DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS (SOON TO BE FLACK) AND BABY KIERAN
A/N: I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO DO THIS, BUT: OKAY, I HAVE BEEN GETTING SOME MESSAGES SAYING THAT I STOLE SAMANTHA FLACK AND SCREWED THINGS UP BY MAKING HER FLACK'S WIFE INSTEAD OF HIS SISTER. I JUST WANT TO SAY, LOOK AT THE PUBLISH START DATE PEOPLE. THIS SAMANTHA WAS IN EXISTENCE WHEN THAT SAMANTHA WASN'T EVEN A TWINKLE IN TPTB'S EYES. IN FACT, UNTIL A MONTH AND A BIT AGO, HER NAME WAS MELANIE, SO IF ANYONE STOLE ANYTHING…ENOUGH SAID. JUST NEEDED TO CLEAR THAT UP.
Thanks to hope4sall for helping me work things out!
This chapter, specifically the last couple of sections, goes out to brrtmclv, my number one Peanut fan!
He ain't heavy, he's my brother
"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time
It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right.
I hope you had the time of your life.
So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it's worth it was worth all the while."
-Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) Green Day
Danny paced the width of the hallway outside of the main doors that led into the labour and delivery ward of Women's and Children's Hospital. One hand buried deep in his hair, the other clutching his cell phone to his ear as he relayed information to Adam back at the lab. Keeping an eye on the elevators at the end of the hall to his left.
"Look, no one has told me anything," Danny said into the phone. "All I know is that Hawkes in there with the OB and they're doing all sorts of shit. Ultrasounds and listening to the baby's heartbeat and whatever….I don't know, Adam…what do you want from me?…I'm just as in the dark here as you and people are watching me pace and listening to me ramble and they're thinking I'm the expectant daddy…"
There was a loud chime from the end of the hall and Danny glanced over just as the elevator doors opened and Flack came hurrying out.
"Gotta go," Danny said into the phone. "Daddy's here…keep ya posted."
"What's going on Dan-o?" Flack asked. "Why are you out here? Where's Sam?"
"She's inside being looked over by the OB," he replied, snapping his phone closed. "Hawkes is in there with her. Which is why I'm out here waiting for you. They wouldn't let me in 'cause I'm not immediate family or the baby daddy."
"How is she? Anyone said anything?"
"She was fine when we got her up here. There was no more pain and she said she felt okay. But the doc wanted to check her out to be on the safe side. I don't think we're looking at her going into labour or anything. Hawkes seems to think it was a false alarm."
"But the contractions stopped and her water didn't break or anything like that? What about the stitches? She pop the stitches?"
"Yes, no and I have no idea. The nurses just shipped me out here and I was making some calls to keep everyone in the loop. You got here quick. You go lights and sirens all the way from mid-town?"
"Absolutely. All I could think about was what an ass I'd feel like if I took my time and got here to find out my son had been born. 'Cause I am telling you, this is exactly how I pictured things happening. Her going really fast and me being stuck somewhere else and missing the whole damn thing. And she'll kill me, Danny. If I'm not there when it all goes down, I won't make it to thirty-one. She'll kill me and you'll never find my body."
"Well, for now, you're still alive. You're here and nothing's gone down. So let's get you in there so you don't miss anything in case it does."
Danny laid a supportive hand on his best friend's shoulder and led the way to the heavy double doors marked LABOUR AND DELIVERY. Laying his hand on the large automatic entry button mounted to the left of the entrance. There was a soft buzzing noise and the doors opened slowly, allowing them access onto the noisy, busy ward.
"Is this dad?" a nurse behind the reception dad asked, pointing her pen in Flack's direction.
"It is," Danny answered.
"Just dad can go down. One visitor at a time."
"This is my brother," Flack said, as Danny's mouth opened to suggest he better go back and wait where he was.
The nurse gave Flack a once over. Then looked over at the much smaller, fair haired, bespectacled Danny. Both of her eyebrows arching as her face gave it away that she knew they were most likely full of shit. There was no way in hell, with the radical differences in both size and appearance that the two young men were related.
"Brothers?" she asked.
"My parents adopted him," Flack jerked a thumb at Danny. "When he was just a baby. It's why he looks so different. Obviously we don't have the same parents."
"Obviously," she snorted.
"What? You don't consider him my brother because we don't have the same blood running through our veins? We grew up together. Shared a room. Slept in bunk beds. We were joined at the hip. You actually going to stop my brother from coming down with me? You're going to hold him back from being there for the birth of his nephew?"
The nurse blinked at the annoyed, agitated and clearly angry tone in the young man's voice. "Of course not. I just…the two of you looked so different that I didn't…"
"Different parents," Danny said. "He just told you."
"Room 13," she told them. "Second from the end on the right hand side."
"Thank you," Danny said, offering up a pleasant smile before he and Flack headed down the hall. "Lucky number 13, huh? Wonder how many births that room has seen in it's time?"
"Probably tons," Flack responded. "But let's just hope my son's doesn't add to the list."
"Not ready yet?"
"Not in the slightest. I just want the kid to hang in until at least Boxing Day. The twenty-sixth hits and he can come whenever he feels like it. But our thing was to be married before he got here."
"If you were so concerned about that you should have gone the more traditional route of getting married and than getting pregnant," Danny chided.
Flack glared at him. "You preaching to me about pre-marital sex now, Messer?"
"No…of course not. I'm preaching to you about abstinence or safe sex."
Flack snorted and shook his head.
"Kidding, just kidding…so what if you guys took the less conventional path. It's all good. Important thing is it's just not some girl you got pregnant by mistake and than up and bailed on. I mean, you're getting married in what?" he checked his watch. "About thirty-five minutes give or take a few. You ain't nervous about that?"
"Not as nervous as I am about having a baby," Flack said.
"Man, I thought you'd be quaking in your boots by now. In less than two days you'll be a married man. The guy who used to swear up and down that he'd never settle down. And you're doing it in style. A wife and a baby within a month and a bit of each other. You're brave, Flack. Damn brave."
"Messer, once Erica starts popping kids out, you'll understand how nerve wracking it is. Until than, keep you're yap shut."
"We're not having any kids," Danny informed his best friend.
"Why not?"
The CSI shrugged. "She doesn't want any."
"And you're okay with that? What happened to the guy who used to bitch and moan to me when he was with Monroe about wishing she'd shit or get off the pot so you could have a life together? Marriage, kids, the whole nine?"
"That was Montana. This is Erica. Two totally different women."
"Hold up," Flack stopped walking and laid a hand on his best friend's shoulder to halt him. "You just called her Montana. You haven't called her that since she's been gone. You said you'd retired that name a long time ago. And now you're just pulling it out of your ass. What's up with that?"
"Nothing. I used to call her that all the time. Slip of the tongue I guess."
Flack cocked his head to the side and observed the smaller man with a slight smirk on his face. "You've been talking to her, haven't you," it was more of an accusation than a question.
"Who?"
"Monroe. Lindsay Monroe."
"Get outta here. Of course not."
Flack stepped in front of Messer to keep him from escaping. "When's the last time you talked to her?" he asked.
"Don, seriously. I don't know what you're talking about."
"Bullshit. I know you, Danny. We've been friends a long time. I know when you're lying. And you're lying to me right now. So let's hear it. When was the last time you spoke to Monroe?"
Danny sighed.
Flack arched an eyebrow.
"Two weeks ago," Danny admitted solemnly.
The detective snorted and shook his head and walked away. "You're pathetic, Messer."
"Look, she and I have been talking again for a few months now," Danny explained as he chased after his friend. "She called me up, all torn up about missing New York and the team and said she needed someone to talk to. I wasn't just going to hang up on her."
"Why not?"
"I don't know…she just sounded really sad and I didn't have the heart to shoot her down."
"Erica know you been talking to her?"
Danny sighed and shook his head.
"Christ, Danny. What's wrong with you? You've got this woman that's crazy about and you swear up and down you're madly in love with yet your carrying on a thing with your ex?"
"It's not a thing. It's phone calls. We're not having an affair. We're not even having phone sex or anything of the sort. We're friends. Plain and simple."
"How do you be friends with someone you were banging? You see me hanging around with girls I've been with? I keep my damn distance."
"Come on. You telling me that if you and Sam broke up you wouldn't try and be friends with her?"
"No. How could I be friends with her? You realize everything that's at stake if Sam and I ever broke up. Divorce, child custody, all that crap? Alimony and support for the kid and visitation every weekend if I'm lucky. How could I be friends with my ex-wife if I was still in love with her and just wanted my old life back?"
"Okay…so Sam and you weren't the best example to use. There's a lot riding on you guys making it work. I get that and I respect that. But I don't see the major deal with me and Montana still being friends."
"You even care about what Erica's gonna say when she finds out? You care that she's probably gonna boot your ass out and tell ya if you want country girl to go and find her?"
"Erica isn't going to find out so don't be worrying about stuff like that. You just keep your nose out of my business and don't be saying a damn word to her. I can talk to who I want to. No concern of yours."
Flack shook his head. "You're right. It's not. But you're my best friend and maybe I don't want you screwing up your life playing what might have been with your ex. But hey, you want to toss away what you have now for another shot at Monroe, that's your business."
"We're just friends, Don. That's it."
"You can honestly tell me you've got no feelings for Lindsay Monroe whatsoever?"
Danny sighed.
Flack paused outside the door belonging to room thirteen and turned to face his friend Lowering his voice so no one inside could hear. "Are you shitting me, Messer? You still have feelings for her?"
"Some," he admitted.
"So what the hell are you doing with Erica, than? Why have you been wasting all these months of the girl's time? Why aren't you getting your ass on the next plane to Montana and chasing down the love of your life?"
Danny shrugged. "I don't know…okay? I just…I feel like I owe something to Erica now that we've been together all these months. And she's a great girl when we're not fighting all the time and I don't want to hurt her. Trust me, that's the last thing I want to do."
"So what now? Gonna have honest to God real sex with one and phone sex with the other?" Flack asked sarcastically. "You know, best of both worlds. Have your cake and eat it too?"
"Why you gotta be like that?" Danny retorted. "All high and mighty with people? Like you're so goddamn perfect all the time? You and Sam have your own problems to straighten out before you go worrying about, and commenting about, mine. Think Sam would be too thrilled if she knew Devon stopped by the precinct last week to talk to you?"
"She came by because she needed some legal advice."
"So hire a fucking lawyer. Don't show up at your ex-boyfriend's desk in a mini skirt and no underwear and a top three sizes to small. Thousands of cops in this city and she just had to talk to you? Does she even realize you're getting married and having a kid?"
"I told her back in September and I told her again when she came by. There was nothing more to it, Danny. She needed help and I tried giving it to her."
"Yeah…I bet you wouldn't mind giving it to her, would ya?"
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"
"Like you said we've known each other a long time. I think I know you better than you know yourself sometimes. And I know that you're physically and mentally incapable of staying committed to one woman for a prolonged period of time. I don't know how long it's going to be. Six months, a year, a few years. But you're gonna get bored of playing husband and daddy and find a little something on the side to keep you happy."
"Fuck you, Danny," Flack snarled. "You don't know what you're talking about. Ten years from now, when Sam and I are still together with a half a dozen kids and you're miserable and alone, I'm going to bring this moment up to you and you can apologize for being such an ass."
"And ten years from now when you're divorced and paying child support out your ass, what than?"
"You know what…." Flack took a step towards his friend, an angry finger pointed in the CSI's face. He was half tempted to knock half pint Danny Messer on his ass, but any thought of such was thwarted by Sheldon Hawkes stepping out of the room across from them.
"Hey, doc, what's up?" Danny asked. "I don't hear any screaming brat so everything must be okay."
"Braxton Hicks contractions," Hawkes answered, speaking more to Flack. Oblivious to the fact that the two men had just been in the midst of a nasty exchange before he arrived on the scene.
"What are those?" Danny inquired. "Like real contractions or what?"
"False labour. Sometimes called practice contractions. They're sporadic contractions of the uterus," Hawkes explained. "Relatively painless, but they hurt enough to scare women into thinking they're going into actual labour."
"So what's the deal?" Flack asked. "She either is or she isn't having the baby."
"OB checked her and there's no sign that she's in labour or in danger of going into labour," Hawkes replied. "There's slight worry that these contractions could be a sign of effacement."
"What in the hell is that?" Danny asked.
"Thinning of the cervix," Flack answered before Hawkes had a chance to.
Danny arched an eyebrow. "You know a little too much about this whole childbirth thing."
"I read," Flack explained. "A lot."
"So this thinning thing," Danny said. "What will this do?"
"Other than split the stitches holding the cervix together, it's the first sign of labour," Hawkes told them. "But like I said, the OB sees no signs whatsoever that labour is eminent."
Flack sighed and ran a hand through his hair and than over his face. "Nothing can go easy, can it. This whole pregnancy has been one crazy ass thing after another. Why can't the last month and a half just go nice and smooth. I mean, is that too much to ask?"
"Some women just have a rougher, more exciting time than others," Hawkes reasoned.
The detective laughed. "Yeah? And I just happened to find one of them? I'm telling ya, when this kid finally gets here, we're all going out to Sullivan's and racking up a huge tab. My treat."
"Well considering you're on the wagon, I'll gladly drink you're share," Danny chided.
"So what now?" Flack asked Hawkes. "Does she have to stay in the hospital or can she go home….?"
"Doctor wants to keep her here for a couple of hours," Hawkes said. "To keep an eye on things. Better to be safe than sorry."
Flack nodded in agreement.
"They did an ultrasound. Apparently your son, at this moment is breach."
"Go figure," Danny laughed. "Flack's boy coming ass first. Why am I not surprised?"
"So will he stay that way or what?" Flack asked.
"Most babies end up turning around the right way before it's time to give birth to them," Hawkes assured him. "If a later ultrasound around the thirty-sixth week shows that the baby is still breach, than the doctor will either try and change his position by hand, or just suggest scheduling a c-section."
"Honestly," Flack said. "I'm praying and hoping for the latter. 'Cause if that woman can't handle these fake labour pains, how in the hell is she going to handle the real ones? And do it without being allowed an epidural? She won't make it."
"I think you're seriously underestimating her," Hawkes said. "She's small but mighty. And she just may surprise you when the time arrives."
"Break his hand in the delivery room is what she's going to do," Danny declared. "That's a give in."
"You can go in and see her," Hawkes told Flack. "The doctor's long gone. She just has Sam resting on her left side. It helps keep the Braxton-Hicks contractions at bay. And make sure she gets lots of clear fluids. She's slightly dehydrated so that could have made the pain worse. Has she been vomiting a lot lately?"
"Last few days she's been sick to her stomach quite a bit," Flack said. "We just chalked it up to bad nerves. She's been on pins and needles about the wedding. Speaking of which, are you sure you can't make it, Hawkes?"
"Mac and Stella need someone to be on duty with them," he responded with a sigh. "I would have loved to have been there, but I was the low man on the totem pole. I've got a little something to give you and Sam so if you want to come by upstairs sometime tomorrow, I can give it to you than."
"You didn't have to get us something, Hawkes. There's no need."
"I wanted to," he assured the younger man. "You don't get married but once in a lifetime. Well, some of us anyway."
"Once is enough for me," Flack agreed. "Thanks…you always seem to be around with shit goes down."
"Shit seems to follow me," Hawkes said with a slight chuckle. "If you need Danny and I to stick around…."
"I think we'll be okay," Flack told him. "Thanks guys. For getting her here in one piece."
"Call us if there's any change," Hawkes clapped the detective on the shoulder. "Or even if you just have any questions or concerns."
"I will," Flack promised, and watched as the two men headed off down the hall.
"Nine o'clock tonight, Sullivans," Danny called over his shoulder. "Don't forget. Last night as a free man. Every guy deserves some kind of bachelor party. And bring your wallet. Just in case Sam pops that kid out and you gotta pay up on your promise."
"I don't know if I'm going to make it with what went down today," Flack responded.
"You better be there. Call so I know what's up. If you're at home or at work or what."
"Keeping tabs on me now, Mess?"
"Gotta make sure you don't do a runaway groom," Danny laughed before he and Hawkes disappeared around the corner.
Flack smirked. Sighing heavily, he steeled his nerves and pushed his way into the hospital room.
Just a little ways to go, he thought.
I hope I make it.
She was embarrassed.
Humiliated that she'd panicked and assumed the worst and forced both Hawkes and Danny to take her to the hospital. Only to be told, in not so many words, that the pain she was feeling was not as intense as she was imagining it was and that it was basically all in her head. She wasn't in labour. There were no signs that it was even going to happen anytime soon. She had overreacted. Plain and simple. Her argument was how in the hell was she suppose to know what was real and what wasn't? She'd never given birth to a baby before. She didn't know what it felt like or what to expect. So what if she wasted the doctor's and the nurses time. That's what they got paid to do. Take care of pregnant women and their babies and everything that came with the miracle of life.
To be on the safe side, the girls night that had been scheduled to take place at Erica's had now been moved to Sam's apartment. It had just been a simple thing that had been planned. Take out and a few drinks for those that could indulge, and laughs between friends. Nothing too strenuous or exciting. No one felt like delivering a baby on the living room floor.
"You sure you don't want me to stick around?" Flack asked, as he came into the living room carrying a black Henley style shirt.
"You've had this night planned for a couple of months now," Sam said from the couch, where she was watching a re-run of Sex and the City while crunching noisily on a cup full of crushed ice.
"I know. But after what went down today, I don't feel too comfortable just leaving you here," Flack told her, as he sat the shirt on the back of the couch and zipped and buttoned his jeans and buckled his belt.
"It's not like I'll be alone," she reminded him. "If anything happens, the girls will take care of it and call you. Wanna hear something weird?"
"Sure."
"There's a guy on here that looks like a younger version of you."
"Yeah?" Flack snagged the shirt from the back of the couch and tugged it on. "Whose he banging?"
"Sarah Jessica Parker. And apparently he's a bi-sexual."
Flack grimaced. "There's one road not travelled. And it never will be."
"Oh come on. I know you got a little turned on watching Brokeback Mountain."
"Excuse me? That was you. I was nearly gagging and you were practically attacking me 'cause it just did something for you."
"I will neither admit or deny that," she said, rubbing her stomach.
"You don't have to. I have the scars from bite marks on my left shoulder to prove it."
"I am not that bad," she said, and shook some of the ice into her mouth.
He arched an eyebrow that let her know how full of shit that comment was and plopped down on the couch beside her.
"You're sure you're going to be okay?" he asked.
Sam nodded. "For the twentieth time in an hour, yes."
"I'm not gonna be home tonight and I'm not sure I like the idea of you being alone all night."
"Carmen is already staying over to keep an eye on me," she informed him. "And she will call you if we need you. As long as she doesn't have to go hunt you down at any strip club."
"Come on. You know I don't go to places like that,"
It was Sam's turn to arch an eyebrow.
"Okay…so say we do end up at a place like that out of sheer coincidence. I already know our whole look but don't touch policy. So don't worry. I won't be getting any lap dances or picking bills out of some girl's g-string with my teeth. Unless, you know, you decide you don't want to go ahead with this whole staying apart the night before the wedding and you give me a little private show later."
She grimaced. "I'm seven and a half months pregnant," she reminded him.
"Yeah….and you're point?"
"Please. Not even you are horny enough to want to see me naked when I look like this."
"Wanna test that theory?" Flack asked, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders and pulling her into his side. "I can take you into the bedroom and show you just how attractive I find you? How you still do it for me despite all your bitching and moaning about being the size of a small house?"
"You are one sick human being," she declared, but there was a smile on her face as she rested her head on his shoulder. "So?" she asked, picking at a loose thread on the neck of his shirt. "With all the excitement your son caused today you never told me what Sinclair wanted to talk to you about."
"It was about my sargeant's exam," he told her, rubbing her arm softly.
"You don't sound too overly thrilled about it," she observed.
He shrugged.
She sat up and curled her arm around his neck and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sorry, Donnie," she said sincerely. "I know how bad you wanted that promotion. And how bad I wanted it for you."
"What are you sorry about? I got the promotion."
"You did?" a broad smile lit up her entire face. Her eyes sparkling and her nose crinkling.
It was that smile, which made her appear years younger than she really was, that had made him fall in love with her nearly nine months ago. And a brief thought, of how it would kill him if the day ever came that he no longer saw that smile, came over him and nearly crippled him with fear. Because the truth of the matter was, the day that came was the day he may as well lie down and die himself.
He couldn't resist laying a hand on the back of her neck and pulling her into him for a long, soft kiss.
"Is that a yes or a no?" she asked with a giggle.
"I got my promotion," he confirmed.
"That's wonderful, baby," she gushed, holding his face in her hands as she covered his lips in a congratulatory kiss. "You don't sound too happy about it? This is what you really wanted. To become a Sargeant. I thought you'd be a little more excited about it."
"I would have been if the circumstances had have been different."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
He sighed and removed his arm from around her shoulders and leaned forward to pull the exam papers out from under the stack of old magazines he'd hid them under. They'd been rolled up and tucked in the inside of his suit jacket, and after taking her home from the two hour stay at the hospital, he'd stashed them under the magazines while she took a well deserved nap. Saving them for a rainy day.
He held them out to her.
"Your test results?" she asked.
Flack nodded.
Sam took them from him and unrolled them. Leafing through the various pages with barely a flicker of emotion crossing her face.
"Sixty five is the percentage you have to get to pass in NYPD," Flack told her.
"Well you got sixty seven," she said. "So you passed. That's all that matters."
"I could have done a lot better. I know that. You know that. I didn't study as often and as much as I should have. I'm better than a sixty seven, Samantha."
"Of course you are. But things sometimes get in the way and you can't fault yourself for trying your best."
"I didn't try my best. I don't know what happened. I don't think I really tried at all to be honest. All of a sudden I was sitting there writing it and I was bored to shit. It became this huge chore and I couldn't wait to get out of there fast enough. And I'm never like that when it comes to the job."
"We all have those moments, Donnie. The point is is that you passed. It may not be the greatest mark in the world. But you made it. And I'm proud of you regardless if you made it at the top of the class or near the bottom. That doesn't matter to me. You went after it and you got it and there's nothing for you to be ashamed about."
"I could have done better, Samantha. I wanted to do better. This way, getting a mark like that? I don't feel like I achieved anything. It's like I just squeaked by."
"Well you did achieve something. You moved up the ladder. And I don't care if you did it was a sixty seven or a ninety seven. I'm proud of you and you should be proud of yourself. No one expected you to get this far at your young age. And you've worked hard to get where you are and no one can take that away from you."
He sighed heavily and took the papers from her and stared down at them. "I need to do better," he said. "I need to prove myself more."
She wanted to ask him just what he was trying to prove. If he was just pushing himself that extra bit to look better to his old man and all those cops that constantly compared father and son and made the Jr feel as if he was insignificant and unworthy to even carry the family name. But bringing up her soon to be father in law would only cause more pain and bitterness, and this moment was about celebration something great. Not pulling someone down.
"If that's what you feel you need to do, than I'll support you a hundred percent," she said. "But I want you to want that for yourself. Not for other people and the way they look at you."
He nodded but didn't respond.
"Whatever you need to do, Donnie, I'll back you. You know that."
"I know," he said with a smile, and ran a hand over her hair. Tucking some behind her right ear. "I just want you to be proud of me, Samantha."
"I am proud of you," she assured him and moved closer to him on the couch. "But the thing that I'm most proud of you about has nothing to do with exams or sargeant's stripes or promotions."
"What else is there?" he asked.
She picked up his hand and laid it on the side of her stomach. "Your son. You helped create him. And you've been supportive and strong and you've matured a hell of a lot since we found out about him. That's what I'm proud of you for. Because you can fail every test there is and not live up to these enormous expectations people have dumped on you, but nothing changes the fact that you're Kieran's father. Look what you helped make. No one can ever take that away from you."
"Any fool with a dick can make a baby, Samantha," he said.
"True. But it takes a real man to raise a child."
He smiled and drew her into him for a tender, lingering kiss. "I'm worried I won't be very good at it," he admitted, combing his fingers through her hair as he looked deep into those golden eyes.
"You will be," she assured him. "And I'm terrified I'm going to be a horrible mother who leaves her baby in the grocery store and forgets to feed him or change his diaper for hours on end."
"Poor kid doesn't stand a chance with the two of us in charge," he said with a small chuckle.
"Well, I figure if we're both incredibly horrible at it, one will cancel the other out and make at least one of us tolerably decent," she reasoned, and kissed the tip of his nose.
"Just remember, I don't do diapers."
She laughed and pulled away from him and slowly and carefully got to her feet. "Sorry. There is no way you are going to escape diaper duty all together."
He stood as well, laying a hand on the small of her back as the other hand took her by the elbow and he helped her to her feet.
"I will be so glad when this is over," she declared, picking up her glass of ice chunks before waddling towards the kitchen with a hand on the small of her back.
"Told you you'd want a puppy at the end of this," he called to her.
"A whole litter of them," she responded. "Will you be glad? When it's over?"
"More relieved than anything. It's been….what's the best word….a journey."
"Yeah….a long, tiring journey to hell and back," she said. "But you know, despite it all, there's not much I would change. You've made it bearable."
"As much as I wish I could say the same for you…"
"I know," she laughed. "I've been an insufferable bitch. But face it, Donald Flack Junior. You'd do it all over again in a heartbeat."
He smiled.
There was no denying it.
Somewhere between shooting pool and half naked women gyrating in his face as he clumsily slipped dollar bills provided by a shit faced Danny Messer into their barely there underwear, Flack fell off the wagon.
And he fell off hard.
He had promised himself, as he left his very pregnant fiancee gossiping and giggling in the living room with her friend,s that he'd have one drink. One beer just for the sake of saying he had one at his bachelor party. That one beer rapidly progressed into two. Two became three. And three became an entire pitcher accompanied by nearly a dozen Jack Daniel's shooters.
Flack had no idea how he had let it happen. It was all a complete blur to him now as Danny, heavily slurring his words, waved down a waitress to order another round of drinks and a bottle of tequila. All he was aware of was an equally as drunk Adam Ross nearly passed out with his head on the table top and Tim Speedle, acting designated driver, watching it all go down with a disgusted, annoyed look on his face.
That and some blond thing with breasts way too large to be real, perched on his lap. Playing with his hair and his ears and asking him about why he was throwing his life away on just one woman when there was so many fish in the sea to have fun with. He didn't know who she was or how she'd gotten onto his lap. What he did know, was that as drunk as he was, he wasn't comfortable with the situation. He felt like a complete and utter prick for allowing something like that to happen when he had a perfectly happy, satisfying life less than twenty minutes from where he now was.
Than he realized his hands were somewhere they shouldn't have been. Nowhere outrageously scandalous. But resting on her bare thighs was farther than he ever should have gone. He yanked his hands away as if he'd been scalded and quickly stood up, stumbling backwards drunkenly and nearly dumping the scantily clad woman on her ass on the worn out carpet below.
"What the fuck is your problem?!" she screamed over the loud, pounding music, angrily shoving him.
Speed was in the midst of things before Flack could even react. Stepping between the detective and the voluptuous blond before things could get out of control and the massive bouncers watching intently from across the room decided to pounce.
"I think you need to take a hike," Speed said to the stripper.
"I think you need to step back and let your buddy fight his own battles," she shot back.
Speed reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. Opening it, he grabbed two twenties and held them out to the young woman. "Take a hike," he said. "I don't want to see you back here. My friend's pretty damn drunk. And he's a huge guy so you can imagine how much money he's dropped in this place to get the way he is. So unless you want me calling your manager over here and telling him you're harassing a customer tossing benjamins around this place, I suggest you back off."
She snatched the money from his hand and tucked it into her sequined bra. "Who do you guys think you are?"
"NYPD, baby!" Danny exclaimed, and slammed back a shot.
"You okay?" Speed asked Flack, laying a hand on the larger man's shoulder. The detective was unsteady on his feet.
Flack nodded. "I'm good," he said. "I need to…I need to get some air. Before I throw up all over the place."
"Good idea," Speed said. "Cold air will sober you up a bit. Why'd you even let yourself get like this? After making the commitment to not do shit like this anymore?"
"I don't need a fucking lecture, Speedle," Flack snapped, and went around to the other side of the table, where a bleary eyed Adam, a goofy grin on his face, was taking in the sights of the half naked women parading around the stage just feet away.
"Let's go and get some air, Ross," Flack said, not giving his brother in law a chance to answer before he was all but yanking him up and off the chair by the shoulders of his plaid shirt.
"Hey…" Adam protested mildly, snagging his bottle of beer before Flack could drag him off. "Where we going?"
"Outside," the detective replied. "To sober up. Get some air."
"Together?" Adam inquired.
Flack nodded.
"Never thought I'd see the day the two of us got cozy," Adam said, and proceeded to place a noisy, wet kiss on his brother in law's cheek.
"You're lucky you're somewhat related to me," Flack grumbled. "Or I'd be burying you for that."
He shoved open the rear entrance of the club and he and Adam stumbled out into the frigid night air. The wind was strong and the snow swirled around them yet neither noticed. All they noticed was how good the air felt on their flushed faces and how it refreshed and revitalized them. Somewhat at least.
Flack took in huge gulps of air. It burned his lungs yet felt so damn good all at the same time. He was vaguely aware of the lab tech leaning against the brick wall of the exterior of the club, his beer bottle still clutched tightly in his hands despite having his head hung low and his elbows on his knees.
"Adam…buddy…you ain't gonna be sick on me are ya?"
He shook his head vigorously. "Just need a few minutes…to get myself together…just give me a few…."
Flack nodded in silent agreement and patted his jeans down. He'd left his pack of smokes back in the club, Sitting on the table. His head pounded and his stomach felt queasy. He belittled himself for allowing things to get so out of control.
His cell phone was clipped to the waist of his jeans and he yanked it off. He'd left the phone turned on and had put it on vibrate in case a call came through in regards to Sam and the baby. Thankfully, nothing had gone wrong and the only call he'd received was two hours ago. His soon to be wife telling him that she was on her way to bed.
He checked his watch. Quarter after two. Damn late. Too damn late, in fact. But that didn't stop him from dialling the familiar number.
It rang several times. He was worried the call was going to go to the answering machine. His heart lightening and his face breaking into a broad smile as her tired, groggy voice finally came through.
"Hello?"
"Hey, baby," he greeted cheerfully.
"Donnie?" she sounded disoriented. Confused. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just out with the guys and I wanted to hear your voice."
"Well, that's sweet…but it's almost two thirty in the morning."
"I woke you up?"
"Uh…yeah…are you drunk?"
"Of course not," he lied. "Why would I be drunk? I haven't had anything to drink in a while. When's the last time I had something to drink? What makes you think I'm drunk?"
"Maybe because you're running off at the mouth, talking loud enough to bust my ear drum and because you thought calling home at two thirty in the morning was a good idea. And because you're accent is always really thick and hard to understand when you've been drinking a lot. Like it is right now."
"I just wanted to hear your voice. Check on things. Make sure you're alright."
"I'm fine. Tired, but fine."
"What did you and the girls do?"
"Don, it's two thirty in the morning. Can we not talk about this in, I don't know, eight or so hours?"
"I'm just curious."
She sighed. "We just had some take out and hung out and talked and relaxed. Stella had a little too much wine and she's passed out face down on the couch and Carmen's snoring like a maniac next to me."
"Carmen's sleeping in the same bed as you?"
"Yeah….so?"
"I'll be home in like ten minutes if that's the case. I can think about a dozen sick and perverted things I could do to both of you."
"Goodnight, Don," she said in a tone that let him know that comment wasn't appreciated.
"I'm just kidding, Sam. I wouldn't actually do anything. Carmen could watch us. Even better, I could sit back and watch you and her. That would be an awesome wedding present."
"I'm hanging up now," she huffed.
"Wait…wait…I'm sorry…I'm just joking, baby. And you're right, I have been drinking."
"Well no shit, Sherlock," she snorted.
"I've just had a few. That's it. Nothing major."
"Where are you?" she asked.
"I'm with Adam in an alleyway somewhere. I don't know. I think we're in mid-town."
"You think?"
"I'm pretty wasted, Sam."
She sighed. "Can I talk to my brother?"
"Uh…." Flack glanced over his shoulder to where Adam Ross was downing the remains of his beer. "I don't think that's a good idea at the moment," he told Sam.
"Why not?"
"He's more polluted than I am."
"Well, can you at least make sure that he doesn't pass out in a gutter somewhere? He's not exactly, how do I put this? He's not exactly used to partying with the big boys. And you and Danny…well you and Danny are bottomless pits when it comes to booze."
"I'll make sure he gets to the nearest park bench in one piece," Flack promised.
"Donnie," she said with an exasperated sigh.
"What? Way I'm going I'll be parked right alongside of him."
She didn't respond.
"You mad at me?" he asked.
"For what?"
"Being drunk. Especially when I've been on the wagon and what not for a couple months now."
"I'm not mad at you," she said. "Just…I wish you hadn't have done it."
He sighed. "Me either."
"Things happen and people slip up. I'm not going to preach to you or fault you for it. I just…I don't want you going back to the way you were before. Because that was scary."
"I know. And I won't. Go back to that. It's just one night. I swear that I'm going right back on the wagon as soon as this night is over."
"That's your decision," she told him.
"Yeah…but it affects the three of us."
She yawned noisily,
"I love you, Samantha, I don't want to lose you."
"I love you, too. And you're not going to. I'm not mad or anything. I understand that guys do stupid things the nights before their wedding. As long as your doing something stupid doesn't included taking some woman to a hotel or something."
"Of course not," he assured her quickly. "Never. I would never do that. I love you too much to ever do that. You know that right? You know I love you. That I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. You're my everything, Samantha. My entire world. And you're so good to me and you put up with all of my bullshit and you love me back and you're marrying me so you must at least tolerate me to some extent, right?"
"Donnie, I do love you. But right now you're a rambling drunk and I'm exhausted."
"I just wanted to call you and tell you all of that. And tell you how badly I fucked up."
"You need to go and have some coffee and go back to Tim's and sleep it off," she told him. "You'll be as hung over as hell, but you'll feel a hundred times better in the long run."
"You're right," he agreed. "I need to sleep it off. I'm really, really, drunk."
"I know…can I hung up now? Please? I'm tired, baby."
"If you need anything, you know where I'll be."
"Goodnight, Don," she said.
"Sam…hold up for a second…."
She sighed in agitation.
"I love you," he said. "And that's the one shred of sober me that's talking."
"I love you, too," she said. "Now I am going back to sleep. Please don't call me back until you're completely sober."
"I won't. Just think, in about nineteen hours, me and you are going to be married. How surreal is that?"
"Goodnight," she said, and he could tell there was a smile on her face.
"'Nite," he said in response and hung up.
"Were you giving your drunken confessional to my sister?" Adam slurred as he stumbled over towards his brother in law.
"Your sister and I were having phone sex," Flack replied.
"Hey…" Adam pointed a drunk finger at the detective. "Watch it…that's my baby sister…wait…no it isn't…she's older than I am…but she's just so small and everything that it seems like she's my baby sister…you know, we used to joke all the time that we didn't think we had the same father because of how different we look…"
Flack had to admit he often wondered the same thing. He'd never seen a picture of their birth father, but having met Sam's mother and seeing the vague resemblance she had to both her children, he figured one of them most likely came from a different dad. Sam had all her mom's features save for the colour of eyes and hair. Adam had his mother's eyes but nothing else. And the siblings were just so….different. In every way possible. He'd told himself that he was probably just reading too much into it. There were lots of siblings that didn't look like each other. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something not quite right.
"So you guys are a little different," he said with a shrug.
"A little?" Adam laughed. "We're polar opposites. There's nothing even remotely similar about us. And it's not just looks either. It's…everything. I mean, you said it yourself when you first found out Sam was my sister. That there was no way we could be related."
"I meant that as a joke, Adam. Because Sam's so Sam and you're so…you."
"Exactly. We're nothing alike."
"I'm nothing like my brother and we still have the same mother and father."
"But you probably still look alike, right?"
"Sure, but…."
"Sam and I don't look anything alike. And I look like my real dad. Trust me, I am near a spitting image of him. But Sammie…she doesn't look like him or our mom. See what I'm getting at?"
"I think you're reading too much into it, Adam. Maybe she looks like a mixture of both. Come on, let's go inside…I'm freezing my ass off here."
Flack headed for the door. Adam didn't follow.
"I mean that would explain why he did what he did to her," Adam mumbled. More to himself than Flack.
"Come again?" Flack asked, joining his brother in law once again. "I didn't catch that."
"I was just saying that it would explain why he did what he did. Our dad. To my sister. Because no birth father would do something like that to his child. I mean, they couldn't be that sick and twisted can they?"
"Birth parents do all sort of sick shit to their kids, Adam. I've seen stuff on the job that will make your hair stand on end. And both of you got the crap kicked out of you and tormented as kids, not just Sam. You both went through hell."
"I'm not talking about the physical stuff, Don, I'm talking about the other things he did to her."
"Come on," Flack wrapped an arm around Adam's shoulders and tugged him towards the door. "You've had a lot to drink and what you're going to be saying next is something I don't want to be hearing right about now. Okay? And I shouldn't be hearing it from you."
"But I just don't get it," Adam fought off the larger man's attempts to escort him inside. Tears of rage burned his eyes. The alcohol giving him the much needed courage to just get his pain out in the open. To rely on and trust in the only person he had faith in save for his sister and Gus. And even she didn't know the whole truth.
"I need someone to explain it to me," the lab tech continued. "I need you to tell me why. You're a cop. Tell me why he did the things he did. Why he used us as human punching bags and treated us like we were nothing more than shit on the bottom of his shoe. We were kids! We didn't deserve that."
"No…you didn't…but living in the past like this isn't good, Adam…it happened and I'm sorry you and Sammie had to go through that…and trust me, if I'd known you guys back than I'd like to think I would have noticed what was up and done something about it. I don't know why the system failed you two. But it did. And it sucks and it hurts but torturing yourself with it isn't doing you or your sister any good."
"You're a cop, Don. Tell me why he did what he did," he begged.
"I don't know why Adam. I don't have the answers you want. The only person who has those answers is your dad and he's dead. You're never going to know why. You just need to deal with and…"
"Deal with it? Deal with the fact that we used to get locked in the basement for a few days with no food or water? Or how he used to take his belt to our bare backs and our asses until we bled? Or how every time we ran away the cops would find us and take us back and not even call CAS to check on us? I'm suppose to just deal with that?"
Flack sighed heavily and shook his head.
"I'm suppose to just deal with the fact that my father was molesting my sister?" Adam blurted out.
So now the truth was out. Flack had heard it with his own ears. The proof he needed to back up the suspicions he had had but never brought up. And his stomach caught in his throat and the most intense feelings of anger and pity overtook him as he stood there, watching Adam Ross break down sobbing in the middle of the snowy alley. It was the alcohol that was bringing it all out of the younger man. There was no way he would have been spilling his guts and his tears if he'd been sober.
And although he'd suspected it. Flack still found himself in the midst of a stunned silence.
"How do I deal with that?" Adam cried. "How? That I let that go on and never did anything about it?"
"You were a little kid," Flack told him. "There was nothing you could have done."
"I could have told somebody. I could have told our mom or a teacher at school."
"Do you know for sure, Adam? Did you see it? Did anything like that happen to you?"
He shook his head and wiped at his eyes. "I never saw it and he never touched me. Ever. But I remember so many nights listening to him going into her room. I never heard anything after that and than a while later she'd come in my room and say that dad had passed out and she needed a place to sleep. I mean, most people would think that was weird. She was close to ten at the time so I was barely six. But she was my sister and she needed me."
"There's nothing weird about it, Adam. It's the way you guys coped with things. Did she ever say anything to you?"
"No," Adam sniffled noisily. "And I never asked her. I was too scared to. I didn't want her to get into any more trouble with our dad. But there was this guy that she kinda dated when she was about fourteen. Before Evan. Chester Lake. He was this really nice Native American guy that lived a few doors down. Dad hated him obviously because he was native. I think Sam may have told him…but I don't know for sure."
"You know where this Lake guy is now?"
Adam shook his head. "I heard he became a cop."
"With the NYPD?"
Adam nodded. "Last I heard he was working out of the 68th precinct in Brooklyn. But I was in university than so he could be anywhere now."
"I'll look him up. See if maybe he remembers Sam and anything she told him."
"What good will it do? Our dad's dead."
"Peace of mind," Flack reasoned.
"You going to tell my sister I told you?"
"It's up to your sister to tell me what happened. I'm not going to go causing any problems between the two of you by saying anything."
"Thanks," Adam said. "I just…I needed to get that all out, you know."
Flack nodded.
"I didn't mean to burden you with all of that, Don. I just…it's been inside for so long and I just needed to tell someone that I trusted….someone that loves my sister and won't do anything to hurt her…because she needed someone like you. Someone strong and reliable and you're good for her and…." Adam broke down again. "She's my sister…."
"It's okay, Adam," Flack reached out and drew the younger man into his arms, one arm around the lab tech's waist, the other on the back of Adam's head as he allowed his brother in law to sob into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry….I feel so stupid…"
"There's nothing to be ashamed about or feel stupid about. You needed to talk and get it out and you did. You feel better that you did?"
Adam nodded. "I just…we never had a normal family…even now with our mom and Sarge so far away…might as well be on the other side of the world…we still don't have anything normal it seems…."
"We're family now, Adam. Me and you. We're connected through your sister and your nephew. You're my brother now, too. And I'll do anything for my brother. Okay? Just remember that. When it comes to you and Sam, there's nothing I wouldn't do. Alright?"
He sniffled noisily and nodded and lifted his head from Flack's shoulder and back away. "Always wanted a brother growing up. But no, I had to have an older sister."
Flack smiled.
"Never thought I'd have a brother at my age," Adam gave a small laugh. "Especially a brother like you. I mean, you're like the massively popular captain of the hockey team that gets whatever girl you want and I'm the introverted, socially awkward mathlete."
"Hey, you managed to score someone like Broussard. That's no easy feat."
Adam smiled and wiped his face with the front of his shirt. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."
Flack nodded slowly. "I know that feeling. How a woman can just walk into your life and transform everything."
"Pretty surreal, huh?"
"Surreal, overwhelming, frightening. But I wouldn't change a damn thing about it."
"Just take care of her, Don. That's all I'm asking. Her and my nephew. Because she's been through so much and she deserves to be happy. Just take care of her."
Flack smiled and laid a hand on the back of Adam's neck. "That's all I want to do," he said, than led the way towards the exit.
"Thanks," Adam said, as the larger, older man yanked the door open. "For lots of things. Helping me out."
"Anytime, Ross," Flack told him, and followed the lab tech back into the club.
Leaving the frigid night and the secrets behind them.
Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and everyone of you!! Lurkers, please just give me a shout! Anyone who is enjoying MOB, please review. It really makes my day!!
Thanks to:
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