DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN
A/N: MOB IS BACK! AND I HOPE ALL THE FANS OF IT WILL COME BACK AS WELL.
I'D LIKE TO TAKE THE TIME TO APOLOGIZE TO ALL OF MY LOYAL READERS AND MY FRIENDS WHO HAVE BEEN FOLLOWING THIS STORY, AND ALL MY OTHERS, SINCE THE VERY BEGINNING. I AM ASHAMED THAT I HAVE IGNORED MOB AND VFB. THEY WERE MY FIRST LOVES AND I ALLOWED OUTSIDE FORCES TO TUG ME AWAY FROM THEM IN FAVOUR OF OTHER STORIES. AND BY THAT, I MEAN TOGETHER WE FALL. WHICH IS WHY I CHOSE TO TAKE IT DOWN. IT JUST WASN'T WORKING FOR ME AND MAKING ME HAPPY ANYMORE. THIS STORY, (ALONG WITH VFB AND OB OG) AND ITS FANS, DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER THAN THAT AND I AM TRULY SORRY. WHAT CAN I SAY? I NEVER DID DO WELL WITH PEER PRESSURE. LOL. SO I THANK ALL OF YOU WHO WILL GIVE THIS STORY, AND ME, ANOTHER CHANCE! I AM FOLLOWING MY HEART FROM NOW ON. AND SORRY TO ANY FRIENDS I MAY HAVE HURT ALONG THE WAY. LOSING YOU WAS NOT WORTH PLEASING OTHER PEOPLE.
A HUGE THANKS TO: MY VERY DEAR FRIEND HOPE4SALL WHO MADE ME REALIZE THAT MAKING MYSELF HAPPY WAS MOST IMPORTANT.
MUCHMADNESS: FOR UNDERSTANDING WHAT A DIFFICULT TIME I AM GOING THROUGH RL WISE AND MAKING ME REALIZE THAT THIS SHOULD BE JUST ABOUT HAVING FUN!
LAURZZ: LET'S SHOW THE HATERS THAT WE CAN HAVE DIFFERENCES IN OPINIONS AND STILL BE FRIENDS. THAT WE CAN SUPPORT ONE ANOTHER NO MATTER WHAT. CAN WE DO THAT?
AND TO ALL OF YOU WHO HAVE BEEN THERE FROM THE BEGINNING, ESPECIALLY APHINA, MADISON BELLOWS, MUCHMADNESS, GREGROX, IMASUPERNATURALCSI, SOCCER-BITCH, LAPLANDGURL, BLUEHAVEN4220 AND MANY OTHERS, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE FAITH YOU'VE SHOWN IN ME TIME AND TIME AGAIN.
OKAY, SO THIS TAKES OFF FROM THE CHAPTERS BEFORE THE DRAMA WITH THE DNA TEST AND FLACK AND ANGELL. IT'S A PAST CHAP, SO ENJOY!
Painting the Town Blue: Part Three
"Remember when I was young and so were you
and time stood still and love was all we knew
You were the first, so was I
We made love and then you cried
Remember when
Remember when we vowed the vows and walked the walk
Gave our hearts, made the start, it was hard
We lived and learned, life threw curves
There was joy, there was hurt
Remember when
Remember when old ones died and new were born
And life was changed, disassembled, rearranged
We came together, fell apart
And broke each others hearts
Remember when
Remember when the sound of little feet
was the music
We danced to week to week
Brought back the love, we found trust
Vowed we'd never give up
Remember when."
-Remember When, Alan Jackson
Stepping out into the crisp night air, Samantha bypassed the crowd of smokers lingering around the front doors that led from the elegantly decorated ballroom, to the equally exquisite courtyard that had transformed into a lounge area. Beautifully created topiaries and floral arrangments graced mauve tulle covered table tops while white satin coverings had been draped over otherwise average wooden chairs and lounges. White lights glittered in the bushes and trees and along the edges of the round tables and top of the bar. A string quartet entertained the mingling guests; conversation and delightful music floating on the breeze.
She bypassed both the bar and the makeshift dance floor where several couples swayed to the classic offerings and made her way to a less popular area of the patio. Gathering her dress around her legs, she sunk down into one of the empty chaise lounges, and snapping open her clutch style purse, plucked out her metallic pink cell phone. Flipping it open, she powered it up, waiting for the jingling tone that indicated it was coming to life, and a beep that would indicate waiting voice messages -none came, which she figured was a good thing sign that all hell wasn't breaking loose at home - before dialling the familiar number.
"Everything is fine!" Adam's voice blurted out the second he picked up. Recognizing her number when it appeared on the call display on the phone in the kitchen. "Don't be so paranoid and go and enjoy your night!"
"I am enjoying my night," she assured him. "For the most part."
"What's that suppose to mean?" he asked.
"It means that I am, for the most part, having a nice time tonight. It's nice to get out with my husband and actually wear something other than my pyjamas or sweat pants and baby puke stained t-shirts. And we are definitely planning on putting that amazing hotel room to good use."
"Well just keep those dirty thoughts and plans to yourself," Adam suggested. "So what part of your night aren't you having a nice time with?" he asked.
"It's the other wives," she replied with a sigh. "Not just the regular wives of the regular cops like that Don. But the wives of the brass. Anyone who is anyone within the NYPD is here tonight. And their spouses apparently think that being married to anyone who is anyone within the blue machine makes them akin to Godliness."
"Aren't you technically married to someone who is anyone who is anyone within the blue machine?" her brother questioned.
"No. I'm technically the daughter in law to someone who is someone in the blue machine," Sam corrected. Then frowned. "If that just wasn't the most confusing sentence I've ever spoken in my entire life. Quit going all cryptic on me and talk like a normal human being, Peanut."
"The point I'm trying to make is that Flack is destined to be one of those someone's in the department," Adam clarified. "Look how fast he's climbed the ladder since the day he graduated from the academy. All the records he's shattered and the people he's impressed and the amazing amount of busts, both ordinary and extraordinary he has under his belt. He's going places within the department. So in a sense, you're married to…"
"Let's not get into that rambling nonsense again," she laughed. "I get what you're trying to say. Yes, he will someday be a huge thing within the department. And he's come a long way at such a young age and there are no words to describe how proud I am of him. But at that moment, the only someone who is someone in the Flack family is Senior. And honestly, I don't know if I want Donnie to be someone. I just want him to be himself."
"He's always going to be himself outside of the job," Adam pointed out. "Doesn't matter how high up the ladder he climbs. He's still the same Flack at home that he's always been."
She grinned. "And here I was thinking I had too much to drink so early in the evening," she teased. "Or is it something that you've been smoking that's making you talk like this?"
"Ha-ha," Adam snorted. "Very funny. You know I gave that shit up as soon as I met Gussie."
"That's because you know she'd kick your ass up and down the city if you didn't put your frat boy like antics to rest for good," Sam said. "Was there every any doubt that someone as sophisticated and classy as her would tolerate that kind of thing? She's the best thing that ever happened to you, you know. She keeps you in line. Smartens you up. She was definitely a Godsend when it comes to you, Peanut."
"She is," he agreed, and Sam could tell by the tone of her brother's voice that there was a huge grin spreading from ear to ear. "I guess seeing me this happy just makes all those visits to the department shrinks worth it, huh?"
"I wouldn't go that far," Sam laughed. "But there was definitely a hidden agenda on God's part. Why else would he send me to Gus? It was obviously for a reason, right? If I'd never been chastised for my unladylike behaviour, you never would have met the love of your life. So see? Me being a massive bitch to Lindsay Monroe served a purpose in the grand scheme of things."
"You were both massive, annoying, immature bitches," Adam said. "At least the two of you are somewhat friends now. Even if it is while you're both thousands of miles apart."
"Emails and chats on MSN do not make us besties by any means," Sam told him. "But I figured if Danny's so hell bent on fucking Erica over all the time for Lindsay, I might as well at least be civil right? And besides, I promised Donnie I'd be nicer to people. That I'd repent and make amends with the people I've wronged."
Adam laughed at that. "Does that graciousness go both ways? Is he doing the same thing?"
"So far it's a one way street," Sam admitted. "But we can't go through life hating people and never forgiving. Everyone deserves a second chance, right? It's the great thing about life. While you still have the chance you can take back all the shitty things you've ever said and done to other people. Cleanse your soul, so to speak. I doubt Lindsay and I will ever be tight, but at least we both have a chance to apologize for what went down while she was here. Not that either of us have sucked it up and made the first step, mind you."
"Maybe neither of you ever will," Adam reasoned. "There's no law stating that you have to like Lindsay or she has to like you. We can't all be universally loved. We weren't all put on earth to be friends with each other. Life just doesn't work that way. You don't want to be friends with someone, you don't have to be. Simple as that."
"What have you been smoking?" Sam laughed. "Seriously…you're talking some crazy, deep stuff tonight."
"I'm just trying to make you realize that you don't need to do something because other people think it's a good idea or tell you to. You're your own person. Do what makes you happy and screw everyone else. They don't like it, they can keep their mouths shut and shove their opinions up their ass."
She grinned. "God…remind me to thank Gussie for turning you into this macho, tough talking, swaggering thing the next time I see her. If I wasn't your sister, I'd be seriously into you."
"You would?" Adam asked, sounding surprised.
"Well…no," Sam admitted and laughed. "You're just not my type, Peanut. Blood relation or not. Sorry. And speaking of blood relations, what would my beautiful baby boy be up to?"
"Danny's educating him in the finer art of the Playboy Channel. They're currently in front of the television ogling some brunette with monstrous boobs and a talent for being able to…."
"Do not finish that sentence," Sam cried. "I know full well what Danny and Don watch on that channel. I don't need to be reminded. Gross. Seriously gross. I'm definitely calling the cable company and getting rid of that damn channel."
"If it's not on the t.v., he's going to be looking at it on the 'net," Adam told her. "Neither is the lesser of two evils."
"He shouldn't be needing to look at stuff like that," Sam huffed. "But I guess when you're wife is the size of a double wide and makes you physically sick to see her naked…"
"Oh here we go," Adam sighed. "Here comes the I'm fat and disgusting rant. Don't make me come over there and make me put you over my knee and spank you."
Sam grimaced. "Don't be talking perverted, kinky shit to your own sister. What is wrong with you?"
"You are not fat," Adam told her. "You just had a baby two months ago. Did you honestly expect to drop back down to a size eight in the blink of an eye? Especially after all the problems you had. Just be thankful that you're healthy. That baby K is healthy. He's amazing and he's beautiful and you did a damn good job of bringing him into this world. He doesn't care if his mommy is a size three or a size twenty. Kid loves you regardless. And so does Flack."
"Yeah…he made it perfect clear when I got here how much he does love me regardless," she said. Then giggled before adding, "With words and actions."
"I so don't want to hear this!" Adam cried. "Why must you torture me like this?"
"Because it's fun," she said. "And because I can. So Kieran is doing what exactly…"
"He's out like a light in his crib. He had a bath, a bottle, got into his jammies, hung out in that swing while Danny and I had something to eat. The two of them fell asleep on the couch together. It was actually kinda cute. Danny stretched out with this little baby on his chest. I took pictures. I figure I might need them as blackmail someday."
"Well as long as everything's okay…" Sam said.
"We're fine. Kieran's fine. He's in great hands. Go and have some fun for Christsakes. You deserve it."
"Okay…you'll call, right? If anything happens to him?"
"What is going to happen to him? Danny and I are here. We're not going to leave him alone."
"He could get a really bad tummy ache," she reasoned. "Or his reflux might flare up and if he's lying on his back he could choke on it if he spits up and…"
"He's on his side, held in place with rolled up towels in the front and back. I know how to take care of him Sammie. I've been around, you know."
"I know. I just get…"
"Insanely paranoid?" he asked.
"He's my baby, Adam. I went through so much to get him here safely. I don't want anything happening to him. I just worry about him and I.."
"And you love him and he's the light of your life and the center of your universe," Adam finished. "I get it. I understand. And he's the center of Uncle Peanut's universe too. I'd die for that kid. And for you. So cut me some slack here and hang up the phone and have some fun. Buy a whole bottle of champagne and drink it yourself. Get totally polluted. Make Don carry you back to the room."
"Let him take advantage of me in wild, insanely dirty ways," she mused.
"I'm hanging up now!" Adam exclaimed. "That's just stuff a brother should never hear his sister say!"
"Speaking of things you should never hear me say, did Gussie tell you that we're going to Angell's Pleasure Party next Saturday?"
"She did. And I can't believe Angell's having one of those things. Please tell me you're not actually going to buy anything."
"Are you kidding? I'm going to clean the place out! That way I can retire all my old sex toys and my husband and just…"
"My virgin ears!" Adam cried.
"Oh relax. I'm just joking. I'm actually going for the lingerie show part. Jess is planning on doing some of the modelling herself. And seeing as we're each other's girl crushes, she says she's got this really naughty French Maid outfit picked out just for me."
"Good-bye, Sammie!" Adam yelled into the phone.
The line went dead.
Grinning, Sam pressed end on her cell phone and snapping it close, dropped into her purse before standing up. Smoothing down the back of her dress, she slipped her feet back into her shoes, tucked the small bag under her arm and headed across the patio, heels clicking on the cement as she once again bypassed the dance floor. Smirking at the sight of the police commissioner with his hand on his much younger date's ass as she squealed in sheer delight as he nibbled lightly on the side of her neck.
To each his own, Sam thought and headed for the bar. Snapping her purse open once again, she pulled out one of many of the beverage tickets she and Flack had purchased before heading into the ballroom. Tapping the corner of the ticket on the bar, she waited quietly and patiently for the bartender to finish up with his other customers. Groaning inwardly and nervously fidgeting with the beads on her clutch as Inspector Gerard stepped up alongside of her. Noticing as he gave her a small, respectful once over before clearing his throat noisily.
Samantha felt…uncomfortable. To say the least. It was the first time she'd been alone with the man since barging into his office months before, demanding answers and explanations and information about the botched raid and the whereabouts of her then fiance. She hadn't been written up or 'dealt with' in any way shape or form. Although she had heard from reliable sources, that it had taken a lot of arguing and near begging and pleading on Flack's behalf to get Gerrard to allow her to escape from her actions unscathed. And she wondered if maybe he'd personally followed her outside to give her what she knew was a well deserved and earned reaming out.
"What can I get you miss?" the young bartender asked, snapping her out of her paranoia induced daze.
"I'll take a pink champagne. Please and thank you," she replied, holding the ticket out. Then finding herself slightly taken aback when Gerrard reached over top of her, took a hold of the bartender's wrist and laid two beverage tickets into the young man's palm.
"And I'll have a double malt scotch," he requested.
The bartended nodded and hurried off to prepare their order.
"Thank you," Samantha said sincerely, as she tucked her ticket back into her purse.
Gerrard simply nodded. That stern, cold, tight lipped expression never leaving his face.
Sam sighed inwardly and stared down at her feet. Absentmindedly tracing the pattern on the intricately laid mosaic tiling with the toe of her shoe. Tension hung heavily in the air. The longer the silence continue, the more anxious she became, and she fought the overwhelming urge to say something. Anything. Inspector Stanton Gerrard simply terrified her. More than any other man, aside from her birth father, had ever done in her entire life.
Bored with the designs at her feet, she cleared her throat and commenced drumming her well manicured fingernails on the top of the bar.
Gerrard's head snapped towards her. His eyes riveted on her profile before they travelled down to her hands. The noise obviously irritated him. And his expression did little to disguise his annoyance.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly and used her free left hand to still her offending right one. "Nervous habit."
The bartender finally returned, presenting them with their drinks before receiving a five dollar tip from the Inspector.
"Thank you again," Sam said to Gerrard, her fingers curling around the stem of her champagne flute. "I better go inside and…"
"There's a few things I'd like to say to you," Gerrard told her, his hand lightly capturing her wrist as she stepped away from the bar.
"I really need to get inside," she insisted. "I've been gone a long time and Don will be thinking I've run off on him. So if you'll excuse me…"
"I just need a moment of your time," the Inspector assured her, and motioned towards an empty table.
Sighing, Sam relegated herself to the fact that there was no escape. She nodded and retreated to the table after he released from his grasp. Setting his drink down on the table, Gerrard pulled her chair out and waited for her to lower herself before pushing it back in and then taking a seat beside her.
"What is it you want to say?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound as nervous as she felt.
"I want to talk to you about Don," he replied. "And how far he's come in his career."
Sam nodded slowly.
"And how far he's come with his life in general," Gerrard added.
She smiled.
"I've known Donnie Junior for a long, long time," Gerrard began. "I was partners with his father working out of the three five. We went through the academy together. We were inseparable. Best of friends. I was best man at his wedding. I was the first to visit and bring cigars when his name sake was born. I held that kid when he was just minutes hold. Went to all his birthday parties. Grade eight graduation, high school graduation. Academy graduation. He is…he was…like a son to me. Somewhere along the lines, we lost that. Did you know that your husband comes from a long line of NYPD royalty?"
Sam nodded and sipped her champagne. "His father, his grandfather. Several uncles. A few great uncles. I know that the last name Flack is legendary in the department. And that he's had some unbelievably big shoes to fill."
"And he's filled them," Gerrard concluded. "Admirably. He's filled them and then some. Your husband…Don…is a major asset to the NYPD. I'll refrain from using the term Golden Boy. I know how both of you just cringe when someone uses those words. But there's something you need to understand. If you don't already. Don…he has something special. Something that the family members before him never had. Even his father. And that's the gift of empathy. He has a gift. He's exceptionally good at his job. I've never seen better. He's firm and assertive and aggressive. He tolerates no b.s. and doesn't hand any out. He's seen a lot for his young age. He's coped with a lot. And through all of that, he's never lost his ability to feel. To sympathize with the victims and their families. And that, to have the ability to still have compassion while on the job, to still be human, is incredible. He comes from good stock, but he's in a league of his own. And I hope you realize and appreciate the kind of man he is."
"I know what kind of man he is," Sam said, touched by Gerrard's uncharacteristically eloquent words. "Especially outside of the job. He's an incredibly sensitive, kind hearted, wonderful man. I'm blessed that I'm able to see, and know the real Don Junior. The husband that took care of me and never left my side while I was ill in the hospital. Who would defend me at all costs. The father who walks the floor for hours trying to comfort his colicky baby despite the fact he just walked in the door after working a triple. Who never complains about being tired and whose eyes light up every time he picks up his son. I'm lucky to have him in my life."
Gerrard finally showed the hint of a smile. "I want you to know that I really noticed a change in him once he got married and became a father. A change for the better. He grew up. And that was a long time coming."
"I like to think that we both grew up," Sam said. "That we helped each other mature. We've been through a lot and we've shown that we can get through anything. And there are no words to describe to you how proud of him I am. When I think about everything that he's achieved…he deserves this. He deserves this night. And I have you to thank for making it happen."
The Inspector arched a quizzical eyebrow.
"I know what you did for him. How you convinced Chief Sinclair to give Donnie the promotion to Sargent. I know that he didn't do well on his test. At all. And that Chief Sinclair was going to tell the commissioner to not allow the promotion to go through. If it wasn't for you, this night wouldn't be happening. So…" she offered her hand. "Thank you."
He reached across the table and gently and warmly shook the hand offered to him. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye," he said.
"That's an understatement," she laughed. "And don't take it personally. I seem to have that issue with a lot of people."
Another smile tugged at his lips. "You should get inside," he told her, as he got to his feet and standing behind her, pulled her chair away from the table. "I've kept you long enough."
She looked up at him and gave a smile of her own before standing up. "Thank you," she said. "For saying all those things. Maybe one day, you'll be able to say it to the person who deserves to hear it."
"One day," he assured her. "I think it's something we should all learn to do. Say the things we need to say before it's too late and we're left with nothing but regret. That's something we should all do. It's a terrible thing to wake up and realize you'd used up all of your chances."
"Definitely not something I want on my conscience ," Sam said, picking up her champagne flute. "There's a lot I need to change in my life," she solemnly admitted.
"You're young," Gerrard reminded her "You have lots of time. Lots of chances to do things differently."
She nodded and smiled. "It was lovely talking to you, Inspector," she said.
"You as well," he responded, and watched as she turned on her heel and headed towards the entrance of the ballroom. A broad, genuine smile slowly spreading across his face as he finally realized something very, very important.
Donald Flack Junior had definitely done something amazing with his life.
"There's a familiar face," Stella commented, beaming brightly and getting to her feet as Samantha approached the table where she and Mac sat talking to Flack. "We were starting to wonder if you'd run off with someone tall, dark and handsome," she teased, embracing the petite brunette warmly. "I know what a sucker you are for anyone in a uniform."
"Dress blues get me every time," Sam laughed, and the held her friend out at arm's length. "Check you out," she said, giving a low whistle of appreciation as she admired Stella's elegant up-do and her sexy, yet sophisticated plum coloured, crepe Grecian style gown and matching pumps. "Mac's going to be beating all the guys off with a stick. You look fabulous. Not that that's anything new when it comes to you."
"Not like you're anything to sneeze at either," Stella commented, eyeing Sam from head to toe. "Look at you! You look beautiful!"
"Thanks…" Sam blushed slightly, never the one to take compliments easily. "I wish I still didn't look six months pregnant though."
Stella waved it off. "It's going to take some time, kiddo. You had a lot of problems. You really didn't expect to just wake up the morning after he was born and weight a hundred pounds soaking wet, did you?"
"I wish!" she laughed. "I haven't been a hundred pounds since I was twelve. You've seen my employee file, Stell. You know it's about twenty five pounds higher."
"The day you weigh a hundred twenty five pounds is the day pigs fly," the other woman declared.
"Oh look!" Sam cried, pointing towards the patio. "There goes a little porker right now! Wearing a cute little cape and tights! On his way to save the city from evil!"
"Okay smart ass," Stella laughed. Then hugged the smaller woman once again. "God I miss you at work. Hurry up and come back, okay? Who do I have to keep me amused? Who else do I have to make me laugh when I walk by the trace lab and find them listening to an Ipod, singing off key and dancing around?"
"Adam?" Sam suggested. "He's the comedian in the family."
"I think you're both in contention for top prize in that," Mac commented, catching the tail end of their conversation as he and Flack both stood up. He leaned in close and pressed a kiss to both of Sam's cheeks.
"Admit it Mac, us Ross siblings keep you young," Sam teased.
"You two give me grey hair is what you do," he laughed. "If it's not Adam and his ramblings and his Second Life battles, it's you tackling perps in back alleys and catching elbows in the face."
"And you wonder why I have all this grey hair at such a young age," Flack said, playfully winking at his wife before laying a hand on the small of her back and pressing a kiss to her temple.
"That's it Flack," Stella punched him playfully in the stomach. "Blame it all on her. Instead of all those wild and crazy girlfriends you had before her. Blame it on the one person who finally succeeded in taming you."
"Jesus Stell," Flack frowned. "Do you really have to say that out loud? That she tamed me? I've got a reputation to uphold here."
"Please," she rolled her eyes. "The minute that ring went on your finger and you signed that licence, any reputation you had went down the toilet."
"Are you listening to this, Mac?" the detective asked him. "Are you listening to your future wife and what she's spewing? Aren't you just a little bit afraid?"
"A little," Mac joked, smiling tenderly at his fiancee before pecking her cheek. "But a little bit of fright is worth a lifetime of love."
Flack's eyes widened as he regarded Stella. "What in the hell have you done to him?"
Sam elbowed her husband playfully in the stomach. "Ignore him. This is a guy that has absolutely no game and can't appreciate a sweet, romantic gesture."
"Yes I can," Flack argued, feigning hurt. "A sweet, romantic gesture is how your son came about."
"No…that was a drunk, unromantic gesture," Sam corrected with a laugh. "You're delusional. And check you out, Mac. You're looking quite dashing this evening. No wonder Stella's keeping a tight reign on you."
"I'll be reigning you in if you don't get your Marine Mac crush under control," Flack playfully warned her, then chuckled as he avoided a second elbow to the gut.
"So are you getting nervous, Mac?" Sam asked. "Two weeks to go."
"Fourteen days until you strap on that ball and chain," Flack said with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.
"Hey! I happen to be a very attractive, sexy ball and chain!" Stella informed him. "If you ask me, both of you putz' are lucky to have us. Look at all these fine specimens walking around. We could easily go around the room right now and in ten minutes have two dozen phone numbers a piece. But instead, we're content being here with you two. Count your lucky stars, gentlemen. Come on Sam. Let's grab some champagne and discuss MY wedding."
The two women linked arms and wandered off.
Flack and Mac looked at each other. The detective smirked. The crime lab boss raised his eyebrows.
"You're scared now, aren't ya," Flack stated, giving a knowing nod.
"Honestly, Don, I think anxious is the more correct term to describe how I'm feeling," the older man said, watching as Stella and Samantha met up with Jessica Angell and her date for the night - a prominent politician twice her age and just coming off a high profile divorce- at the main entrance of the ballroom.
The three women gave their obligatory squeals of delight, sized up each other's appearances and showered each other with compliments, and hugged tightly. Mac turned to Flack, quizzical eyebrow arched at the sight of Sam and Angell, once arch enemies, embracing.
"Oh they're besties now," Flack explained. "Surreal, huh? The ex and the wife hanging out together? Makes me cringe when I think about what they could be saying about me when they get together. Like what could they be doing when they're hanging out? I came home the other night and Angell was over and I could hear her and Sam laughing all the way down at the elevator. Second I walked in, they shut up. That can only mean one thing. They were talking shit about me. Comparing notes or something."
"I think that's just a little bit paranoid," Mac said, as the two men took a seat once again at the table and returned to their drinks. "Is it just me or is Samantha softening up just a little bit?"
"Christ, Mac. Don't ever let her hear you say that," Flack chuckled and took a sip of his JD on the rocks. "I don't know if she's softening up. She's always had that real girlie, dainty way about her once you get past that tough Brooklyn girl crap she wants people to see. I think she's just…I don't know…I think she's lonely. It can't be just me and Kieran all the time. She needs friends. Her and Carmen are still tight, just things haven't been the same since Speed left. Well, since K was born really. They'll be alright though. They're working on it."
"Good. And you know that Stella and I are always here for the both of you, right?"
Flack nodded.
"Do you think maybe it's post-partum?" Mac asked gently.
"Depression? Sammie? I doubt it. She doesn't seem that way to me. She doesn't seem down or anything. A little mother hen protective when it comes to both me and K, but not depressed. She's doing really well, Mac. She's an amazing mother. K's her whole life."
"And you?" Mac asked. "I know it's been two months. But things have been so crazy at work that I haven't gotten the chance to ask how you're feeling."
"I'm good," Flack told him. "I'm doing good. I love being a dad. Kieran's my boy, Mac. There's nothing I wouldn't do for him. Or for my wife."
"But…I sense a but coming on here."
"But…and I'm going to sound like a complete asshole for saying this…but I miss Sammie. Or I miss what we could have had. The time that we could have had together. Just the two of us. Things happened so quickly between us. We never really got a chance to…" Flack sighed heavily and took a swig of his drink. "We never got a chance to be together as a couple. With no one else in the picture. We went almost straight from dating each other casually to being a serious thing. And no sooner did that happen, we found out that she was pregnant. And that was our fault. We should have been more careful. But at the same time, had we been, Kieran wouldn't be here and I wouldn't give my son back for anything in the world."
"It's perfectly understandable to miss what you had. Or miss what you could have had," Mac assured him. "Like you said, things happened quickly. Very quickly in fact. Don, in less than a year you became a husband and a father. That's a lot of adjustment for one person. So it's normal if you have some regrets."
Flack shook his head firmly. "No regrets," he said. "They're not regrets, Mac. I don't regret a thing. I don't regret meeting Sammie and falling in love with her. I don't regret having Kieran or getting married. It's definitely not regrets. They're my world and I can't imagine not having either of them in my life. No regrets…just wishes I guess. To have one thing but have another. If that makes sense."
Mac nodded.
"I shouldn't have said anything," Flack grumbled. "Now I look like a major prick."
"You're human, Don. It's okay to have doubts. To make mistakes. To feel scared. No one is perfect. This isn't a television show where the characters don't have faults. Or some kind of novel or story where the main characters are picture perfect and everyone else around them messes up while they stay untarnished. This is real life. With real things at stake. And if anything, you being honest like this, with not just me but with yourself? If anything I respect you more for that. For not hiding it away."
"I just miss Sammie," the detective admitted. "I miss having just her around. As selfish as it sounds, I miss when it was just me that was the centre of her life. Christ…I don't know…" he downed the rest of his drink quickly. "I'm talking a lot of shit here. I shouldn't have started in on it all. I'm sorry. Ignore me."
"Don, if you need to…"
"So things are going good?" Flack asked, anxious to change the subject. "Wedding wise and all of that?"
Mac nodded and finishing his drink, waved a waiter over to the table and placed an order for both himself and Flack. "I'm glad that we just went with something really small," he responded to Flack's question. "I don't think either of us could have handled the preparations of a big wedding with the full plates we have professional wise. And really, something quiet and small…it just seemed to suit us more."
"Quiet and small seems to be the way to go," Flack said. "I like that Sammie and I went that way. I mean, a big thing would have been okay, too. I would have killed to see her in a white dress and a veil. The whole nine. But the way we did things was good for us. Especially at the point our lives were at with the baby coming. You and Stella thinking about having any kids?"
"Let us get past the wedding first, okay Flack?" Mac chuckled. "Kids would be nice. Really nice. Just we're not getting any younger and things get harder the older you get."
"Just means you gotta get down to brass tactics," Flack reasoned. "Stella want to have kids?" he asked.
"Stella was ready to have kids YESTERDAY," Mac replied. "The sooner the better as far as she's concerned. Seeing Kieran born and spending time with him…it's made her desire to be a mother even stronger."
"Kid needs some cousins, Mac," Flack laughed. "I can't sit back and rely on Messer when he's too busy trying to figure out what to do with his life. One day it's Erica, next it's Lindsay. On and on an on. It's ridiculous. Either or. Not both. And personally? Personally I think he needs to just leave the past where it belongs. In the past. Concentrate on what he has right in front of him. That's my opinion."
"Sometimes the past has a way of sneaking into the present whether we want it to or not," Mac said. "It's up to Danny to figure out his life. And up to us to support him."
"We gotta draw the line somewhere. He's my best friend and I love the guy like a brother. But somewhere I need to step back and concentrate on my own life and stop bailing him out of jams so much. It gets…repetitive. Tiring. Things change, Mac. Life changes. And I've got a family I need to worry about now. I need to step back from other things and concentrate on my priorities."
"And I'm sure Danny will understand that," Mac told him. "One day."
"One day," Flack sighed.
Mac paused before saying anything else as the waiter brought over their drinks. Both men nodded in appreciation and picking up their glasses, toasted each other silently.
"Speaking of the past sneaking up on us," Mac said, swirling the ice around in his drink. "You won't believe who called me yesterday. At the office."
"Just tell me it wasn't that nut job Drew Bedford," Flack implored. "Or that you don't have some other stalker after you."
"Nothing like that," the older man chuckled. "It was Peyton."
Flack arched his eyebrows.
"She wanted to catch up," Mac said. "And wanted to know if there was an opening at the ME's office."
The detective nearly choked on a sip of JD and coughed noisily. "What did you say?"
"I told her that there was a spot open and Sid would love the help. But that I didn't think it was appropriate to bring her back. Mind you, that would be Sid's ultimate decision. If she contacted him and he wanted to bring her back on board, that's his business. I just told her I felt it wasn't right."
"You tell her about you and Stella?" Flack asked.
Mac nodded. "She congratulated me. Asked me to pass on her best wishes to Stella. And she seemed genuinely happy for us. Then she told me she missed me. Missed us. And that she'd made a huge mistake by staying in London and giving us up."
"Her loss was Stella's gain though," Flack reasoned. "If she hadn't have left, if things had have stayed the same, you and Stella wouldn't be where you are now. And no offence Mac, but if you had have stuck with Peyton and ruined your chance with Stella, I would have had to seriously kill you."
Mac chuckled. "Stella and I were meant to be. I truly believe that. And I told Peyton that too. That a year ago, I would have been begging her to come back. That I would have been telling her I missed her too and professing my love for her. But now…things have changed. I've changed. But there's the proof that the past doesn't always stay there."
"True.." Flack said with a nod. "But if my past ever comes back like that…I don't know…that's the kind of drama I don't need in my life."
"What are you two going on about?" Stella asked, as she and Sam returned to the table. She laid her hands on Mac's shoulders as she stood behind his chair and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
"Life and love," Mac replied. "About the women we have in our lives and wouldn't trade for anything in the world."
"Oh I don't know about that," Sam mused as she sank into the chair alongside of her husband and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed a kiss on her temple. "I think Donnie would trade me in for Rachel Bilson in a heartbeat."
"Not a chance," he told her and covered her lips with his in a soft kiss. "You're stuck with me babe," he said, pecking her forehead. "Through thick and thin. Till death do us part and all that other crap."
"Crap," she laughed. "So romantic, Don."
"You didn't marry me for my romance," he reminded her.
"No…I didn't…" she said, and smiling tenderly at him, laid her hand on his cheek and ran her thumb across his top lip. "There were a lot of other reasons."
"Yeah? Maybe later you can tell me what they are."
Her smile broadened and she leaned forward in her chair and pressing her lips to his ear, whispered softly to him.
Flack grinned. "I'm going to hold you to that," he informed her. "I'm looking forward to it, too."
"So am I," she said, and sipped her champagne.
His smile softened as he laid a hand softly on her knee and regarded her affectionately. He was looking forward to a lot of things with her. To life with her.
A life with no regrets.
Thanks to all of my readers, friends, fans, reviewers, lurkers. Just thank you all for all of your support and kind words! I hope to hear from all of you! Flamers need not waste their time. Life's too short for the drama so keep it to yourselves please and thank you.
Special thanks to:
Hope4sall
Laplandgurl
much madness
Shadowrose666
DeliriousNYC
Bluehaven4220
Laurzz
IluvPeterPetrelli
HighQueenReicheru
Soccer-bitch
Delko's Girl 88
SpankyMcDoogleFace
ImaSupernaturalCSI
Forest Angel
Wolfeylady