DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN
A/N: SPECIAL THANKS TO APHINA
SOMEONE ASKED FOR A SAM AND LINDS RECONCILIATION. SO IT'S ON IT'S WAY! SHOUTS OUT TO LAURZZ AND MUCHMADNESS AND ALL MY DL GALZ!
AND THANKS TO ALL OF YOU WHO HELPED ME REACH 400 REVIEWS! XXXX BEG75
Regrets, I've had a few
"He and I had something beautiful
But so dysfunctional, it couldn't last
I loved him so but I let him go
'Cause I knew he'd never love me back
Such pain as this
Shouldn't have to be experienced
I'm still reeling from the loss,
Still a little bit delirious
Near to you, I am healing
But it's taking so long
'Cause though he's gone
And you are wonderful
It's hard to move on
Yet, I'm better near to you.
You and I have something different
And I'm enjoying it cautiously
I'm battle scarred, I am working oh so hard
To get back to who I used to be."
-Near to You, A Fine Frenzy
There were twenty-seven Monroe's in Bozeman, Montana.
Sam's eyes had widened when she had seen the total come up on the screen when she'd typed in the surname in the on line directory. In a place like New York City, where the general popular was well over eight million, a measly two dozen plus Monroe's was a damn drop in the bucket. But somewhere with just over thirty-five thousands inhabitants, twenty-seven seemed like a staggering amount.
Keeping her activities from Danny had proved somewhat of a challenge. They had been relegated to the trace lab and in between running samples and comparing them, she had been switching back and forth on the screens on the computer in front of her. When he was talking to her and actually looking in her direction, she had the screen on the tests results she was supposed to be studying. When he moved to GC/MS or a microscope, she switched back to the Bozeman, Montana home page. Taken back by the stunning simplicity of the Rocky Mountain community. The charm of it's downtown area and the beauty of it's parks. The allure of Story Mansion. A gorgeous, massive Tudor home that sat on picturesque property and boasted splendorous gardens.
She was seriously considering to hell with Danny and taking the trip herself. She could only imagine how quiet Bozeman was. How friendly and down to earth the people were compared to the often arrogant, obnoxious citizens of New York City. She would have given anything to wake up in a charming, quaint bed an breakfast and step out onto a private patio in her pyjamas and sit down with a cup of tea while listening to the birds chirp and the wind rustle the trees all while looking out at the Rockies in the distance. A little slice of heaven that she would more than welcome into the zaniness and hustle and bustle of her life.
Danny had nearly caught her a couple of times. When he'd suddenly glanced over to ask her a question or ask for her assistance with something and she almost hadn't closed the window on the screen soon enough. She'd seen the quizzical way he'd arched his eyebrows. And had been quick to interrupt him when he attempted to open his mouth to ask her what the hell she was up to.
In the end, she'd made an excuse that she needed a breath of fresh air while her samples ran through the mass-spec and quickly logged off the Bozeman site so he wouldn't get too curious while she was gone and check out what she'd actually been up to. Instead of going outside however, she'd hurried down to their office, googled Bozeman once more and looked up their phone directory and typed in the name Monroe. Logging off once more and than snatching the results from the printer on her way out the door.
She retreated to the relatively barren employee lounge and made herself a snack. A bowl of Fruit Loops - God love Adam for leaving a box of his favourite cereal in the cupboard- made with chocolate milk and an overly ripe banana and yet another can of apple juice. She hunkered down on one of the couches with her food and her list of names and got out her cell and went to work.
She had called eleven of the numbers on her list. And no one had heard of a Lindsay Monroe. Sam highly doubted that and pressed somewhat aggressively. She even mentioned the Lindsay Monroe in question was dating, or whatever it was you wanted to call it, the governor. She still didn't get any information she wanted or needed. And even if they did know the Lindsay she was referring to, they certainly weren't giving out her whereabouts to some girl claiming to be a New York City detective even though her voice made her sound no older than thirteen.
On number thirteen she thought she hit pay dirt. The woman on the other end of the phone was bubbly and cheerfully and called her 'Hon' a number of times before finally telling her that sure she could talk to Lindsay. Lindsay was right in the next room. Fucking A, Sam had thought, than ran through a few greetings that would sound plausible and friendly to the young woman she'd treated like shit and often felt like she'd been responsible for driving out of town. She didn't want to seem too eager and nice. Because that made her sound like a major ass kisser. And no one could ever accuse her of having a brown nose. But she wanted to be warm and sincere enough that Lindsay Monroe wouldn't tell her to fuck off and hang up on her.
So with her heart pounding in her chest and her legs shaking nervously, she heard the phone being passed from one hand to the other and she mentally prepared herself for the coming events. Only once Lindsay got on the phone, it was clear that it wasn't the right Lindsay.
"Hello?" a voice had answered that sounded no older than ten.
"Whose this?" Sam had asked, startled.
"This is Lindsay. Whose this?" the child responded.
"How old are you?" Sam inquired.
"Seven," came the chirpy, happy voice.
Sam had hung up without even a good-bye, farewell or kiss my ass.
The fourteenth and fifteenth number were busts. Both went unanswered and eventually clicked onto machines. She left her name and a brief explanation of who and what she was looking for and her cell phone number.
She had just dialled the the sixteenth name on her list and it had rang twice when all hell threatened to break lose. She heard a familiar deep voice and tiny footsteps in the hallway outside of the break room, and now sooner did someone pick up at the Monroe home, she heard her husband instructing their son to turn left. Turn left, Kieran. No, your other left. In a near panic that she'd been busted, she slammed her phone shut, disconnecting the call in the process and jumped to her feet and sloppily folded the list and shoved it into her pocket before sitting back down again.
Feigning surprise, and innocence, when the two most important men in her life came wandering into the room. Kieran entered first. Showing off his walking skills with a proud, ecstatic look on his face. He looked like a small slice of heaven. A typical boy n his black, white and blue sweat suit with a baby Cookie Monster on the back and a Rangers cap turned backwards on his head and Go Diego Go running shoes with soles that lit up with every awkward step he took.
"Mommeee!" he squealed when he saw her sitting on the couch and clapped his hands excitedly and smiled brightly, his blue eyes sparkling as he moved as fast as his little legs could take him.
Sam held her breath at the same time she held out her arms to him. Praying to God the kid wasn't going to catch a foot in the carpet and go flying. Not that that would slow him down or stop him. Kieran had taken many a tumble in his quest for two legged mobility and each and every time he simply got up without even the slightest whimper and just continued on his way. But the last thing she wanted was him having a split open forehead or busted lip or mangled face on the break room coffee table.
He went down hard twice on the short trip from the doorway to the couch. The kid definitely didn't have the best balance and coordination in the world. And while Sam refrained from rushing to him and scooping him up into her arms and kissing his wounds better, she resisted and simply waited for him to recuperate and continue with his journey. He was never going to learn if she jumped in each time he had a fall or got a bump or a bruise. And she certainly didn't want to hear her husband's bitching and moaning that the more she cuddled their son and kisses the boo-boos all better, the more she was turning him into a wimp. Or a cupcake, as Flack preferred to say.
"Mommee!" Kieran cried happily as he finally reached the couch and held out his arms out to the sides as if to say, Look what I did!
"You did a great job!" she praised him. "You walked all that way by yourself?"
He nodded enthusiastically.
"What are you doing up here?" she asked, leaning forward to cup her son's chin in her hand and press a kiss to his lips.
"Dunno," he said and shrugged. "Juice!" he exclaimed, and pointed to the can sitting on the coffee table.
"I think your dad has some juice in your cup," Sam told him. "Wait for daddy to finish whoever it is he's talking to in the hallway and he'll give you your juice."
Kieran shook his head. "Dat juice!" he said adamantly. "Mommy juice!"
"That's right. Mommy's juice. Daddy's got your juice."
"Mine?" the toddler asked, reaching for the can.
"No," Sam intercepted it. "Daddy has your juice. This juice is bad. Too much sugar in it."
"Wat dat?" Kieran asked, pointing towards the cereal bowl.
"Fruit loops," Sam replied.
"Mine?" he asked hopefully.
"No. It's not yours. It's mommy's. Go and get your daddy and get your juice and mommy will find you a snack."
"Eat?" Kieran asked, putting the fingertips of his right hand to his lips and taping twice.
"That's right. I will get you something to eat. Good boy for remembering to use your sign. Kieran? Where's daddy?" Sam stretched the fingers out on her right hand as if making the sign for five, than turned her hand vertical and tapped her thumb to her forehead twice as she said daddy.
"Daddy?" Kieran asked, repeating the sign. He turned and pointed to the familiar face finally coming into the room. A tattered and faded blue and yellow striped blanket in one hand, a Sesame Street sippy cup with apple juice and a plastic bag from CVS in the other. Quite a sight when tossed in with the badge clipped to his pants and the gun resting in the holster on his right hip. "Dat's daddy!" Kieran informed his mother.
"He knows more signs than you do," Sam told her husband, as he leaned over them both to greet her with a kiss.
"He's got a bigger brain than I do," Flack retorted. "He already knows more words too."
"Who were you talking to?" she asked, dipping into her cereal.
"My girlfriend. Do you mind? I have to talk to her sometime before she dumps my ass."
Sam cleared her throat at the curse word and looked down at Kieran.
"What?" Flack asked. "Ass is not a curse word. It's a part of the human body. And what in the hell are you eating?"
"Fruit loops," she replied.
"In chocolate milk?" he grimaced. "God, must you? I gave up all those icky habits when I was like, I don't know, eight?"
"Apparently not all of them because you still pick your nose and eat it," she teased.
"Why do I love you?" he asked. "Tell me again? Because it's moments like this when I question my sanity."
"You love me because you just do," Sam told him. "There's no rhyme or reason to it. You just love me."
"Yeah? Well commit me now than," he said with a sigh and sat the sippy cup and the bag on the coffee table and gently laid the blanket on the back of the couch.
It seemed odd to an outsider seeing him handle a piece of fabric with gentle loving care. But no one outside of Sam knew that that was the blanket his mother had brought him home from the hospital in almost thirty-one years ago and that sometimes, although he'd passed it on to his son, the big bad homicide detective sometimes still slept with that blanket covering his feet.
"Sorry," Sam said and spooned cereal into her mouth. "I'd miss you too much."
"Want up, Kieran?" Flack asked his son, and went to lend the kid a hand as he struggled to hoist himself up onto the couch beside his mother.
"No!" he bellowed at the feel of his father's hands on his. "No, daddy! Me!"
"Fine…fine…" Flack held up his hands defensively. "Do it yourself than. If that's what you want."
"Me!" Kieran insisted, and after a minute of grunting and groaning and huffing and puffing and his parents watching somewhat impatiently, he finally managed to get himself up onto the sofa. Beaming broadly as if he'd just conquered Mount Everest. "Momeee!" he cried and threw himself at her.
"Kieran watch your mother's…" Flack began, terrified at the sight of his son's knees coming into contact with his wife's stomach.
"He's fine, Donnie," Sam assured him. "I'm fine. You need to relax a little. He doesn't know any better."
"I just don't want him kneeing you in the stomach or jumping on it," he said, sitting down on the couch across from her.
"I'm fine," she insisted, and wrapped her arms around her son's tiny body and tipped him sideways so he lay across her thighs as she tickled him and showered him with kisses and lifted the bottom of his shirt to blow noisy raspberries on his bare stomach.
Kieran laughed heartily, his face turning bright red as he squirmed and squealed in pure delight.
"You got an outtie!" Sam informed him, and pinched his belly button. "Like your daddy. Everything is like your daddy! Drives mommy nuts! You got your daddy's hair and your daddy's eyes and your daddy's ears and your daddy's lips and your daddy's chin and your daddy's love handles!"
Kieran shrieked and giggled as she tickled his sides.
"And your daddy's belly button and your daddy's knobby knees and his big feet and his funny looking toes and his potato patches!"
The baby screamed even louder with happiness as his mother lightly grabbed the inside of one thigh and tickled it aggressively.
"Potato patches?" Flack asked. "What the hell are potato patches?"
"The inside of your thighs. The extra little chubbiness there. You've got it and so does Kieran."
"Are you insinuating that I'm fat?" Flack asked.
"I am insinuating you have put on some weight and have potato patches. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I love you regardless. You're still the sexiest guy in the world to me. Potato patches and love handles and grey hair and all."
"Some grey hair, Sam. Some. And they all have your name on it."
"You had grey in your hair when we met I'm afraid to tell you. I wouldn't worry so much about it. It didn't stop me from falling madly and deeply and passionately in love with you, did it?"
"Aren't I just the luckiest sonofabitch on earth that you even gave me the time of day," Flack said sarcastically and took a swig of her apple juice.
"Yes…yes you are, actually," Sam told him, sticking her tongue out at him before tipping Kieran right side up and settling him beside her. "Can you find him a snack, Donnie? He's hungry."
"He's always hungry," Flack sighed and stood up. "What am I suppose to give him?"
"There's some of those Goldfish crackers in the cupboard above the sink," Sam told him, leaning forward to grab the sippy cup and handing it to her son. "What are you doing with our son, anyway?" she asked, watching over her shoulder as her husband rummaged through cupboards.
"He's our son. Am I not suppose to have him?"
"He's supposed to be in day care until five and your mother picks him up."
"Well, Kieran is going to be expelled from day care if he doesn't smarten up. They called me to come and calm him down because they decided, because they are so much smarter and better at child rearing than we are, that they would take his diaper off and attempt to sit him on the potty."
"Potty or big boy toilet?" Sam asked.
"The big boy toilet. And we both know Kieran's insane paranoia about the big boy toilet. Well, I guess those stupid mother…"
"Donnie…" Sam warned.
"Stupid bitches downstairs decided we didn't know what we were talking about and thought they'd break him of said paranoia."
"And?"
"And Kieran lost it, bit the stupid bitch who than dropped our son ass first into the freezing water. A major meltdown ensues on his part and before you know it, I'm the one drying him off, putting him in a fresh diaper and getting his clothes back and on and trying to calm him down."
"And they called you because…"
"Because it seems as if you either had your phone off or were on it yapping to someone and they got the voice mail."
"Ooops," Sam said.
"So here we are," Flack told her. "I said I'd bring him back down in half an hour. I am telling you, Sammie, those people are morons. Is there not any other day care he can go to?"
"Waiting lists are huge, Donnie. I've told you that a hundred times."
"Well than put his name on them and wait."
Sam flipped him the middle finger behind his back.
"Whose Twinkies are these?" he asked curiously.
"I don't know. Is there a name on the box?"
"Jeff."
"That's the lab tech who told me I had a nice rack last week. They're his."
"Well they're mine now," Flack declared and grabbed them and the box of Goldfish and returned to the seating area.
"I thought you hated Twinkies," Sam commented, opening the box of crackers and taking out a handful. She held her palm open in front of Kieran so he could choose the ones he wanted.
"I like anything that's free and comes from some moron who tells my wife she has nice boobs," he told her and winked at her playfully as he sat down. "So I got them prenatal vitamins and some folic acid but it was the store brand crap. It's all they had and I wasn't sure if they were okay."
Sam leaned forward and scooped up the bag and reached into it and pulled out the two bottles. "They're fine," she told him. "It's all the same anyway."
"Can't be or there wouldn't be different kinds."
"Don't be so difficult," she huffed and sat the bottles down on the coffee table.
"I am just saying…."
"I know what you're saying. And you've become a damn nag."
"You're rubbing off on me," he chuckled and unwrapping on of the Twinkies, took a bite. "So I hear a rumour that you were on a date."
Sam sighed and closed her eyes and shook her head. "Danny…."
"Something about how you and Chester Lake looked really cozy and I quote, more than old friends."
"Jesus…what is wrong with you men? You have to gossip like old hens?"
"Hey, I am just telling you what I heard. No guy wants to hear his wife was having a lunch date with her old boyfriend."
"He is not my old boyfriend. Friend, Donnie. He was my friend. Nothing more, nothing less. Friend."
"Don't get so defensive. If you didn't have something to hide you wouldn't be so defensive," he teased.
She opened her eyes and scowled and tossed one of the Goldfish at him. "Reed Garrett's article comes out tomorrow," she told him. "On the front page of the Times."
"Yeah? Good for him."
"His editor says it was a fabulous human interest piece I will have you know."
"I gotta admit. You're a pretty fabulous piece of a human being," he chided and took another sip from her juice.
"I am being serious here," she scolded.
"So am I," he said, and belched noisily.
"You are so goddamn gross!" Sam cried. "Why do I love you is what I should be asking myself."
"You love me because you love me. Because I'm smart and funny and charming and I make you laugh and I make you want to pull your hair out and I make you want to scream. And that last part I mean in a good way. On top of all that, the blue eyes. The dark hair and the blue eyes. Look at the child I gave you, woman! What more do you want?"
"Oh I don't know. One of them Audi's the cost eighty thousand, a summer home in the Hamptons, a credit card that has no limit that I don't have to pay back, a massive pool with a little water fall and a sparsely tattooed, hot Latin boy to take care of said pool at my home in the Hamptons."
"Whatever," he snorted. "Face it, your happy with our lives. You're happy driving a Pontiac G6 and living in lower Manhattan in the controlled chaos that is our apartment. You're happy with the guy you have even if he is a thirty year old slightly greying guy from Queens with knobby knees and an outtie belly button and potato patches."
"You're just the sunshine in my life, baby," she said with a warm, genuine smile.
He grinned and leaned across the space between the two couches to press a soft kiss to her lips. "You got some white stuff right here," he said, settling back in his seat and pointing to the left corner of her lips.
"Like that's never happened before," she laughed, and cleared the filling from the Twinkies off of her mouth with a fingertip. "You never told me if that mother I talked to earlier today brought her daughter in."
Flack shook his head. "We gave them an extension until five o'clock and than we're going to break their goddamn door down and drag her out."
"And your interrogation earlier?"
He snorted. "Guy passed out halfway through. All tweaked out on something. He's mellowing out now in a holding cell."
"You've just had quite the exciting day so far. All that and than your son falls in the toilet at day care. Just a mixed back of wackiness."
"Well, I look at it this way," Flack said with a sigh and leaned back in the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table and closed his eyes. "I am already used to it because living with you is just a whole load of crazy."
"I keep you on your toes, Donnie. I keep you young and vibrant and oh so lovable and cute."
"Daddee!" Kieran chirped noisily.
Flack cracked open one eye to look at his son.
"'Ish, daddee!" he announced, holding up the cheese flavoured fish shaped cracker for his father to see. "'Ish!"
"I see the fish, buddy," Flack responded and yawned noisily and closed his eyes once again.
"Daddy's tired," Sam told their son. "He was up really, really early this morning."
"Because some crazy little half pint was up baking damn cupcakes at four in the morning."
"Kieran!" Sam gasped dramatically. "Did you learn how to make cupcakes and use the oven and your only one!? One year old tomorrow! You're getting to be a big boy now. Pretty soon mommy and daddy can get you a big boy bed and we can pass your crib along to your new brother or sister."
"Sister," Flack said. "Let's make it a sister." He gave another long, loud yawn.
"Are you that tired, honey?" Sam asked. "Would you like a warm glass of milk to help you relax? Would you like to stretch out on the couch? Just you and your blankie?"
"Come here for a second, Sam. And bring the blankie so I can tie it around your neck and strangle you with it. And do you ever work? Seriously. Why are you always on a break?"
"Because I was hungry and I am a woman of leisure. And because I am waiting for some test results. And you know how long that can take. I wish we had the magic machines like on the crime shows on television and we got results in thirty seconds."
"That would be nice," Flack agreed.
He groaned loudly when his cell phone rang noisily. "Why?" he asked. "Why me? Why is this my life?"
"Because you love your job!" Sam exclaimed. "And if you weren't a cop, we never would have met."
"Now there's the plus side to it all," he said sarcastically as he pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and flipped it open. "Flack," he answered simply. "When?…Where?…alright, I'm on my way."
"Let me guess," Sam said, as he snapped his phone closed and stood up. "You have to go."
"I have to go," he confirmed with a heavy sigh. "Want me to take him back down?" he asked, nodding down at Kieran so comfortably snuggled into his mother's side.
"I'll take him in a little while. He's fine. I'm supposed to be off at six, but you just never know. If you're going to be later than that, will you at least call me or come up here and tell me?"
"Oh I'll be later than that. Much later. I can guarantee it. But I will still let you know," he bent down and kissed her softly.
"Daddy's got to go to, K," Sam told her son. "He has to go and catch some bad guys. Give him a hug and a kiss."
Kieran sat the sippy cup between his legs and turned his face up to kiss his father sloppily and noisily and curl his tiny arms around his dad's neck.
"Be good," Flack said. "And that goes for both of you."
"Be safe!" Sam called to him as he headed for the door.
"Always," he assured her, than turned to face her. "And take some of those pre-natal things. I didn't buy them for no reason and I…"
"Whose taking prenatal vitamins?" Carmen asked, as she squeezed in between Flack and the door frame to gain access to the lounge.
Flack's eyes widened. "Uh…hey…Carmen…" he looked over at his wife who was staring daggers at him.
"Busted," Sam mouthed at him.
"You mean you guys?" Carmen asked, as her eyes flicked back and forth between her friends. "You guys are having a baby?"
"What?" Flack responded. "What are you talking about? No one's having a baby."
"I heard you tell Sam to take prenatal vitamins. That you didn't buy them for no reason."
"I never said that," Flack argued. "You're hearing things. I gotta go."
"Nice try, Don," Carmen said and grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back. "You guys are pregnant?"
"Actually, she's the pregnant one," he confirmed, nodding in Sam's direction.
"Seriously? When did you guys find out?"
"We've known since Christmas Eve," Sam admitted. "But we were waiting until the ultrasound to tell everyone. You know, in case things didn't work out like last time."
"This is awesome news!" Carmen shrieked, standing on her tip toes to hug Flack in congratulations before rushing over to the couch and throwing her arms around her best friend. "You guys must be so excited! And you two certainly don't waste any time. Congrats! How far along are you?"
"I gotta get to work," Flack told the two women. "You two do your squealing and carrying on while I make a living."
"Congratulations, Don!" Carmen called him to before he slipped out the door. "So?" she asked her friend, beaming as she plopped down on the couch across from Sam. "Are you excited? You must be really excited. I know you guys were starting to try after my wedding but I never expected you to be telling me this soon."
"I'm sorry you found out this way, Carmen. It's nothing personal. We just weren't going to tell anyone until the ultrasound or until I got past the first trimester."
"It doesn't matter how I find out. You guys had your reasons to keep it back and I totally get that. What matters now is you and Don and the new baby you guys are having together. This is amazing, Sam! A new life! A little brother or sister for K! You and Don must be thrilled."
"We are…and a little scared and nervous too."
Carmen nodded in understanding. "I know…considering what happened not long ago…but it will work out this time. I promise. This time everything's going to go perfectly and you guys will have a precious, adorable baby in seven or so months. And I mean, look at Kieran. You two obviously make some good looking kids."
Sam nodded.
"But….there's a but in your mind, Sammie. I know you all too well. There's some negative, not so nice thoughts going around in that pretty little head of yours."
"They're not negative," Sam said with a sigh, curling her arm around her son and drawing him tighter against her side. "They're just…I don't know…cautious."
"What are you guys being so cautious about?"
"We're just nervous, Carmen. Because the first time that I got pregnant after Kieran, things didn't go so well and I think Don carries around this guilt that I had that miscarriage because he came right out and admitted he didn't want that baby. Because he wasn't ready for another one. And I've told him that he doesn't need to feel that way. That things didn't happen because he said something or thought something."
"And? What did he say?"
"Nothing. Which is so typical of him. You know what he's like. He doesn't talk about stuff like that. About how he's feeling. He tries to…but he just shuts himself off and changes the subject. And I think we've both a little bit of fear that because we want it so bad this time, that something terrible will happen."
"Which you both know is a completely stupid and immature way of thinking, right?"
"Right. But we just don't want things going bad. Because if there's a chance of things going down the shitter, trust me, it happens to us."
"Which is why you need to relax and take it easy," Carmen told her. "Not just for that baby but for Kieran and you and Don. Because getting yourself worked up, Sammie, that's going to cause problems."
"I know," she sighed. "And than there's the financial side to the whole thing. We're going to need a bigger place because we're already tripping over each other in our apartment now. And Don's talking about maybe trying to get a mortgage and than using some of the savings to get a house in another borough and than there's the issue of when and how to tell Mac and what his reaction is going to be considering I haven't been back to work that long. On top of that Stella will be going on mat leave in less than three months…"
"Jesus, Sam. How do you have all of this stuff in your brain all at once?"
"There's all that and more, trust me. It's just trying to sort it all out and figure out which is the most important."
"You are. You're the most important. You and your family. Nothing else matters. Just you guys. And if I was to tell Don you're thinking about all of this…"
"Oh he knows. Trust me. He knows I'm nuts. He woke up at four this morning and I was baking cupcakes for day care."
"So that's whose turn it was. When I went down to check on Addie all these kids were running around with icing smeared all over them and squished cupcake all over their hands. I nearly threw up. How I am ever going to deal when she has a sticky hands and face…" Carmen shuddered at the thought.
"At least you have a girl," Sam laughed. "Kieran will be the little boy that pokes at dead birds and squirrels with sticks and brings worms home to mommy as presents. Who eats mud and glue and anything else he can get his hands on."
"You're not that bad, are you , K?" Carmen asked her godson, reaching out to pinch his stomach. "You're not as bad as mommy says you are, are you?"
"Yeah," he responded.
Both Carmen and Sam laughed, which in turn caused the little boy to beam from ear to ear, the dimple in his left cheek prominent.
"At least he's honest," Carmen said. "He doesn't deny it. He knows he's a terrorist. And what's he doing up here anyway?"
"Incident at day care," Sam sighed. "They tried to put him on the big boy toilet and I guess he got angry and bit one of them and they dropped him in it. Nice, huh? Talk about traumatic. I won't get him toilet trained until he's ten now. Whatever. I am leaving toileting duties to his father. They have the same equipment so Don can deal with it. As long as it gets down before he starts school, that is all I'm worried about. In the meantime," she yawned noisily and leaned forward to pick up the bottle of vitamins from the table.
"I'm really happy for you guys, Sammie. And everything will work out this time around."
"I hope so," she said, and swallowed a pre-natal vitamin and than a folic acid tablet with some apple juice. "I guess it might be a good sign that the nausea isn't as bad as it was last time. I still feel sick and throw up but it's nothing like when I was having Kieran."
"Than maybe the entire thing will be less of an ordeal."
"Maybe," Sam said and held up her hand to show her fingers crossed. "I need to get this place tidied up and take Mister Man here back to day care. Grandma will be picking him up soon. Can you watch him for a second?"
"You have to ask that?" Carmen inquired, and moved over to the spot Sam was now vacating.
"Mommy?" Kieran asked, a despondent look on his face as he watched her start cleaning things up.
"She'll be back," Carmen assured him. "She's just cleaning things up a bit. So whose this new guy that's working for Don, Sam?" she asked curiously. "The one that's your ex boyfriend."
Sam groaned. "Danny is such a moron. Chester Lake is not my ex. He's an old friend of mine. What is so hard about that to understand?"
"Apparently Danny said there was something there that was way more than just old friends meeting up."
"Well Danny's delusional," Sam said, as she rinsed out her cereal bowl and left it and the spoon in the sink with the other dirty dishes that had been left behind. "We had lunch. Caught up on old times. That's it. No huge deal."
"Don't get so defensive," Carmen told her best friend, as she came back to the seating area and shoved the bottles of vitamins back in the bag.
"I am not getting defensive. I just don't like people accusing me of something I didn't do, and would never do."
"No one is accusing you of anything, Sammie. We're just surprised that the you and the new guy have history. That's it."
"It's not history, okay? We were friends. That's it. Nothing scandalous about it. I'm not allowed to have friends that are guys? You're starting to sound like Don."
"You're overreacting, Sam."
"Maybe I am," she said, and gathered up the old blanket and tossed it over her shoulder before scooping Kieran up into her arms. "But I don't appreciate you people talking about me behind my back and surmising things that never happened. I don't have anything to hide and you people need to just step off and leave me alone about it."
"You need to take a pill, Sam," Carmen called to her friend as she stomped across the room and out the door.
And you wouldn't be so bent out of shape if you didn't have something to hide, Carmen thought.
Nine o'clock at night.
Number twenty-five on the list of Monroe's in Bozeman, Montana.
Sam had arrived home from work at quarter to five and promptly took a shower and tossed something into the oven for supper. Now she sat on the couch, in a pair of her most comfortable flannel pyjamas, the television tuned into a re-run of Boston Legal and her cell phone in hand and list of names sitting beside her on the couch.
Everyone else in the house was asleep. After a long, trying day at day care and than an outing with grandma to FAO Schwartz that had seen grandma purchases way too many toys for her grandson's birthday, Kieran had had his supper and a bath and was out like a light before the clock hit seven thirty. Flack hadn't been far behind. He'd trudged through the door at eight in foul mood, grabbed a quick bite to eat and a shower and retreated to bed where he promptly passed out on top of all the covers. Face down and his arms and legs spreadeagled, snoring loudly.
How's that for romance? Sam had thought, before grabbing an extra blanket from the closet and tossing it over him and turning off the lights and shutting the blinds before leaving him there, the cat curled up and purring contently next to his head.
The clean dishes still sat in the drain board and a fresh load of laundry still sat in the basket next to the couch. As far as Sam was concerned, all of that could wait. She had a job to do. She was a woman on a mission.
She had dialled the twenty-fifth number and waited for six rings. She was just contemplating hanging up when she heard the click of someone picking up followed by a soft voice. One she hadn't heard in nearly two years, but recognized immediately.
"Hello?"
"Lindsay?" she asked.
Silence.
"This is Lindsay, right? Lindsay Monroe who worked in New York City as a Crime Scene Investigator?"
"It is," she confirmed.
"It's Samantha…Samantha F-"
"I know who it is," Lindsay said coolly. "Only it's not Samantha Ross anymore. It's Samantha Flack. Danny told me. About you guys getting married and having a baby. I guess I should say congratulations."
"You don't have to," Sam told her.
"Good. Because I really didn't want to."
"I guess I deserved that," Sam sighed. "I mean, I didn't exactly make things too easy on you when I first got here. But at the same time, you weren't exactly head of the welcoming committee when I first arrived, either."
"I guess not," Lindsay said. "I guess we both have regrets and crosses to bear with the way things went down in New York. Why are you calling me now? We haven't talked in almost two years. You just suddenly decided to give me a shout or…"
"This isn't about me, or you," Sam cut her off gently. "And look, I'm sorry I was shitty to you and you felt a reason to be that way with me, but we're adults and I think we can both put that behind us and start things off on a better foot. Don't you?"
"That might be a good idea," Lindsay agreed. "So what is this about if it's not a social call?"
"It's about Danny."
Panic registered in Lindsay's voice. "Danny? What about him? What happened to him? Oh my God, is he okay?"
"Nothing's happened. He's fine. This is about Danny. And you. And the fact that the two of you belong together and…"
"Sam, I don't know what Danny's been telling you but…"
"I know about the phone calls. And the emails. I know that the two of you have been carrying on like that for more than a year now. Just before Don and I got married. And I know that he's miserable without you Lindsay and he kicks his own ass every day for pushing you away and that he'd give anything to take back how he treated you after Ruben Sandoval. And I know that if you just gave him a chance and.."
"I gave him lots of chances, Samantha. And he never took them."
"I know, I know. But please listen to me, Lindsay. He's sorry. He feels bad. If he didn't he wouldn't have been corresponding with you for all this time. And if you didn't care about him you wouldn't have been carrying on with him either. So you can't tell me that there's nothing there. I know he loves you. And I know you love him."
"Love has nothing to do with this," Lindsay informed her.
"Love has everything to do with this," Sam corrected her. "This doesn't make any sense. If you love each other, than there shouldn't be anything standing in your way."
"There is. He's living with someone. She's having his baby. She's your cousin."
"And believe me, Lindsay, I hate myself for ever encouraging those two. But that's water under the bridge and what's happened has happened. The only thing we can change is what happens from here on out. And I know you're seeing someone…"
"Engaged, actually. We're engaged."
"I want to congratulate you. I really do. But you know that this isn't the right thing to do, Lindsay. Not when you're still in love with Danny."
"This isn't any of your business, Samantha," Lindsay informed her. "I know Danny's your friend and you love him and he adores you and Flack and your son, but.."
"It's not my business. You're right. But I feel the need to do something now to make up for the shitty things I did back than. Sounds stupid, I know. And I can't stand seeing him so miserable. Danny would do the same thing for me and I know he would."
"I've already told Danny that it's over. That I can't talk to him anymore. I need to make a break from this. From us. It's not healthy and he has a life and now so do I and us being involved with each other…it's not good, Samantha. For anyone involved."
"Danny's coming to Montana," Sam revealed.
Silence.
"Lindsay?"
"I'm here. What do you mean he's coming to Montana?"
"It's a long story. But I'm sending him there to get this all sorted out and I wanted to call you and give you the heads up."
"When? When's he coming?"
"February second. The flight leaves here at three in the afternoon from JFK and arrives there at Gallatin Field at quarter to eight your time."
Lindsay sighed heavily. "I asked him not to do something like that. I asked him to just let me go. That it would be easier for both of us if he just let go."
"Letting go isn't that easy," Sam surmised. "Trust me. There's things, and people, I haven't let go of that I should have a long time ago."
"But he promised me that he wouldn't do this to me," Lindsay said, the pain and tears evident in her voice.
"What about what you're doing to yourself and to him by asking him to do that?"
Lindsay sniffled noisily.
"Just meet with him, Linds. Please. I know this is asking for a lot coming from me considering our past, but please just give him a chance. To say the things he needs to say to you. In person. Can you do that?"
A pause. "I think so."
Sam felt relief surge through her body. "And there's something else."
"Oh God," Lindsay groaned.
"He doesn't know about this. So I don't want you to call him or email him and mention it, okay?"
"This is all too weird to wrap my head around. He's coming to Montana but doesn't know about it?"
"Like I said, it's a long story," Sam told her. "A very long story. Let's just say this is somewhat of a covert op on my part. I just need you to trust me and meet with him. Okay?"
"You're insane," Lindsay declared with a laugh. "But okay. I will trust you. And meet with him."
"You have no idea how much you just made my night," Sam breathed a huge sigh of relief.
"In a way, you made my night, too," the other woman admitted. "Hearing you spell things out the way you did. About Danny and me. It might do us both some good to see each other."
"I hope so," Sam said. "I really do."
"And I know that things were awful between us. It was a lot of jealousy and immaturity and back stabbing and pettiness. But I want you to know that there's been times, a lot of times, that I've wondered what things would have been like had I stuck around and gave you a chance."
Sam smiled. "I've thought about that to. I know I can be a huge bitch, Linds. And I didn't give you a fair shake when I arrived and that isn't usually who I am. So I'm sorry for that. For pushing you away and out of Danny's life."
"I pushed myself out of his life. You had nothing to do with it," Lindsay assured her. "Sounds like we both have some regrets."
"More than you'll ever know," Sam said quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. It's nothing. Just a whole lot of stuff running through my head at the moment. Work stuff and marriage stuff and kid stuff and a whole shit load of nonsense."
"Marriage stuff? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah…yeah, everything is great. We're just working a lot of hours and Kieran's turning one tomorrow and we're having another baby and…"
"Another one? Wow. Congratulations."
"Thanks," Sam said. Than laughed. "You know what's funny? Other than Carmen and my brother and in laws, no one else knows. I told you before I told my own parents and the rest of my friends. How weird is that?"
"It's not weird," Lindsay told her. "Maybe it's a sign. A start of something. Between me and you."
Sam smiled. "Maybe. And I'd like that."
"So would I," Lindsay said softly. "So how about you give me all your numbers and emails me and what not and your address and we take things from there?"
"Sounds good," Sam agreed. "Got a pen?"
It was nearly eleven when she finally got off of the phone and crowding eleven thirty by the time she put the dishes away and tidied the kitchen and folded the laundry and put it back in the basket. She set the card and two small gifts they planned on giving Kieran in the morning on the kitchen table. Everything else would come the day of the party, but they didn't want the actual day going by unannounced.
She turned off all of the lights and the television and made sure the door was locked before carrying the basket of clean clothes down the hall and into the master bedroom. Balancing the plastic basket on her hip and under one arm as she used her other hand to turn the doorknob and push her way inside. Flack had stopped snoring and now lay on his back, an arm over his eyes. Slippers stretched out with her nose just brushing his temple.
Sam closed the door behind her and went and sat the basket in the closet. Her foot colliding with and nearly sending her flying over, a large hockey equipment bag.
"Donnie….for fuck sakes!" she grumbled, giving the bag a shift kick, than nearly hollowing out loud in agony as her toes connected with something solid.
"I told you it was in there," a voice said from out in the bedroom.
"I forgot!" she cried, hopping out of the closet on one foot. "I think my toes a broken!"
"You're fine," he said, an arm still over his eyes.
"Be a little sympathetic here, please. I can't put my foot on the ground or wiggle my toes. Why are you being so mean?"
"Because I'm tired."
"And that gives you just cause?" she asked, plopping down onto the bed. "I'm not asking for much here. Would you just turn the light on and look at my foot?"
"I'm not a doctor. And you can't do anything for a broken toe. Or two, or three."
"Would it kill you to show a little compassion?" she asked, and grabbed her pillow and smacked him over the head with it.
"Fine," he huffed and sat up and reached for the bedside lamp and flicked it on. "You want me to play doctor? Let me see."
"It hurts!" she cried, shifting in the bed so she was sitting in front of him with her foot in his lap.
"Where does it hurt?" he asked, gently touching the tips of each toe.
"Everywhere. It hurts everywhere. Are they broken?"
"I don't think so. Maybe sprained or really badly bruised, but I doubt they're broken. Can you move them at all?"
She winced and drew in a hissing breath as she wriggled her toes slightly. "A little."
"You'll live," he assured her, and pressed a kiss to the top of her foot. "Better?"
"Do that again," she demanded.
He smiled and repeated his action.
"Couple more times?"
"Sam…"
"Please? It's nice. It tickles."
He sighed and kissed the top of her foot. Than the side of it. Than the ankle. "You good?" he asked.
"I'm good. Now I can officially tell people you do indeed, kiss my feet."
He smirked and set her foot down gently on the bed before reached over to turn the light out and settling down on his back once more.
Sam crawled up the bed and turned herself around and lifted the blanket so she could climb under it and snuggle up to him. Her hand resting on his stomach and her head on his chest. Listening to his heart beat while he laid his hand on her back and stroked softly.
"You never told me how the rest of your shift went," she said.
"It went. Slow and steady wins the race, right? Not to mention your little boyfriend made a hell of a collar today."
"He is not my boyfriend," Sam informed him. Than sighed heavily. "But he was."
"Yeah, I already had that figured out a long time ago. I was just waiting for you to be ready to actually tell me yourself."
"You just figured it out? When?"
"When I saw you looking at his jacket on Christmas Eve. When you said his name and told me you knew him, I guess I just say something in your eyes and in your face. Like a reminiscing, fond memories type deal."
"You saw all of that?"
Flack nodded.
"Boy, the NYPD knew what they were doing when they made you detective. I totally underestimate you."
"And than talking to him today, when he saw your picture on my desk and was talking about you? That just sealed it. I knew right away there was more to him and you than what you were letting on. And than to hear from Danny that you were having lunch with the guy and laughing and sparkling and glowing…"
"Who was sparkling and glowing?" she asked.
"You were apparently. Those are Danny's exact words."
"If I was sparkling and glowing, than it's because I'm pregnant. That pregnant glow people talk about all the time. Not because I was flirting with Chester. Don't read into that. I can't believe Danny told you that."
"He's just watching out for me," Flack reasoned, his hand drifting up her back to stroke her hair. "He's my best friend. He's watching my back."
"Watching your back?" Sam sat up and stared down at him. "From who? From your own wife?"
"Does he have a reason to? Do I need him to be watching my back?"
"Of course not. Why would you even think something like that? Do you actually think I'd ever do something like that to you?"
He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Honestly, I don't know Sammie."
She sat and watched him for what seemed like an eternity. Absentmindedly twisting the blanket grasped in her hands. A least a dozen smart ass, hurtful and cutting comments to toss his way. About how she'd never do something like that just because he would. How he was the one who had started the ball rolling by screwing around behind her back with Devon. But she couldn't bring herself to say them.
"Donnie," she said quietly, laying her hand on his chest. "Please look at me."
He turned his head to the side, his blue eyes troubled and weary. And hurt.
"I would never, ever do that you. I know we have our issues and maybe I'm not the best wife on earth or the nicest person in the world, but I love you. More than I could ever tell you. You and Kieran are my everything and I would never do anything to hurt you."
"It's never just me anymore, Sam. It's me and Kieran. You never just say me. You always put him in there too."
"He's our son, Donnie. You're his father. We made him together. He's part of you."
"But what if he wasn't? Just say we never had him. Just say we got married and never had a baby right away. Let's just pretend that he isn't here and it's just me and you. Would you not do something like that because you wouldn't want to lose me, or is it that you wouldn't do it because you don't want to lose him?"
"I don't want to lose either of you," she said.
"That's not what I asked. I asked…"
"If we didn't have Kieran we'd still be together and I'd still feel the same way. I don't want to lose you. Whether it's just me and you or whether we have a family together. This isn't about Kieran. This is about me and you and the way I feel about you and you not trusting me."
"I do trust you."
She shook her head. "If you did you wouldn't be asking me these things. I don't know what else there is for me to say to you. I married you because I love you. Not because I was pregnant by you. And I love you more now and each and every day and I wouldn't cheat on you. With anyone. And I don't know what I ever did to make you not believe me…"
"I do believe you. Just having to figure this out on my own and Danny coming back to me to tell me what he saw…I know I'm not the greatest husband in the world. But I try, Sammie. I really do. And I don't like finding things out about your past like that. Why can't you just tell me things, babe? Why do you keep things like that from me?"
Sam shrugged.
"What? Did you think I was going to be mad about it? Freak out on you and rant and rave about it?"
"I guess…"
"I freak out when you keep things from me. If you'd just be honest and up front right away, than I wouldn't get pissed. You realize that don't you?"
She nodded.
"Are you going to say anything?" he asked. "Like can I get a reaction of some kind here? Something? Anything?"
She considered her next move. Her next word. And she did what came first to her. She leaned over him and kissed him softly, her long hair tumbled over him. Than she climbed astride him, her knees on either side of him, and she curled her arms around his neck and laid her head on his chest.
"I love you," she said simply.
And as he wrapped his arms around her slender body, Flack realized that no other action, physical or verbal, on her part had ever been so perfect.
Or so welcome.
A/N: Coming up soon, the start of something me and my galz like to refer to as Lessing Madness.
Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even all the lurkers. But please show me some love folks, the last couple of days I've had, I could really use it. Much love to all of you!
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