briefly, gathering her thoughts. She opened her eyes and looked at Speed. A moment of clarity hitting her. "Samantha," she said.
"How would she have money to buy you a car?" Speed asked. "And why put it in Zack's name?"
"Remember when Zack's sister showed up unexpectedly? Well Sam told me not long ago that his sister was here to tell her that Sam had been left Zack's entire estate and some personal effects. I was the only one who knew and I vowed to keep it to myself until she was ready to tell people. One of those personal effects must have been a car. That's the only explanation."
"How'd you even know she was here?" Speed asked the young man. "And the delivery date says for tomorrow."
"This was the secondary address we were given and we managed to get a head start on the road. There was no answer at the first address so we came here," he yanked a handful of papers from the back of the pile and held them out to Carmen. "This is yours. Proof of ownership and registration."
"This is insane," Carmen breathed, taking the papers and scanning them. Tears threatened once more.
"My partner is just unloading it from the flat bed," the delivery man said. "If you'd like to come down and take a look."
Carmen nodded and drew in a shaky breath. "I'd like that very much," she said.
And than I am going to that hospital and either hugging and kissing Samantha Ross or strangling her.
He stood by the side of the bed and watched her sleep. Ignoring the sights of the tubes and wires that seemed to suffocate her petite frame, he concentrated instead on her face. The way her long, dark eyelashes rested on her pale, smooth skin. The slight rosiness and smile on her delicate lips. She was as beautiful now as she was nearly sixteen years ago. Her hair was shorter and she'd gained weight. Her face was fuller now. Healthy looking despite her stay in the hospital. A lot had changed since she was a young, vivacious and free spirited girl hanging out with the tough crowd, trying to make a name for herself on the streets and earn respect despite her tiny size. No one ever took her seriously. Until someone pissed her off and she laid a beating of a lifetime on them. She was small and tough. A force to be reckoned with.
When he'd heard after many years that she'd come back to town, there'd be no doubt in his mind that he had to see her. It was fate. All that time had past and many girlfriends had come and gone yet he couldn't get her out of his mind. He'd been surprised when he'd heard what she'd done with her life. A masters degree in forensics and a career as a Crime Scene Investigator. Last thing he ever expected from a girl that once spent a week in juvenile detention for boosting a car -one of her claims to fame and her greatest talent at fifteen- and her countless run ins with store security for shop lifting and vandalism was to hear she'd become a cop. But than, the last thing people expected from a guy that once packed heat and ran drugs and spent time in lock up was that he'd gone on to be a Wall Street player.
She murmured in her sleep and shifted slightly in the bed. Her head falling to the side and her face turning towards him. She didn't stir.
He moved closer to the bed and leaned over the railing. Tenderly pushing her hair away from her forehand before cupping her cheek softly, his thumb trailing over her cheek.
"Donnie.." she mumbled and turned her face into the hand stroking her cheek. Her eyes suddenly snapping open when she realized that that was not what her future husband's skin felt like. Nor did Flack smell like whoever was standing by her bed. It startled her and she woke immediately.
"Evan!"? she nearly shrieked and sat up quickly, moving to get away from that hand. Too abruptly. She felt a slight twinge of pain at the sight of her stitches.
"Good afternoon, sleeping beauty," he said with a warm smile.
"What the hell?" she asked, slightly disoriented from sleep and medication. "What are you doing here?"
"It's been a long time, Samantha. Aren't you surprised to see me?"
"Yes. Now tell me what you're doing here."
"I've been trying to get a hold of you for over a month now," Evan told her, putting down the railing and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "You haven't returned any of the messages I left on your cell or at your work."
"Well I've been busy," Sam informed him, moving closer to the railing on the opposite side of the bed.
Evan glanced down at her stomach. "Apparently," he said.
"What are you doing here?" she repeated.
"I stopped by your work," he said. "One of your colleagues told me that you were here and that you had an operation. Is everything okay? What was wrong with you?"
"It's none of your business," Sam told him. "And don't give me that crap that someone at the lab told you. I know that you've been talking to Erica. Probably back fooling around with her too. A leopard doesn't change its spots."
Evan sighed. "That's a long time ago."
"It is. So do me a favor and let the past sixteen years go and get out of my room. Things change. People change. And I'm not feeling well and just want to be left alone."
He held his hands up in self defence. "I'm only here to talk, Samantha. Not to cause you or your baby any problems."
"You shouldn't even be here," she said. "You have no business being here. You and I haven't had anything to do with each other for sixteen years nearly."
"You took off for Arizona," Evan reminded her.
"My mom got re-married. My step dad thought it was best for me and Adam to be out of New York City. And you know what? He was right. It did both me and my brother a world of good."
"You could have kept in touch with me."
Sam laughed. "Oh my God. You honestly can't be serious. You forced me to have sex with you, than you broke up with me when I wouldn't put up any more, went to my cousin and started all kinds of rumours about me. Screw you, Evan. Get the hell out of my room. Before I call security and have you removed."
"Samantha, I am not here to cause you issues. I'm just here to try and make amends with you."
"Amends? Why?"
He went to lay his hand over hers.
Sam yanked her hand away and moved as far over in the bed as she could. "What do you want from me, Evan? I'm hardly in the mood or physical condition to put up with any shit. I've just had an operation. And I'm five months pregnant and the father of my baby should be here soon and if you knew what was good for you, you'd just leave."
"I only want to talk to you," Evan told her.
"About what? We haven't spoken in a long time. What could you possibly have to say to me?"
"Like I was saying. I am here to make amends."
"For what?" Sam asked, than yanked her hand away when he reached for it once again. "Do not fucking touch me," she hissed. "You want to talk, than sit there and talk. But don't touch me ever again."
"Judging by the looks of you and your condition, it doesn't seem like you have a problem with men touching you at all."
Sam's eyes narrowed and darkened. "Get the fuck out of my room," she ordered.
"I come in peace," he insisted. "I really do. That was an asshole thing for me to say.."
"Yeah, it was," Sam agreed. "But I've dealt with bigger assholes. So leave."
"Would you just hear me out, Samantha? You were always bad at that. Jumping to conclusions and getting all defensive and not giving people a chance to get a word in edge wise. I just have a few things I'd like to say to you. That I need to say. Just give me a few minutes."
She eyed him suspiciously and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine," she said. "A few minutes. But than you have to leave and I don't want you ever showing up here or trying to contact me again."
"Fair enough. I want you to know that I'm in a twelve step program. For alcohol and drugs."
She snorted. "Why am I not surprised?"
"And part of the program is seeking someone out from our past that we did wrong and making amends with them. And when I heard you had come back to New York City, I knew it was fate. That you were that one person I needed to get in contact with and set everything right."
"So you're here to apologize for forcing me to have sex with you and than fucking my cousin and than spreading bullshit rumours about me. Fine. I accept your apology. Now get out."
"I really am sorry, Samantha. For all the pain I caused you. I was young and stupid and immature and I never meant to hurt you."
She nodded, contemplating his words. "We were all young and stupid," she said.
"Apology accepted?"
"I already said that. Yes. I accept your apology. Now I think it's best if you left."
"I was kind of hoping I could stick around for a bit. Catch up on old times."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said, relegating herself to the fact that he wasn't going away that easily and she had no strength or energy to fight with him. "Where do you want me to start?"
Mac caught sight of the familiar face as he and Stella slipped from the company truck Mac had just parked in the short stay unit. They were nowhere near the end of another long, tedious shift, but Mac wanted to get work issues sorted out with Samantha and Stella had wanted to come along for a short visit. It was hard getting in a proper hour or so to stop by and check up on Sam and the baby with all the long, crazy hours they worked, so Stella seized every opportunity she got.
Flack was cutting across the short stay lot. He'd parked at the very back. The underground was full yet again and the parking attendants in short stay were beginning to look the other way when he used the lot. The funeral for Brendan Doyle had ended an hour ago. It had been intense and emotional. It had broken Flack's heart to watch Doyle's young wife, clad in black, sobbing uncontrollably in the front row of the grave side service. In a moment of sheer selfishness, all Flack had thought about at that moment was what Samantha would have looked like and felt like had it been her in that front row.
He'd gone home and packed away that dress uniform and was now clad in a pair of baggy jeans and a simple button top shirt and a ball cap. Anxious to have the day behind him.
"You here to be the bearer of bad news, Mac?" Flack asked, falling in step alongside of Stella.
"I'm hoping my ideas go over a little better than that," the older man replied. "I know she's not going to be too impressed with the idea of sitting behind a desk until she's back from maternity leave."
"She's going to be mighty pissed," Flack said with a chuckle. "Being here and confined to a bed has already done a number on her. She's liable really snap when you tell her she's going to park herself on her ass for the next four months."
"I was thinking we could try an approach that would help the two of us," Mac said. "With business booming over at the lab and running myself ragged between working out in the field and in the lab and trying to balance obligations to the department with the media and public, I've been wearing myself thin. I was hoping that Sam would agree to act as a liason of sorts between me and the public and the brass."
"Like a secretary?" Flack asked.
"I prefer to call it public relations," Mac told the detective. "Sam's very bubbly and likeable. People take well to her. She'd be the perfect person to handle things like that. And it would be a big help to me to have someone run files back and forth and answer phone calls and book appointments."
"So like a secretary," Flack repeated.
"Public relations," Mac corrected. "I thought maybe she'd like that better than just sitting and working at a computer and filing all day long. Still keeps her in the safety of the lab, but gives her a little more excitement."
Flack nodded as he considered it. "I think as long as you give her a little more to do than just sit around, she shouldn't have a problem with it."
"How have things been?" Stella asked. "Since the operation?"
"Not bad," Flack replied. "She's still having some discomfort. Especially when she moves suddenly or too much. But I guess that's too be expected. She's got her appetite back but the doctors are slowly allowing her back onto a regular diet. And she's off the catheter. Happy day for her when that happened. She needs help getting to and from the bathroom, but she's getting there."
"And the baby?" Stella asked.
Flack beamed. "He's doing great. They check on him every day and we get to listen to his heart beat. They only use the Doppler thing because they say too many ultrasounds can be harmful to him. But his heart beat is strong and last scan showed he was moving around like crazy. Sam feels him a lot more now. Even I can feel him sometimes if she's really quiet and still."
Stella smiled.
"It's an amazing thing," Flack said. "Hearing his heart beat and seeing and feeling him move around. I've never experienced anything like it. To know that something I helped created is inside of her," he shook his head. "It's surreal."
"I never thought I'd see the day that your face and your eyes lit up like that about anything," Stella commented. "It's an amazing thing to see, Flack."
He shrugged his broad shoulders and sighed. "What can I say? I'm a changed man."
While Stella stopped off at the cafeteria to pick up some drinks and something quick for them to eat, Mac and Flack headed up to Sam's room. They talked about the altercation between Max and Sinclair and Max's demotion and send off to her new 'home'. Mac didn't mention that Gerrard had approached him that morning and asked him to write a letter of recommendation to be shown to the brass and placed in Flack's employment jacket. Or that the reason Gerrard had asked for such was the upcoming placement of Don Flack Jr on the promotion grid and the suggestion that he take the Sargeant's exam in mid December.
They had just reached Sam's room when they heard an unfamiliar male voice coming from inside. And Sam's light laughing. She hadn't laughed in a long time it seemed, and while it was refreshing to hear, they couldn't help but wonder who was the source of her cheeriness.
"Who the hell are you?" Flack asked, when he stepped into the room and saw the young man in the expensive Italian wool suit and silk tie and Bruno Magli shoes parked on the edge of his soon to be wife's bed.
"Don," Sam reached for his hand, looking slightly worried that there'd be an altercation. "This is an old friend of mine."
"Yeah?" he asked, and took her hand and stepped to the side of the bed to lean over and kiss her. "What kind of old friend?"
"Someone from a long time ago," she told him. "Hi, Mac," she greeted her boss as he kissed her cheek softly and patted her stomach gently.
"You look much better," Mac said. "How are you feeling?"
She shrugged. "A little bit of this, a little bit of that."
"That's to be expected," he said.
"You never answered my question," Flack said to the young man. Keeping a firm, almost possessive grip on Sam's hand. "Who the hell are you?"
"Who are you?" Evan responded.
"Don, this is Evan Lucerno. The friend that I told you about," Sam stressed the word friend. "Evan, this is my fiance Detective Don Flack and my boss at the lab, Detective Mac Taylor."
Neither man made to shake Evan's hand. Nor did Evan move to get up and do likewise.
"Flack and Mac, huh?" Evan smirked. "Sounds like a comedy troupe. You guys ever think about taking your act on the road?"
"Only thing we'll be taking on the road is your ass," Flack said. "Straight out the door."
"Lucerno?" Mac asked. "You wouldn't happen to be related to a Johnny Lucerno, would you?"
"My older brother," Evan replied. "Why?"
"You remember Johnny Lucerno, don't you, Flack?" Mac asked. "The Tanglewood case. Paul Montenassi. The kid with the fake tattoo that Sonny Sassone beat to death with the Mickey Mantle bat in Central Park. Montenassi clocked this Lucerno kid with the bat in hopes of gaining entrance into Tanglewood."
"You mean the wise ass Pelham Bay punk we busted up at the New Rochelle Mall?" Flack inquired. "One that tried to hit on Stel with some lame pick up line about the ladies digging his hair?"
Mac nodded.
Flack smirked and looked down at Evan. "Your brother had a smart mouth. I knocked a ball cap off his head when you called me and Detective Taylor here homos."
"Maybe my brother was just a great judge of character," Evan said coolly.
Sam grabbed Flack's hand even tighter when he made a move as if to clock Evan one. "He just came to apologize for some things," she said, turning her golden eyes up at her future husband. "About the way certain things were handled a long time ago."
"Little too late for that, don't ya think?" Flack asked Evan. "You wait sixteen years to cough up an I'm sorry? Or were you hoping once you heard your ex girl was in town that you'd sneak your way in. Charm her with your money and your professional status."
"I was a little disappointed to hear she wasn't available," Evan admitted. "But now that I've seen who she's with, I'm even more disappointed in her."
"Donnie…" Sam had to yank him back towards her when he made a threatening move towards Evan. "He's not here to cause problems."
Evan calmly stood and smoothed down his pants and buttoned up his jacket. "It's okay, Samantha," he assured her. "I need to get going anyway."
"I think that's a damn good idea," Flack told him.
"Maybe I'll stop by again," Evan said to Samantha, ignoring the big detective.
"One visit is enough," she said. "It was nice to see you again and I accepted your apology. But that's it. I don't want to see you again, Evan. I have a life. And I love my life and whose in my life and nothing is worth jeopardizing that. Not even five zeros in your annual salary."
Flack's hand relaxed around hers a little. Feeling a surge of love and pride go through him at her words.
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Samantha," Evan said. "Wall Street is a nice life to get involved in."
"For some maybe. But I prefer a man who wears a bullet proof vest and carries handcuffs and a gun. That's my weakness. And the man I have…you couldn't even come close to him."
Evan smiled slightly, than turned to look at Flack. "I hope you realize what you have in that girl," he said as he headed for the door.
Flack nodded slowly. "I'm starting to," he said.
Evan smirked and left the door, closing the door softly behind him.
Flack turned to Samantha and smiled down at her. And even with Mac standing there, leaned over the bed and embraced her and kissed her long and soft.
He was starting to realize just what they had together. And that there wasn't a damn thing he wouldn't do to make sure they kept it.
Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Next chap will jump forward some and we'll soon to be getting into the drama with Matthew! And of course, the promotion will soon follow! And the birth of baby Kieran!