Sorry this is so late, my real life turned into "a very special episode of_" for a bit. Seems to be back on track again, so I should be able to post the next chapter soon.

Disclaimer- Gilmore Girls and the characters associated with the show are not mine.

Chapter Seventeen- Monday, 8AM- Liz

Sometimes, it's like I'm not in my body… making choices. Like I'm standing outside myself and I'll ask -Lizzie, what the fuck are you doing? You know this isn't good for you. How are you going to take care of baby Jenny drunk? Stop drinking! But I don't listen. This morning, writing this hung over, I know I should be trying to figure out how to find money to get the heat turned back on. Jessie and the baby have to be freezing, but there's no money, and Jenny's daddy left too. Except he left when I told him I was pregnant and we didn't get married. At least Jimmy stuck around that long. I'm tired. I feel like I've been raising babies forever.

When the metal box was delivered into Detective Blake's hands after being declared safe to touch by the hazmat guys, Blake was eager to rummage through it. But a birth certificate for her daughter, and a stack of notebooks were the only items inside. Hoping the notebooks were full of sources and contacts, Blake began thumbing through them. An hour of skimming later, his stomach was tight, he was popping tums, and reaching for the phone.

"Mrs. Gilmore-Danes? Yes this is Detective Blake. I was checking in to see if everything went okay with the boyfriend? And when is the funeral? Are her children attending? No, no, just tying up some loose ends on my reports. Thank you."

Hanging up the phone, he leaned back in his chair, and clasped his hands across his gut. Digging his cell phone out of his pocket, he fiddled with it, opening it, closing it. Dialing numbers and disconnecting before the ring. After a few more minutes of contemplation, he made his decision, and dialed. Hanging up, after confirming his flight, he took a deep breath. That was the easy part. From here on out it would be trickier. Standing, he moved to the Chief's office, and knocking on the door frame, let himself in.

"What can I do for you, Blake?" the Chief asked, watching his detective with narrowed eyes. Blake was the son of his best friend, and the Chief was glad to have a cop of his caliber at his station, but he'd known this kid since he'd worn his first diaper, and he could tell something was bothering the Detective.

"My stomach is acting up. The case is closed. Nothing more there, but my stomach is acting up," Blake replied, meeting the other man's eyes evenly.

"Ah, Kid, why now? What strings are left hanging?"

"Don't call me Kid. I haven't been a kid for a very long time. And none. There are no strings still hanging. It's a personal thing. The woman has a son. He's not coming to her funeral, and I know he should. Him not showing, is making my stomach ache."

"Why? You don't know him, do you? God-dammit Blake, if you worked on a case you shouldn't, jeopardizing what we're building against her distributor, I will kick your ass across this room," the Chief said, with his hands on his desk, anger radiating from his body, red creeping from his neck into his cheeks. Blake shook his head with a small smile.

"Settle down before you stroke out. Relax, Chief. I don't know this family, he's a writer, and I've read his work, but I don't think that has anything to do with it. It's my gut talking. And then there's these," Blake said, passing the notebooks over. Watching as his chief thumbed through the most recent one, before scanning the others.

"How far back do they go?" he asked.

"To the birth of her son. The first entry was written in the hospital. He should have these," Blake added. The Chief nodded, his disgust at what he was reading evident by the tightening of his lips. "I'll need a couple days off. I'm flying out tomorrow morning. If that's okay with you?"

"Your gut, you say? Alright Kid. You can have the time off, but you make it up when you get back," the Chief said, shaking his head at Blake's look of disgust at being called kid again. Blake pulled the door closed behind him, and realized he had one more stop to make before packing to leave.

"Mrs. Gilmore-Danes? It's Detective Blake again, can you and Mr. Danes meet me today? Yes, I'll be there in less than an hour. Thank you."

A/N- Drop me a note regarding pacing, or tell me if I should add journal entries to the beginning chapters… or review. Good? Bad? Ho-Hum?