DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND BABY KIERAN
SPECIAL THANKS TO APHINA, BRTTMCLV AND HOPE4SALL FOR ENCOURAGING ME TO CONTINUE. THANKS TO THEM, MOB CONTINUES.
Not quite there yet
"The sky knows when its time to snow,
Don't need to teach a seed to grow.
It's just another ordinary miracle today.
Life is like a gift they say
Wrapped up for you everyday;
Open up and find a way
To give some of your own.
Isn't it remarkable?
Like every time a rain drop falls,
It's just another ordinary miracle today.
Birds in winter have their fling
But always make it home by spring.
It's just another ordinary miracle today.
When you wake up everyday
Please don't throw your dreams away;
Hold them close to your heart
Cause we're all a part
Of the ordinary miracle."
-Ordinary Miracle, Sarah McLachlan
Samantha winced and inhaled sharply as a flurry of activity in her stomach nearly took her breath away. A single, powerful kick below the ribs caused her to grimace and lay a hand on the area and issuing a plea to her unborn son to take it easy in there. Her internal organs were not soccer balls and these love kicks and taps were damn painful at times.
Yet she wouldn't give all the discomfort and sleepless nights and excessive heart burn and exhaustion up for anything in the world. The miracle of life had been achieved and a beautiful, innocent new life was flourishing and growing inside of her. She was amazed every day at the sheer wonder of what was taking place. It had been more than a month since she'd been through hell and back and feared she was going to lose their baby, and there'd been no looking back once she'd left the hospital. She'd been in for a week and showed no complications from the surgery.
After another week recuperating at home under the watchful, protective and loving eyes of her parents, they'd gone back to Arizona and Sam had returned to work. At first she hadn't been too thrilled at the thought of being Mac's secretary. He preferred to call it a mixture between a personal assistant and a liaison between the lab, the department and the public. But as she settled into her own office and she worked closely alongside of her boss -learning more from just watching and listening to him than school could ever teach her- she found herself actually enjoying organizing his hectic schedule and keeping his paper work and files in order and running the occasional errand downstairs to the ME's office.
What she enjoyed most was the hours. Strictly eight to four every day. Monday to Friday. Occasionally she snuck a few hours in on the weekend and caught up on work from home. With the money from both Zack's estate and the successful sale of the house in Phoenix now in the back, financial troubles were behind them. At least for the moment. She had paid off her own student loans as well as Adam's. She'd abolished all credit card debt on both her and Flack's part.
She'd bought the earrings for Stella that she had seen at Tiffany's months ago and had given Speed enough money to put a sizable amount on the new Ducati he planned on purchasing in the spring. Hawkes had been the beneficiary of an expensive set of medical journals Sam had come across in her visit to an antique store. Danny and Erica she'd sent on a week trip to Florida. And Mac was now the proud owner of a golden retriever puppy he had name Sable. She was twelve weeks old and ate him and Stella out of house and home and drank out of the toilet and slept on the bed at their week and snored like a human. But Mac adored her and no one had ever seen him that engrossed in anything outside of work.
Since Flack had moved in officially almost three weeks ago, Carmen had been spending the majority of her time at Speed's. She knew that after the ordeal they had had, Sam and Flack needed, and deserved privacy. The opportunity to grow as a couple. As a family. Flack had found out shortly after he returned to work following Sam's operation that he'd been placed on the promotion grid and would be taking the Sargeant's exam in the middle of December. Things were slowly and steadily coming together. Personal wise, their relationship had never been stronger. It was based on mutual love and respect and trust. They communicated more and felt closer together following the scare with the baby. All wedding plans had been completed. Not that there was much, but the wedding bands had been purchased and the judge booked and outfits picked out and paid for and three days off at Christmas guaranteed for both of them.
Sam sat on the couch. Her legs stretched out and her feet placed on a pillow on top of the coffee table. Wearing a teal coloured satin tunic style blouse that tied around the back and a pair of black maternity dress pants. At almost six and a half months, she was carrying large and all out front and low. A neighbour had commented that all women who were expecting boys carried that exact same way. Sam didn't know if that was true or just an old wives tale. All she knew was that the next two and a half months could not come soon enough. She was ready to go. More out of excitement than discomfort.
It was quarter to six in the evening. Outside it was already dark and blustery. Winter was fast approaching. Inside the heat was cranked and she felt warm and cozy as she sat there watching a movie and eating the remains of a salad that had come with the pasta dinners Flack had brought with him on the way home from work.
"What's in this gift bag?" Flack called from the bedroom.
"It's from Danny," Sam responded. "He said he was out and saw an outfit for Kieran he couldn't resist. I haven't even opened it yet. Go ahead and see what it is."
She heard the crinkling of the gift bag and than the rustling of tissue paper. Followed by her future husband chuckling to himself.
"What's so funny?" she asked. "It's not one of those horrid fluffy bunny costumes is it?"
"No," Flack assured her, and joined her in the living room, holding a tiny, long sleeved black onesie to his chest. Facing away from her. "Check this out," he said, and turned the outfit around for her to see.
Written on the front, in red letters, was LOCK UP YOUR DAUGHTERS.
Sam laughed. "Leave it to Danny," she said.
Flack plopped down alongside of her and held the onesie to her rounded stomach. "I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "Might be too small for him already."
"Screw you!" she said jokingly and elbowed him playfully. "Stop making fun of my big belly. Thanks to you, I've already put on nearly forty pounds."
"Thanks to me?"
"Yeah…thanks to you and your demon sperm."
He smiled and laid his hand lightly on her tummy and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. He was amazed by her. By the whole pregnancy. It was fascinating watching her grow larger with child. His child. It was magical being able to feel his son kick and squirm in earnest now. Sam possessed a beautiful, almost angelic glow to her. Both she and Kieran were healthy and she was the happiest she'd been in a long time.
"I think you're beautiful," he told her.
"I think you're mental," she said. "I never pictured you to a guy that gets turned on by pregnant women."
"It's not just random pregnant women," Flack corrected her. "Only one. You. You're the only one that's having my baby. That's what makes the whole thing incredibly sexy. Knowing that I played a part in getting you into the condition you are. That's what turns me on."
"Well than you best be sitting on the other side of the room because there's no time for that. We have to leave in half an hour."
"I know," he said with a dramatic sigh. "What are you watching?"
"The Notebook. I was in the mood for some romance."
"Haven't we watched that about a dozen times?" he asked in dismay.
"I've watched in half a dozen times. You've fallen asleep half way through six times."
"'Cause it's a chick flick. Now put something on where there's lots of blood shed and swearing and you've got my attention."
"Don't you get enough of that in real life?" she asked. "You see that every day at work."
"Yeah…but it's nice to watch something that you're not personally involved in. Watch something where the characters are even more fucked up than you are. Makes me glad that there's someone out there with crappier problems than me. It's nice to realize things could always be a hell of a lot worse."
"That's a damn scary thought," Sam said. "Considering the last few months we've had."
He nodded in agreement and rubbed her stomach in slow, smooth circles. Turned his head to the side and smiled at her. "But we made it," he said. "The three of us. We made it and we can make it through anything. Me, you, and…" he laughed as the baby issued a strong, sharp kick to his hand. "Our future soccer star in there."
"I just wish he'd lay off my ribs and my bladder," Sam said, grimacing. "That does not tickle. Nor does that!" she nearly shrieked when another blow caught her in the area of her navel. "Calm your son down, Donald. Tell him to behave himself. He's abusing me here. You're the voice of authority in this family."
Flack leaned over and placed a hand on either side of her stomach and his nose to her navel. "Listen Kieran," he said in that deep, authoritative voice. "Be a good boy. Your mom's gone through enough hell. Take it easy on her. I'll even buy you a car when you're eighteen if you're nice."
Another strong kick to area below his left hand, followed by a very pronounced rolling motion.
"He's into the bribery already," Sam laughed. "I think he's settling down for a nap. You just know he'll take you up on that and be expecting a BMV."
"Ferrari all the way," Flack said, and pressed a kiss to her stomach. "Good boy," he said to his son. "Take it easy for awhile and than keep her up all night like you've done three nights in a row."
"God, don't give him any ideas," Sam moaned.
Their son was proving to be a bit of a nighthawk. Three nights in a row, starting at eleven thirty and finally stopping at three thirty, Kieran had done nothing but move around. Not the frantic, out of control movements that doctors said could indicate he was in distress, but steady, normal movements and kicking that made it impossible for Sam to sleep. She had grown accustomed to sleeping on her side with a pillow between her knees, and she slept with her stomach pressed to Flack's back. The activity inside of her had been so intense it had even woken him up.
"I was thinking," Flack said, sitting up. "We should really buy the rest of the things he needs now. We're close to seven months and it's making me nervous that we don't have things finished yet."
"We've got all the furniture we need," Sam reminded him. "And a closet full of clothes and an unbelievable amount of toys."
"I know. But we don't have a stroller yet. That thing you mentioned a long time ago. At Toys R Us. The thing with the car seat."
"Travel system."
"Yeah. We don't have that or a baby bag or a monitor or a diaper thing or a bassinet or a play pen or high chair."
"Slow down, Donnie," she laughed. "He won't be using a high chair for a while. And we live in an apartment and I don't see the reason in an apartment to have a monitor."
"Are you kidding? I wanna be able to hear him at all times. See him even. I was thinking getting this one monitor here…" leaning forward, Flack grabbed a Babies R Us catalogue resting on the coffee table and flipped it open to a page he'd personally marked. "It's called an Angel Care Monitor," he told Sam, showing her the picture. "It comes with this sensor pad that sits under the sheet of the mattress and sets up a warning if it senses the baby has stopped breathing or moving. And it also comes with a little camera that sits in the crib or on it somewhere and broadcasts the picture to a monitor that we can keep with us."
She frowned and arched an eyebrow. "You're joking, right?"
"Seriously. It says right here that that's what it does."
"No. I mean, you're kidding. About wanting something like that."
Flack shrugged. "I just figured if we need a monitor than we might as well go all out and get one that does everything."
"Donnie, we don't need a monitor. Of any kind. We live in a small two bedroom apartment with paper thin walls. We'll be able to hear him stirring and crying in his room even if we're out here or in the kitchen. He's going to make noise. There's no way we'll be able to miss him."
"But what if he's throwing up and choking on it and we don't hear it?" Flack countered.
"You can hear someone throwing up. Even a baby."
"Wouldn't you just like to have it for extra security? I mean, if he makes a noise we can just check him on the screen and see if he's okay instead of going into the room and checking on him and running the risk of waking him up completely."
"I just find having a video camera on our baby a little creepy," Sam said. "A little too voyeuristic for me. I don't mind just a regular old monitor, but nothing that extravagant or obsessive."
"Fine," he said with a sigh. "We'll just get a basic one. But personally, that other one is pretty cool."
She grinned. "You just wanted it because it's a little toy for yourself," she said with a laugh.
"I will neither admit or deny that," he said, flipping the catalogue closed and tossing it on the coffee table. He yawned and stretched noisily. "If I can't get that, I think I'll go and buy myself a Wii."
"If that's what you want," Sam told him. "But I hate for you to spend all that money and not have time to use it because you're swamped with taking care of a newborn and working."
Flack smirked. "That was so subtle, Samantha."
"What?" she asked innocently, struggling to get off the couch.
He stood and held out a hand and helped her to her feet and picked up her dirty dishes. "That was a sly way I've telling me there's no way in hell you're going to let me buy something like that."
"I would never, ever even suggest you can't buy something you really want," Sam told him, leaning against the door frame to the kitchen, watching as he rinsed her plates and laid them in the sink to be cleaned later.
"But…."
"But we already have an Xbox and a Game Cube and you have a PSP. Why do we need a Wii?"
He shrugged. "Because Danny and your brother have one."
"That's it Don, follow the cool crowd," she teased. "And I was just gently reminding you that it's going to be tough work for both of us when Kieran finally gets here. I know you're taking a couple weeks off, but you're going to feel it when you do go back to work. And let's face it. Danny and Adam have all the time in the world for a Wii and whatever else toys they buy. Neither of them have kids."
"I know," he said and sighed. "But a Wii could essentially be a benefit for all of us."
"Yeah? How?"
"Look how physical people are playing some of the games. We could get some of the real challenging ones and you could lose all that baby weight in no time. And I could shed the sympathy pounds I've managed to put on."
She smiled. "I love how you try and reason with me."
He came to the doorway and laid his hands on her hips and kissed her. "One more toy won't hurt," he told her. "I can even buy you a couple toys if you want." he waggled his eyebrows at her.
"You're dirty!" she scolded him, slapping his chest and pulling away from him. "I'm going to brush my teeth and than we can leave."
"I can you know," he said as she headed from the kitchen. "I don't mind. Buying you stuff like that. We can incorporate it in somewhere."
"You do your job just fine, Don," she responded. "And anyways, who says I don't keep my toys secretly hidden from you so when you're working nights I'm not lonely."
He smirked. "Damn, Samantha. Don't hold out on me. That I would kill to see."
"Sorry," she laughed. "It's just for me."
He sighed dramatically.
"And for you to fantasize about," she added, the bathroom door clicking shut behind her.
Flack grinned broadly.
Their sex life would never be boring. And that was more than fine with him.
Danny Messer, his ass parked in an rickety metal chair in half circle taken up by twelve other men with note books and pens in hand, glanced around at the cold, white brick walls that surrounded the group. The fluorescent lights beaming down from the high ceiling. The small room, located in the basement of the YMCA, was no more comfortable and welcoming than one of the interrogation rooms at work.
At the front, a heavy set, slightly balding man in an argyle sweater and corduroy pants was plugging in a DVD/TV combo. Moments before, he'd come in with a fold-able presentation board that he'd parked in an empty chair and handfuls of pamphlets and pads of paper and pens he'd dropped on a second chair.
"I don't know, Flack," Danny said, glancing at his best friend who sat next to him, sipping a take out cup of coffee. "When you said a guy's night out, this is not what I had in mind. I was thinking a few beers, some greasy food, a game playing on the tv and a few games of pool. Not this."
"I bought you Starbucks," Flack responded. "Isn't that enough expensive for tonight?"
"This is just…I don't know…this is just weird…a parenting class? I ain't expecting a baby. Why am I here? Unless you know something about Erica that I don't."
"I needed some kind of moral support," the detective said. "When they said last week we'd be doing a dads only class and watching birthing videos and what not, I knew I couldn't get through it alone."
"So I'm here to hold your hand and the puke bucket when things get too intense," Danny teased, and picking up his coffee cup from the floor, took a long sip.
"Exactly," Flack agreed. "This is what to expect during labour and how to help your partner manage the pain without needing medical relief. And for Sam, that's the big thing. That tattoo on her back, as sexy as it is, means no epidural. So I need to be able to help her deal with the contractions naturally."
Danny laughed. "Knocking her out cold is the way to go."
"I've considered it," Flack said. "But she was against it."
"Good evening, gentlemen," the man in the argyle sweater stood in front of the small group and spoke in a loud, commanding voice. "My name is Robert Perkins. I'm with the YMCA and I teach parenting and birthing classes. Specializing in dads only sessions. I have six kids myself so I have been through child birth many, many times."
"Six kids?" Danny whispered to Flack, whose eyes widened and he whistled lowly at the number. "Who in the hell in their right mind has six kids this day and age? You and Sam gonna have that many?"
Flack held up four fingers. "That's the cut off," he said.
"Four? That's only two away from half a dozen! What is wrong with you?"
"The first thing we will do," Perkins continued. "Is fill out name tags and than introduce ourselves to the group."
"Feels like AA," Danny commented, as a stack of name tags was passed around the group.
"How would you know?" Flack asked. "You a regular?"
"Want me to be your sponsor?" Danny retorted.
"You wound me, Messer," Flack said, scrawling just his last name on the tag before affixing it to his chest.
"Come on," his friend snorted. "Ya gotta put Don or Donnie on there." Reaching over, he wrote DON on top of the Flack and Jr underneath the last name.
"You're a shit," Flack complained. Than listened, with feigned interest, as the men in the group around him introduced themselves and gave brief synopsis' of their lives. There was a couple of cabbies, a jail guard, a bus driver, a sanitation worker and two accountants before him. "My name's Flack," he said when it was his turn. "And I'm a homicide detective."
Eyes widened. Heads nodded.
"And I'm Danny and I'm just here for the free snacks," the CSI said, getting a chuckle from the entire group. "Seriously, I'm a crime scene investigator and I'm here because the detective here is my best friend and he can't stomach this kind of thing and he needs someone to pick him up off the ground when he faints."
"Trust me gentlemen," Perkins said. "Child birth is not that bad."
Flack snorted. "Yeah…right…" he muttered.
Sam, who was in the next room with Carmen working on breathing techniques and relaxation exercises, had forced him to watch A Baby Story on The Learning Channel many a time. And while the show didn't show anything explicit from the waist down, the sounds of the women screaming and crying in sheer agony had both horrified and nauseated him. And the shocked, disgusted and terrified looks on their partners' faces had been enough to firmly argue his reasons for not wanting to be in the delivery room.
"Last week in the partners class, I know that you all learned about the first stage of labour," Perkins continued, referring to a note pad in his hands. "To recap, the first stage consists of three distinct phases. The latent phase which is the longest and least painful. Where the cervix can stretch and thin out over a period and the woman feel very little to no contractions whatsoever. Than, there's the active phase , which is marked by strong, painful contractions that tend to occur around three or four minutes apart and last up to a minute or so. The cervix dilates to around 7cm," he paused as the majority of men furiously took notes.
"And than the third and final phase, transition. The contractions become more intense, painful and frequent. It may feel like the contractions are no longer separate but running into each other. The cervix may take around an hour or so to dilate the final 3cm. It is not unusual to feel a strong urge to go to the toilet as the baby's head pushes against the rectum."
"This is why guys can't give birth," Flack declared with a shudder. "'Cause the thought of anything pushing against my rectum, well that would do me in."
"Wimp," Danny said. "I gotta question," he announced, jumping to his feet and hurrying up to the front of the room to grab a pad of paper and a pen. If Flack wasn't going to take things seriously enough to take notes, he was going to do it.
"Questions are always welcome," Perkin enthused.
Danny sat back down and uncapped the pen and set to writing things down. "Now you're talking about the cervix thinning out and stuff like that in this latent phase. Now what if there's incompetent cervix involved? Stitches holding things together and what not. What happens with all that?"
"Well the stitches should be removed at thirty six weeks," the instructor replied.
"Yeah…yeah..but say she goes into labour before the stitches come out? What than?"
"The cervix will thin out and weaken and the pressure of the baby moving into the birth canal and the membranes rupturing should open things up."
"Will it hurt her of the baby?" Danny asked.
"It would be terribly painful, but no. It wouldn't harm her or the baby."
Danny hurriedly jotted everything down. "Okay…thanks…"
"You're a freak," Flack told his best friend.
"The second stage begins when the cervix dilates to around ten centimetres," Perkins said. "The contractions should now be regular and spaced apart, so that your partner can relax between them as best as she can. As each contraction builds to a peak, she may feel the urge to bear down and push. The sensation of the baby moving through the vagina is described as a stretching or burning, particularly as the baby's head crowns. This means the appearance of the head at the vaginal entrance. Once the head has emerged, the delivery staff will turn the body to deliver the shoulders. The rest of the baby will then slip out. The second stage of labour typically lasts around 15 minutes to one hour."
"Fifteen minutes," Flack nodded in approval. "That's what I'm hoping for. Fifteen minutes and that's it. Perfect."
"Couple pushes and boom, done," Danny chimed in.
"The third stage is the delivery of the placenta," the instructor told the small class. "It usually happens between five to thirty minutes afterwards, although there's a small percentage of women whose uterus' fail to deliver and surgery is required."
"That'll be Sam," Flack said. "Just watch. Nothing else has gone normal. She'll be difficult and give me a heart attack by needing another operation. Nothing's ever easy with her."
Videos came next. Educational movies showing women giving birth. The final stages of birth, to be exact. Flack couldn't believe the amount of blood and gore that could accompany something that people often called the most beautiful, amazing thing in the world to see. Watching your child be ushered into the world should be a calming, out of the world experience, not something with enough nastiness to rival any horror movie out there.
He cleared his throat noisily and turned away, his forearm over his mouth as he fought back bile. A couple of the other expectant fathers grimaced and looked away briefly, but beside Flack, Danny Messer was wide eyed in interest as he took extensive notes.
Perkins paused the video. "After your son or daughter is delivered, if there are no complications or worries, they will be placed on their mother's chest for brief bonding. The nurse will than take the baby and ask you if you would like to cut the cord."
"What's that like?" Danny asked. "Does it hurt the baby?"
"It's like cutting through a stiff rubber hose," Perkins answered. "And no it doesn't hurt the baby. The baby will than be measured and weighed and have its vitals checked. If the baby is given a clean bill of health, they will be wrapped in blanket and brought to the parents. Some mothers actually breastfeed for the first time in the delivery room."
"What if you're planning a water delivery?" Danny inquired.
"Same procedures will apply. Afterwards, comes the third stage…" Perkins pressed play on the television once again. "The delivery of the placenta."
Flack glanced back at the screen and instantly regretted it. He physically wretched and looked away. "Oh my fucking God," he said, taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee to fight back a wave of nausea. "That's just plain fucking nasty. I will take a body in full decomp or a floater that's been in the water for a week over that any day."
"You're such a pussy," Danny declared. "You're never going to last the delivery. You'll either loss your stomach contents halfway through or faint. Or both."
"I can't watch that, Dan-o. I can't. I can't see that. See Sam go through all that pain and suffering and than the baby come out looking like that. And the placenta…I can't do it. I'm not going to do it."
"How you going to get out of it? 'Cause Sam will kill you if you even think about wimping out. And come on, it's not that bad. It's amazing and fascinating."
"You think it's that great, you go in with her," Flack said.
"I'd love to go in and see that. You clear if with her, and I'll play daddy for the whole thing. No problem. Can't believe you. Big, bad, mean homicide detective can't handle child birth? Come on."
"You come on. That's just plain gross and you can't tell me it's not."
Danny shrugged. "Not any worse than some of the things I've seen down on Hammerback's table. And at least this is a human life being brought into the world. Not one that was brutally taken out."
"I'll tell you what," Flack said. "You talk Sam into it and you can go in with her instead of me."
"She'll kill you," Danny declared. "Besides, you'll change your mind."
Flack doubted it. And even a slow painful death seemed a better fate than having to watch THAT.
"This is too weird even for me," Carmen declared, as she sat behind Samantha, a pillow between the two women as her best friend rested against it, legs bent at the knee and wide open.
"Seems more like a sex position than one for giving birth," Sam commented. "I mean, you can have a little bit of foreplay sitting like this."
"You are nothing but one big walking pregnant ball of hormones," Carmen laughed.
"It's gotten even worse in the past three weeks," Sam said.
"Poor Flack. Or should I say lucky Flack."
"Lucky. Very, very lucky. He's never been happier, trust me."
"You know, as much as I don't mind doing this stuff," Carmen said, as she and Sam continued practicing breathing techniques. "I hope it doesn't actually come down to the point where I need to put this stuff to use."
"Anything could happen," Sam reasoned. "The way things have been going, you'll probably end up physically delivering the baby."
"Jesus Christ, Ross," Carmen moaned. "Bite your tongue. I have to try the friendship line somewhere."
"I can't imagine even doing these things during labour," Sam said. "All these weird breathing exercises and stuff. I think by that time I'll be in so much pain that I won't remember anything we learned here. I was like that in college, you know. I'd study and study for a final and when I actually sat down to write the damn thing, I froze and all the information deserted me."
"Well don't say that, because if Flack does has terrible as we are all expecting him to, we at least need you to be in control. And this whole epidural thing.."
"My dad always said I'd regret getting a tattoo. And slowly but surely, I am proving him right yet again. Damn that man for always being the practical, sensible one. Did I tell you the news? About Adam and Gus?"
"Outside of their engagement you mean?" Carmen asked. "What? Don't tell me she's pregnant too. What is going on over at the lab? Is there something in the water? All the engagements. Things come in threes, you know. So there's going to be more pregnant women soon."
"Well it's not Gus," Sam responded. "Not that I know of. I meant the news about how things went so well between her and my parents."
"Really?" Carmen arched an eyebrow. "You mean the Sarge didn't come down heavy handed on her like he did Flack?"
"Sarge loves her. To pieces. And Gus adores him. Can you believe that? I almost shit when Adam told me how well they got along at dinner that night they all went out. Joking around and hogging the conversation. I think Adam was shocked. Because Sarge never likes any one we're dating. I expected him to be a least a little bit nasty. Maybe he's getting old and softening up."
"Something tells me that his grandson in there is what's softening him up," Carmen said.
"Well whatever it is, it's a welcome change. They're even heading to Arizona for Thanksgiving."
"That's something we haven't talked about," Carmen told her best friend. "Thanksgiving. It's quickly approaching. Did you and Flack make plans to go to Mac and Stella's with the rest of the team or are you guys doing a more quiet, personal thing?"
"Don has to work," Sam replied. "Not ifs, ands, or buts. But I might go to Mac's thing. If I'm feeling up to it. Sid and his wife invited me over too. So I'm not sure where I'm going to head."
"Sid?" Carmen asked, arching an eyebrow.
Sam nodded. Since the incident in the hospital when Sid had leant her the good luck quartz rock, he had become somewhat of a surrogate uncle to her. He came up every day on his lunch break to accompany her down to the cafeteria to get something to eat or brought her food right to her office. They'd sit together and Sid would tell her about his family and his various ex wives and stories about being an ME. Sam would talk about growing up in Brooklyn and spending her older years in Phoenix. She stayed away from conversation that dealt with her birth father. And Sid never pushed her or bombarded her with questions and she appreciated that.
The invitation to Thanksgiving dinner had both surprised her and flattered her. The offer was extended to both her and Flack, even though he and Sid barely knew each other and had very little uncommon other than working around dead bodies on a daily basis. Sid had mentioned many a time that his wife would love to meet them both. That she loved babies and had some clothes and toys that she had picked out for them and wouldn't cough up unless it was a face to face meeting.
Sam liked the idea of spending the holiday with the Hammerbacks. Sid was quirky, no doubt about it. But he was highly intelligent and well spoken and had a heart of gold. And his wife sounded incredible, as did his daughters who would also be there. It definitely appeared as if she'd been spending Turkey Day, as Adam called it, surrounded by strangers. And that was okay.
"Sid and his wife invited Don and I," Sam explained to her friend. "Don can't make it, but I'm considering going. Tim's not taking you up to Syracuse to meet his aunt and uncle?"
"They're going to Turks and Caicos," Carmen responded.
"Lucky them," Sam said with a sigh. "Even a trip to Phoenix to see my folks is out of the question. My doctor would shoot me for even considering it."
"Well we don't want you popping early at thirty five thousand feet," Carmen laughed, as helped her friend sit up as the breathing exercise part of the class came to a close.
"I'll just be glad when it's over," Sam said, rubbing her stomach. "It's really starting to drag on now. I never realized how slow nine months actually go. I'm almost hoping he decides to make an appearance ahead of schedule."
"You're three quarters of the way there," Carmen told her. "Not to much longer. It will go by before you know it."
Sam sure as hell hoped so.
After the parenting classes drew to a close, the four headed to Sullivan's to grab a bite to eat. Danny wanted to have a couple of drinks before heading home. Play some pool and shoot a couple games of darts. Erica was on nights yet again and he hated the thought of going home to an empty house.
Sam felt awkward being six and a half months pregnant and in a bar. Patrons stared at her in disapproval, as if they expected her to start pounding back shots and downing pitchers of beer even in her state. Sensing her discomfort, Frankie, the usual bartender, had presented her with a button that read I'm the Designated Driver that she now sported on her blouse.
"So what's this I heard about Max failing the department physical?" Danny asked Flack, as the latter sipped ice water while they shot a game of pool.
"Word around the precinct is that she crapped out on the circuit. You remember that, Messer. Having to run it in four minutes and twenty eight seconds. Including scaling walls and apprehending and successfully subduing a suspect two hundred pounds or more. You passed it in what?"
"Three minutes, fifteen," Danny said, sipping rye and coke. "What were you?"
"Three six."
Danny shook his head and whistled lowly.
"I also have about six inches and forty pounds up on you, Messer," Flack pointed out. "I guess Max couldn't get it done in time and she's going to be riding a desk until she can pass it. It's hard shit. I'm surprised she even passed the first time around to be honest. And I'm not saying that to mean. Just considering her health issues and all, it's almost a damn miracle she got through it."
Danny nodded in agreement.
"I mean, Sam just beat it by ten seconds when the department made her take it when Mac hired her. Her issue was scaling the wall. Happens when you're big enough to hoola hoop through a cheerio."
"Mighty mouse," Danny laughed. "That's what Speed's been calling her lately. She's going to blow you away when it comes time to deliver this kid, Flack. She's going to amaze you, trust me."
"Still not going in the room," the detective said.
"Quit being such a baby. You can't tell me you don't want to see your son born. It's amazing. Once in a lifetime thing."
"We plan on having other kids, Messer. God willing."
"But it's your first born," Danny argued. "That's more special than any others. Each one is special, don't get me wrong, but there's something more magical about it being your first."
Flack sighed heavily. "I'll think about it," he said. "In the mean time, quit yakking my ear off and take your shot."
Danny saluted his best friend playfully. "All ready acting like a boss," he complained, and moved around the table to eye up his shot. "Few more weeks and you'll be Detective Sargeant Flack."
"Hope so," Flack sighed. "Thought for sure after I fucked up during that raid that I'd end up a security guard somewhere."
"Never going to happen," Danny said. "You reacted, plain and simple. Thought your life was in danger and you did what you felt you had to, to save yourself. Nothing wrong with that. You felt like shit when you killed that guy during the Wilder raid, too."
Flack nodded. "Never easy to take a life, Messer," he said quietly.
"No. But when it's your own threatened, or the life of someone you love, there should be no hesitation. Think about what you'd do if someone came after Sam or your kid. You'd go crazy. And you know what? No one would ever blame you for that. Trust me, people would understand. Some people go crazy with rage when their wives and kids are threatened. You're the type."
"Not good to think with your heart and not your head," Flack said.
"Come on, that's not Donald Flack Jr talking," Danny told his best friend. "That's Donald Flack Sr talking. You're your own man. You don't have to live up to his name or his standards. You've already achieved a hell of a lot more just by being a decent human being."
Danny took his shot, frowning as the five ball missed in the corner pocket.
"Losing your touch, Messer," Flack commented, taking a sip of water before checking out his options on the pool table.
"You ever hear from him since that night?" Danny asked, perching himself on a nearby stool.
Flack shook his head. "I don't expect to," he replied. "And honestly, after the things he said, I'd probably knock him out if I was to run into him."
"'Cause I shouldn't be telling ya that he showed up at the precinct looking for ya when Sam was in the hospital."
Flack looked up in surprise just as he took a shot. "He what?"
Danny chalked up the head of his pool cue. "I was down there filing out some paper work and he came sauntering in like he owned the place looking for you. Everyone was out there, brass wise, kissing his ass like the King of the World just walked through the door. I guess you brother's been in some trouble and he was hoping you could help out."
Flack frowned. "You talked to him?"
"Briefly. He's the same asshole as he's always been. I told him you were at the hospital with Sam. Problems with the baby."
"And he said?"
"Don't think I should tell ya that, Flack," Danny said.
"I already expect some prick comment," the detective said. "So don't be shy."
Danny sighed. "He said it served ya right for being so disrespectful and ruining your career for some two bit whore you knocked up with your bastard child."
Flack snorted and shook his head. Not surprised in the least. What did surprise him was how hurt he felt about the comment.
"I told him to take his ass on out the door before I dragged him out and schooled him in the finer art of getting his ass kicked," Danny said. "That he doesn't know Sam and it's a good thing for her that she doesn't. 'Cause she deserves a hell of a lot better than to have to deal with a bitter, pig headed old man."
Flack grinned. Just picturing Danny going toe to toe with his old man.
"Told him you were happy," Danny continued. "And that if anything, Sam changed you for the better. And that you were a better cop and a man than he could ever hope to be, and that you were going to be a hell of a father and husband."
Flack smiled. "What did he say?"
"Told me to mind my own business or he'd knock my smart mouth clean off my face," Danny said and shrugged. "Not the first time I've been threatened and it won't be the last. I don't know what's up with your brother getting in trouble still."
"Probably has something to do with abusing his wife or the bottle," Flack said. "Or both. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
"And one bad apple doesn't spoil the bunch," Danny pointed out. "And you're taking it upon yourself to make sure you don't go that way. And that's admirable. Takes a big man to admit he needs help. I applaud you for that."
"Didn't want to go that way," Flack said. "Didn't want my own wife and kid scared of me. Respect me, but not frightened of me. It's like you can beat a dog and they stick by your side. But it's not respect they look at you with. It's fear. And I don't ever want Sam looking at me that way. And I've come close to seeing that in her, and it killed me. And I know it's in me to go that extra step to have her too terrified to leave. And that disgust me. I don't want to be that way. I can't be that way."
"You won't be," Danny assured him. "You'll make sure of that."
Flack nodded.
"And besides," the CSI said, leaning over the table to sink a shot. "If you ever did hurt her, I'd kill you and hide the body where no one would ever, ever find it."
Flack grinned. "I wouldn't put it past you, Messer."
"Good," Danny said. "Now shut up and let's play some pool."
It was close to midnight when Sam and Flack had arrived home. They'd dropped Danny off and taken Carmen back to Speed's and than had stopped at McDonalds to get one of the Smartie flurries that Sam coveted so much.
Sam headed into the bathroom to clean herself up and get into her pyjamas while Flack checked the headlines on CNN and the sports scores and to make himself a coffee before locking every thing up and heading to bed himself.
He thought about what he and Danny had talked about. About his father showing up at the precinct and having his ass kissed despite being a major prick. About his brother being in trouble and still being the golden son in his old man's eyes. And about the cruel, vicious words that had come out of Sr's mouth regarding his unborn grandson.
Flack was grateful for Danny Messer. They were as different as night and day. In every possible way. Background, appearance, personality and attitude. Yet they were closer than most family members. He knew that despite their differences and occasional blow outs, he could always count on Danny to have his back. Through thick and thing. Not many people had friendships like that. And Flack valued and appreciated it.
Sam came wandering out into the living room, yawning noisily and buttoning the top on her flannel pyjamas. Off white with pink, blue and green snowflakes. Bubblegum pink fluffy slippers on her feet and a head band keeping her bangs off her forehead. Carrying the cordless phone.
Flack had a warm glass of milk waiting on the coffee table for her. It had become a nightly ritual since her release from the hospital after he'd read that warm milk was calming for some women and babies in utero. They were still waiting for it to have an affect on Kieran.
She sat down on the couch and kissed his cheek in appreciation. "You have a message," she said, holding out the phone. "From Gerrard. He left it about an hour ago and he wants you to calm him as soon as you get home. Regardless of the time."
Flack frowned. "What's it about?" he asked.
She shrugged. "He sounded like Gerrard. Serious and straight to the point."
Flack suspected it had to do with his old man showing up and his brother being in trouble. He took the phone and placed the call to his superior's cell phone.
Gerrard answered after three rings.
"Detective Flack," he said by way of greeting. "We have a small issue."
"And what's that?" Flack asked.
"An old case. From when you were still a uniform. The last call before you came a detective."
"That's a long time ago," Flack told his boss. "I need a little more information than that."
"An abusive scum bag boyfriend that worked over his girlfriend whose now a CSI. I'm sure you know who I'm talking about now. Sonofabitch is up for parole. Hearing's in a couple weeks."
"Can you give me a moment, sir?" Flack asked, covering the end of the phone with the palm of his hand and leaning across the couch to give Sam a kiss on the temple. "I'll be right back," he told her, and moved to the kitchen to continue his call.
He didn't want her to hear about it. Not until he had a chance to tell her himself. The whole story. Not just bits and pieces during a phone call.
"You there, Flack?" Gerrard asked.
"When did this come up?" the detective asked.
"Message just crossed my desk a few hours ago. I wanted to give you a heads up before it was just dropped in your lap when you got in in the morning. You're going to need to go down to records and get the old case files and evidence box and go through them. Refresh your memory about that night.'
Flack didn't need his memory refreshed. He remembered every detail very clearly. The massively battered and bloody woman. The trashed apartment. The irate, uncontrollable boyfriend. It had taken four uniforms and an off duty cop named Danny Messer to successfully calm and arrest the man.
It had been in the back of his mind for nearly nine years.
Until Carmen Devine had walked into his crime scene months ago. Her first day on the job. Knowing glances had been exchanged between them, but neither had mentioned the incident that fateful, near tragic night.
And now, in the midst of happiness and calm and serenity, Matthew Stobbard was back to haunt them.
Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and everyone of you!! Even all you lurkers!!