DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK, KIERAN FLACK AND THE FLACK TRIPLETS.
THANKS TO THOSE READING AND REVIEWING AND ADDING ME TO ALERTS AND FAVS!
What might have been, what could be
"Don't think I don't think about it
Don't think I don't have regrets
Don't think it don't get to me
Between the work and the hurt and the whiskey
Don't think I don't wonder 'bout
Could've been, should'a been all worked out
I know what I felt and I know what I said but
Don't think I don't think about it
When we make choices we gotta live with them
Heard you found a real good man and you married him
I wonder if sometimes I cross your mind
Where would we be today if I never drove that car away."
-Don't Think I Don't Think About It, Darius Rucker
The family owned Italian bistro was located two blocks from the New York City Crime Lab. It was an unassuming place with hardwood floors that were scuffed and worn and tables covered white carnation and a sprig of greenery. Murals of the Italian countryside were painted on the cream coloured stucco walls and chalkboards advertising the daily specials and the dessert menus dangled from thick chains attached to the ceiling. Soft elevator music was piped through the restaurant's overhead sound system and floated through the air along with the quiet chatter of patrons and the workers in the back kitchen.
It was a quarter to one on bright and unseasonably warm late April afternoon when Chester Lake stepped through the front door of the bistro. A small bell chiming above his head, announcing his arrival. A waitress - a young, tall and slender pretty girl with shoulder length black hair and olive skin and beautiful brown eyes- rushed over, a menu in hand and her waitress apron around her waist as his eyes scanned the restaurant for his lunch companion.
"Good afternoon," the waitress greeted him a soft Italian accent. "Just yourself today, sir?"
"Actually, I am looking for…"
He spotted her at the rear of the small bistro. Her back was towards him as she sat at a quaint table to two. Her waist length dark hair pulled back and held together with a large tortoiseshell clip. Several loose tendrils tumbling down along the sides of her face and wisps dangling at the back of her neck. Simple white gold hoops taking up the three holes in each ear and the two in the cartilage at the top of the right. Dressed conservatively in a pair of wide legged black dress pants and black ballet flats and a silk emerald green capped sleeve blouse that tied at the small of her back. A black leather Guess satchel style purse resting at her feet.
"I'm meeting her," Lake told the waitress, nodding in the direction of the rear of the establishment.
"Would you like me to show you to the table? Or would…"
"I'm fine, thank you," he said, and plucked the menu from her hands as he headed through the restaurant.
The hardwood floor creaked under his feet as he journeyed towards the pretty brunette checking text messages on her cell phone while sipping an iced tea. Her elbow on the table and the side of her head resting in her upturned hand.
"Samantha," he greeted, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.
She looked up at him with those amazing golden eyes and gave a small smile. "Hey," she said simply. "Thanks for coming."
"No problem," he told her, setting his menu down on the table before pulling out the chair across from her and sitting down. "Sorry I'm a little late. Our interrogation ran longer then we expected it to."
"And did you manage to get your man?" she asked, clearing the text messages before turning her phone on silent and sitting it on the table top.
"Your man managed to get his man," Lake replied. "Flack never ceases to amaze me how he takes utter and complete control like he does. Doesn't let the perps get the upper hand. He's always one step in front of them. And intimidating? Some times he has me shaking."
She gave a broad, proud smile. "Don's incredible at his job," she declared. "He doesn't let anyone pull anything over him. He's calm and composed when he needs to be and aggressive and assertive when the need calls for. He puts his foot down when he has to and the perps don't know what hit them. It's what makes him an amazing cop. All these different layers to him."
"Spoken like a woman in love," Lake said.
She shrugged and sipped her iced tea. "I respect him not just as my husband and the father of my son, but as a colleague, too. He's great at his job. I trust him with my life."
"As your husband or as your colleague?" Lake asked curiously.
"Both. I know that whether it be personal or professional wise, I can count on Don having my back no matter what. He's always there for me. Regardless of how small or big something is."
"He should be," Lake said, smiling at the same waitress that he met him at the door as she stopped at their table to fill his glass with ice water from the pitcher in her hand. "He's your husband. I'd be worried if he didn't support you through thick and thin."
"Well not all men see marriage in the same light as you, Chester. I'm just lucky I found someone that lets me be me. He's never tried to strip away my sense of self worth and turn me into a possession. To him I'm more then just his wife and the mother of his son. I'm Samantha and he lets me be a strong, independent woman. Even if sometimes it's hard for him to be that way."
"He just worries about you," Lake said, his eyes on his menu. "He just wants to keep you safe. You and those babies. How are you feeling?"
"I'm feeling okay," she sighed, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her stomach. "I'm more than halfway through now. Good thing, too. I'm getting majorly uncomfortable. Everything's happening at once. I'm spending that last month before my planned c-section in the hospital and we're moving into our house at the exact same time. So Donnie's got that to deal with and me in the hospital and Danny and Lindsay concentrating on their baby who will be here before we know it. It's just sheer and utter craziness. Thank God for my in laws or we'd be up shit creek without a paddle child care wise."
"It's good you have such a huge support system," he told her, snapping his menu closed. "It's quite the change from when you were growing up. I'm glad that things worked out for you in the end. That you got your happily ever after."
She smiled, closing her menu as well. "We're working on the happily ever after," she said. "It isn't always easy, the whole marriage thing, but we love each other and we're determined to make things work. Especially for our kids."
"Hope that's not the only reason you're trying so hard," Lake told her, sipping his ice water.
"What's that suppose to mean?"
"It means that I hope you're not just staying married and forcing yourself into thinking it's what you want and working your ass off to keep something together when you're only doing it for Kieran and the babies you're having. It's always a disaster when people stay together just for the kids."
Sam frowned. "That isn't what I said. I said that we're determined to make things work…"
"Especially for your kids," Lake tossed in.
"I didn't mean we were making things work just because of our kids. Apparently you either didn't hear or understand what I said before that. When I distinctly said that we love each other."
Lake held his hands up in self defence. "Don't get so defensive, Samantha. I'm sorry if I misunderstood what you said."
"Well you did misunderstand it," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why do you have to be like that?"
"Be like what?" he asked.
"Get all negative and bitchy when I talk about me and Don."
"I don't get…"
"You do," she insisted. "It's like you just can't handle the fact that I'm not the same person I was when I was fourteen. That I'm a wife and mother. It's like it just burns your ass that I'm with someone else other than you. Which makes no sense considering we were teenagers when we were together and it was almost two decades ago."
"We share something, Samantha," Lake told her, leaning across the table and speaking in a quiet voice. "It wasn't just this simple teenage relationship and you know it. We were each others firsts. For everything. We had a child together."
"A lot of people have children together and don't end up with one another," Sam reminded him.
"But don't you ever wonder what…"
Lake paused as their waitress returned to take their orders. He asked for a plate of lasagna and a side Caesar salad while Sam stuck to a simple order of warmed foccacia bread and a bowl of Italian Wedding soup. Her stomach had been queasy since earlier the previous evening and the triplets had seemed to be having a hell of a time finding comfortable spots to settle down in. the doctor had said if things ever seemed frantic, to head to the ER. Sometimes it was a sign that a baby was in trouble. So Flack and her had made a three am trip to the ER after waking Danny and Lindsay up to watch Kieran. Thankfully, an ultrasound had shoved that everyone was alive and well. Just more than a little cramped.
"What were you going to say?" Samantha asked once the waitress departed, rubbing her stomach in slow, smooth circles.
"Nothing," Lake waved it off. "It wasn't important."
"You said 'but don't you ever wonder what'. That sounded like something important to me."
He sighed heavily and clasped his hands together and rested them on the table top. "I was going to ask you if you ever wonder what might have been. What might have happened had you never left New York."
"We were kids, Chester. Baby or no baby, we were never going to have a future together. We were never going to have the white picket fence and the happily ever after. And if you think that that's what was going to happen, marriage and family, then you're completely delusional."
"We could have made things work, Samantha. We could have been that one success story for kids our age."
She snorted and shook her head.
"You don't know what might have happened had you stuck around."
"No. I don't. But I didn't stick around and a lot of years have gone by, Chester. I'm not the same person I was when I was fourteen or fifteen or sixteen. I'm thirty-four years old. I'm a wife and a mother. I've changed. Drastically. And so have you."
"And you never, ever sit back and wonder what if? What if we hadn't have given the baby up? What if you'd stayed in the city? What if we'd stayed together? You don't ever wonder, Samantha?"
She contemplated her answer, tapping a watermelon pink fingernail on the side of her water glass. "I never wonder what if," she told him. "But, in all truthfulness, when I first came back to New York City, I was hoping to find you. I was hoping to find you and reconnect with you and maybe, just maybe, see where things would take us after so long."
"And why didn't you?" Lake asked. "Why didn't you try and find me, Sammie? Because I would have love to seen you. And to have where life would have taken us now that we're grown up. Because I think we could have had something incredible. Why didn't you come and find me? What happened that prevented you from coming for me?"
"Life happened, Chester. More specifically, Don happened. I met him and I fell for him hard and fast. And I don't regret the way things went down between us. Because I love him and adore him and he's my entire world."
Lake snorted. "Give me a break, Sam. He takes you for granted. He doesn't even appreciate you. We all see it. We all hear how he talks to you. Why do you put up with that? You don't deserve that."
"Chester," she fought to control her temper. "You don't know anything about Don. He's your supervisor. That's it. You're not friends with him. You don't hang out and have a beer after shift. He simply comes home to me and his son and minds his own business and lives his life. You have no clue what happens behind closed doors. Don isn't perfect. And neither am I. You don't know the issues we have and how hard we work at getting past them. So do me a favour and keep your mouth off of my husband."
Lake blinked and stared at her long and hard. Her eyes not meeting his as she drummed her neatly manicured nails on the table top. The engagement ring and diamond eternity band had long ago been removed and placed in a lock box at home. And while her wedding ring was getting tighter and more uncomfortable with each passing day, she refused to take it off.
"He doesn't deserve you, Samantha," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry if it hurts you to hear that. But I think deep down you know that's true."
"Don't pull this psychological bullshit on me," she snapped. "You're trying to put feelings in my head that aren't there. I think you're jealous. Plain and simple. I think you haven't been able to let go of the past and you're over estimating this bond that we have. We had a child together. But we were kids and we made a decision that was right for the both of us. And you need to let me go, Chester. I do care about you. A lot. But not in the way you want me to. I love my husband. I love him and the way he loves me and the life we have together. And you need to accept that and back off."
"How can you just let him treat you like that?"
"Treat me like what?" she cried. "How is he treating me? He's not abusing me. Emotionally or physically. We fight. A lot. We scream and we say mean shit to each other and we slam doors and throw things around the house. But you know what? We don't hurt one another. Don and I love each other and we get through things together! And our lives together are none of your business!"
"You love him so much yet you ask me to lunch? The ex boyfriend you share a child with that he can't stand being around you? Does he even know you're hear? Or am I one of those secrets you love keeping from him?"
"You know what? He does know I'm here! In fact, this was his idea! He thought it would be great for me and you to sit down and talk about things! Don was the one who told me to call you! So how about them fucking apples?"
Lake opened his mouth to respond but all words were cut off as she winced and laid a hand on her stomach. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern in his dark eyes.
She bit her lip and nodded. Taking deep breaths and releasing them slowly. One hand gripping her water glass while the other rubbed her stomach. "I'm okay…" she said. "I just…I need to start taking it easy. I can't be getting all worked up like this. It's not good for the babies."
"Is everything okay?" the waitress asked as she appeared at the side of their table, orders balanced on her hands, her eyes wide at the sight of a pregnant woman in obvious distress.
"I'm fine," Sam assured her, managing to get the cramps, and her heart rate and breathing under control. "Just sometimes…they act up a little too much…"
"She's having triplets," Lake explained to the waitress.
"Three babies?" the young woman asked, placing the food down in front of her patrons.
Sam nodded.
"You must have some lucky swimmers," the waitress declared, winking at Lake before leaving them in peace to enjoy their meal.
Sam snorted at the waitress' comment and reaching for her iced tea, took a long sip. "I can't believe she actually thought we were together. As in together, together."
"I thought it was pretty funny," he said with a shrug and dug into his salad.
"You would," she mumbled, and setting her glass down on the table, picked up her spoon and set to the task of eating her soup.
Lake watched her as she stirred the soup over and over again with her spoon, her eyes riveted on the concoction in front of her. Her lips pursed together in a slight grimace. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," she replied.
"You're not going to eat?"
"I haven't been feeling very well the last couple of days," she admitted. "Nausea, dizziness. Last night I got freaked out because one of the babies, or all three, who knows, was moving a lot more than usual and the doctor always says…"
"If the movement seems frantic it would be the sign of trouble," Lake finished.
She nodded. "Don and I ended up having to wake Danny and Lindsay up at three am so they could watch Kieran while we went to the ER."
"And everything was okay?"
"The ultrasound shows that everyone is just fine. Just that they're running out of room. Inuterine Growth Restriction. The doctor said she expected it to happen because of how small I am, but I guess she didn't expect it to happen this quickly. So I'm on twice a week ultrasounds and at the beginning of next week I'm on bed rest. I'm not allowed to leave the apartment unless it's for an appointment, I'm not allowed to be alone for prolonged periods of time. I'm not allowed to pick Kieran up. I mean, how am I not suppose to pick him up? I'm his mother."
"You have to take the babies into consideration. Do what's best for them."
Sam sighed and spooned some soup into her mouth. "I am telling you, this is it. No more babies. I told Donnie last night that four is our cut off. And that if he even thinks about coming near me after this, I'm cutting something of his off."
Lake chuckled. "You put the fear of God into that poor guy."
Sam grinned. "He loves me though," she said. "Sometimes I wonder why mind you."
"Probably because you're insanely smart and even more beautiful," Lake offered.
"Chester," she sighed. "Please don't…"
"I was just making a comment, Samantha. An innocent comment. Nothing flirtatious about it."
She raised her eyebrows sceptically but didn't respond.
"So why Flack want you to meet me?" he asked. "What is it he thinks you and I need to talk about?"
"There's two things, actually," she replied. "First is whether or not you ever heard of someone named Lincoln Scott when we were teenagers."
"Name doesn't sound familiar."
"Do you ever remember seeing any guys coming around my house when my dad was off on one of his alcohol and drug fuelled expeditions or…"
"I never saw anyone out of the ordinary. And besides, that neighbourhood was filled with rats that would have run back to your old man and told him about some guy coming around. You know what he would have done to your mom, and probably you and Adam if he'd found out some other man was coming around his wife and kids when he wasn't there."
"Can't be any worse then what he was already doing to us," Sam muttered.
"Look, I'm sorry about your dad did to you and Adam, but…"
"Maybe you just don't remember if you saw Lincoln Scott or not. It was a long time ago. He's about five ten and has dark hair and eyes just like mine. He was a friend of my mom's from high school."
Lake shook his head and chewed and swallowed the food in his mouth. "Doesn't sound familiar," he told her. "I'd remember seeing someone hanging out at your house. So would you."
"He might have come around when I wasn't there," Sam argued. "If you think hard enough maybe…"
"Samantha, there's nothing wrong with my memory. The way your dad was, he would have lost it if there was some other guy around your mom. And I'd remember something like that."
She sighed and was quiet as she munched on a piece of the bread.
"So who is this guy? This Lincoln Scott?" Lake asked.
"Apparently, there's a possibility he's my real father."
He stared at his lunch companion, dumbfounded.
"It's a long, long story," Sam said with a huge sigh and dropped her spoon into her bowl wit a clatter. Leaning back in her seat, she smoothed both hands over her stomach. "My step dad gave me this guy's number. I went to see him and I'm pretty sure that he IS my real dad. He knows things about me and has pictures of me and we even sort of look alike."
"I sort of look like a lot of people, too," Lake told her. "Doesn't mean I'm related to them."
"My mother had a thing with him in high school," she explained. "She found out just after she broke up with him and met up with my dad that she was pregnant with me."
"So she had no clue which guy was your father."
Sam gave a dry laugh. "Talk about an episode of Maury Povich, huh?"
"Why in the hell would your mother keep something like that from you for thirty-four years?" Lake asked.
"Because she's a damn nutter that's why," Sam declared. "She's never been right in the head. I guess she felt she was doing the right thing by keeping something like that from me. Who knows what her reason was. But she did do it and when and if I find out for sure that he is my father, trust me, that bitch is going to pay. All those years she made me live with that monster she called my father when she had the opportunity to get me the hell out of there?"
"Only thing getting you out of there would have done is separate you and tour brother," Lake said. "And you wouldn't have been able to leave Adam there and Adam never would have survived without you. The best thing, during all that insanity, was that the two of you were together, helping each other through it. And your bond with him is even greater because of all the things you've been through together."
Sam sighed and nodded as she considered his words. "Adam has no idea how much he means to me," she said quietly. "I don't tell him enough or spend near enough time with him. And I miss that. And him. Just since I've got back to New York so much has happened in both of our lives that we don't seem to have the time to hang out."
"He probably misses that, too. Maybe you should think about trying to make some time."
"Easy for you to say. Are you pregnant with triplets with a husband and a toddler at home?"
"No. But I'm sure your brother would like to feel like he's still part of your life. But back to what we were originally talking about. This Lincoln Scott who may or may not be your father. What do you mean when and if you find out for sure?"
"He said he had to think about submitting to a DNA test. I mean, what the hell is there to think about? He already has it in his head that he's probably my dad so why not just help me out and find out for sure."
"Maybe he figures he's gone this long without knowing, why bother?"
"Why bother? Maybe because I've got this bomb dropped on me about thirty-four years and I think I have a right to know the truth?"
"This isn't just about you, Samantha. This affects him too. His entire life changes once he knows for sure."
"Please," Sam snorted. "Not like he has to pay me child support. What changes?"
"He's suddenly a father and a grandfather," Lake reasoned. "Those are two huge deals."
"It's not like I'm expecting anything from him," she said. "I don't expect him to be part of my life. I don't expect him to start playing daddy to me and coming around my home being the doting grandfather. I have a dad. Sarge is my dad and the grandfather to Kieran and the new babies. And Don's dad is in their lives too. So I don't need a father and they don't need a grandpa."
"So then why is it so important for you to know whether he's your dad or not?" Lake asked.
"I just want to know."
"Why? Sarge gave you and Adam a great life once he met your mother. He rescued all of you. He's your kids' grandfather like you said. So who gives a shit about this Lincoln Scott guy."
"I do!"
"But why? Why should something that happened thirty-four years ago matter to you? If you don't want him in your life, then…"
"I want to know!" she cried. "You can't drop a bomb like that on me and not expect me to want to know the truth!"
"You know what your problem is, Sammie? You dwell on the past too much. I know it's a shitty thing that happened to you and Adam, but you need to let it go and get on with your life and…."
"Excuse me?!" she laughed. "Now that's the goddamn pot calling the kettle black!"
"What you mean?"
"What I mean is that you haven't exactly been able to let go of the past. You're the one trying to tell me how badly my husband treats me in hopes I'm just going to dump him and come running to you. Give me a break."
"He does treat you badly. It's more an observation then anything."
"What in the hell are you talking about? What has he done that has made him out to be such a bad guy in your eyes?"
"It's the way he treats you."
"And how does he treat me? You still haven't told me what it is he's done to me that makes you get the impression that he treats me bad."
"The way he gets assertive and bossy with you, for one."
"Don is assertive and bossy," Sam informed him. "That's his personality. He's always been like that and he always will be. It's just him. And he's like that with everyone when he's on the job. It's not something I take personally."
"Way he talks down to you," Lake said. "Treats you like a second class citizen. Like you're so much below him."
"Look," Sam sighed heavily. "I don't know where you're seeing all of this, but you're delusional. Don doesn't treat me like I'm a second class citizen and he doesn't talk down to me. He loves me and he respects me. Sure, we have our issues. We have fights where we both talk to each other like we're pieces of shit. But you know what? We kiss and make up each and every time and we're going to keep kissing and making up for the next fifty, sixty years, God willing. So you either shut up and stop disrespecting him, or I get up and walk out of here and never bother with you again. Take your pick."
"I am just telling you the way I see it. And you must see it too to be getting so defensive."
"I'm getting defensive because you're bad mouthing my husband! Do you really think I'm just going to sit here and take that kind of shit? So either shut up about him or get the hell out of my face One of the two."
Lake sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair and stared at her long and hard. Contemplating his options. "What's the second thing he thought we needed to talk about?" he asked.
"Sara," Sam simply replied.
Lake nodded slowly. "So he knows about Sara."
"He's known for months now. He just has never brought it up to you because he feels it's none of his business. You know, he is capable of being a decent human being."
"Sam, I never said that…"
"I told him that I was ready to meet her," she said, cutting Lake off. "And he was a little worried and hesitant. Concerned about the impact that she'd have on our family. But he realizes that nothing or no one could possibly come between me and him or me and my children. Kieran and these triplets mean the world to me. And so does their father."
"And where does Sara fit in to your happy little family?"
"I don't know," Sam admitted. "Maybe she doesn't fit in anywhere. Maybe she'll fit right in. I really have no clue. But I feel I'm ready to meet her. Doesn't mean I'm going to have her over at my place every second night for dinner, getting acquainted with her step-siblings and calling me mom or calling Don her step-dad. So don't get your hopes up that anything like that is going to happen."
"So why meet her then? If you don't want her part of your life…."
"She has a mother and father. And maybe I'd just like to sit down with her and acknowledge to her face that I'm the one that gave birth to her nineteen years ago. Maybe I'd like to give her my reasons and my explanations for why I gave her up."
"And if she wants to be part of your life?"
"Then that's something Sara and I will need to talk about. Because honestly, Chester, I don't know if I can have her as part of my life. I have a husband and a little boy and babies on the way. I don't know if she fits in with all of that."
"And you think I'm just going to let you disappoint her?"
"What the hell do you want from me?!" Sam cried. "I am trying here! I am trying to make amends for the shitty things I've done in my past, Chester! I can only take one step at a time here! And the first step is meeting her and telling her why I made the decisions I did! And I came to you because you're part of her life and my link to her!"
"And you want me to tell her that you suddenly want to meet her? That I ran into her mother out of nowhere and her mother just so happened to say she wanted to meet her after nineteen years."
Sam nodded.
Chester snorted and shook his head. "You're fucking crazy, Samantha. You know that? If you actually think I'm going to give you a hand in breaking her heart."
"I'm not going to break her heart! I just want to meet her!"
"She's been asking about her real mother since she was twelve and she was told she was adopted. I lied to her when I told her I had no idea where you were! I lied because you asked me to keep her out of your life because you were afraid of how your husband would take it!"
"And he took it fine!" Sam argued. "He's fine with it! You think this is easy for him? Accepting that he was a nineteen year old step-daughter! He's thirty-two! Meaning he was thirteen when she was born! Thirteen! And you expect him to just welcome her with open arms and take her under his wing and let her call him dad."
"He's not her father. I'm her father!"
"You're her birth father! You helped make her and that's it! Her father is the man who has raised her since she was a newborn!"
"She calls me dad and if you think that Flack's just going to walk in and…."
"And what? Take over your spot? Give me a goddamn break, Chester! He doesn't want to be her father! He has a son of his own! He has more children on the way. He doesn't need her in his life!"
"And neither do you," Lake said, pushing his chair away from the table and standing up.
"Where the hell are you going?" Sam asked. "Sit down!"
"Just 'cause you can boss your husband around, don't try it with me," he said, and taking out his wallet, tossed a handful of bills on the table. "That should cover the entire bill. Don't ever call me again with anything to do with your daughter."
Sam grabbed his hand as he stalked away from the table. "You know what you're really pissed off about, Chester? You're pissed that I don't want you in the same way as you want me. You just can't handle the fact that I'm someone elses wife."
"You know what? You're right. And I especially can't handle the fact of who it is and the fact that he treats you the way he does and you let him!"
Sam snorted and shook her head. "You don't even know Don."
"You're right, I don't. But I've seen enough to know that he doesn't deserve you."
"And you do?" she asked, a smug look on her face.
"I could do a hell of a lot better job taking care of you then he does. Since I've been here, he's done nothing but fuck up and let you down. And from what I heard, he's got quite the track record of fucking up when it comes to you."
"Get the hell out of my face," she grumbled and turned back to her lunch.
Lake leaned over her and smoothed a piece of hair behind her ear. "One day, Samantha, you're going to realize everything I said today is true. And you know what, I'll be here. Just remember that. Remember I'm here for you no matter what."
"I think you should leave now," she said, sipping the remains of her iced tea.
"One day," he vowed, and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, stalked away.
That will be one cold day in hell, she thought. Wincing as a sharp pain in her lower stomach nearly took her breath away and brought tears to her eyes. She willed herself to calm down, to think about her babies. Knowing she'd never be able to live with herself if anything happened to them.
Or if anything happened to the life she had.
Flack yawned noisily as he sat in the passenger seat of Danny Messer's department issue SUV. He'd been just too damn tired to drive to and from Brooklyn. The trip to the hospital at three in the morning had come after only and hour and a half of sleep. A near sleepless night that had began with calming Kieran after a night terror, and ended with walking through the front door at six in the morning with a scheduled eight o'clock shift.
It had been Danny's idea to accompany him into Brooklyn when Flack had announced he needed to make a visit to Crown Heights. To get himself acquainted with the guy Sam truly and honestly believed was her real birth father. Flack was suspicious to say the least. Not that he doubted her story. He knew when she was telling the truth and when she was trying to pull something over on him. And she wasn't lying. She believed in her heart of hearts that this was her dad. And it was killing her to not know the truth. That this Scott character wasn't willingly to take a simple DNA test to put her tortured mind at rest. Flack wondered if this guy was on the up and up. If he was sincere when he told her that he'd thought all along he was her father, or if he was some kind of wack job holding onto a more than thirty year old fantasy.
Only time would tell.
Danny had told him, when Flack had said where he needed to go and the errand he needed to run, that he knew all about Lincoln Scott. The CSI had explained that when Lindsay couldn't get ahold of Sam the day before, she'd gone through her best friend's things and found Lincoln Scott's address. And that Danny himself, thinking that something was up, had gone to Crown Heights to confront her. Flack appreciated the fact that Danny had his back and was so protective of his best friend. And understood why Danny came to the conclusions of an extra martial affair. And he'd appreciated even more the fact that Danny cared that much about Sam and the babies that he had been compelled to make sure they were safe.
And Danny wasn't about to let his best friend walk into stranger's apartment in Crown Heights alone.
The meeting with Lincoln Scott had gone exceptionally well right from the get go. The man had been somewhat surprised when two NYPD detectives came pounding on his door, especially considering the visit he had the previous day from a woman claiming to be his daughter. But he'd willingly let them in the moment Flack had explained who he was. That it had been his wife that had showed up on Scott's doorstep the day before and that he was worried about her health and well being and what news like that was going to do to her and his unborn children.
The guy had seemed on the up and up. He wholly believed that he was Samantha's birth father and had brought out the photos and the letters from Sam's mother to back up his theory. And while he'd hedged a little and gave Flack somewhat of a rough time when Flack brought up the idea of taking a cheek swab and letting the lab test the DNA to prove paternity, Scott had come around when Danny just said it the way it was. That after the hell that Samantha had suffered from a man she'd thought was her father, she deserved to know the truth. She deserved to know if the monster who'd molested her and abused her and her brother was the man who helped give her life.
They'd left half an hour after they'd arrived, cheek swab sealed up tight and plans on taking it straight to Mac for testing.
"Crimestopper…" Danny said as he made the cut off to Manhattan. "Am I that boring?"
"Sorry," Flack let loose another yawn. "I'm exhausted. Between K and those nightmares and having to take Sammie to the hospital, I'm running on empty here."
"Soon enough those babies will be here and you'll never sleep," his best friend told him. "Get used to it."
"I've already taken care of one baby, remember? I know what to expect."
"So think of it as Kieran times three."
Flack frowned. "You're a bastard, you know that Messer?"
"Just speaking the truth. But Sammie and the babies are okay?"
Flack nodded and closed his eyes. "Somewhat," he said.
"Somewhat? What does that mean? Somewhat?"
"It means they're somewhat okay. They're in no immediate danger. She's going to wind up in the hospital on complete bedrest before the date they gave her to check in. I just know it."
"It's probably the best place for her," Danny said.
"Probably," Flack yawned again. "Jesus Christ. I need a nap. Or caffeine. Or both."
"I'll make a pit stop at the Starbucks on Lex," Danny told him.
"You hear anything on Erica?" Flack asked, putting his seat back and stretching his legs out.
"Montana and I are going to the final ultrasound with her and her lawyer tomorrow."
Flack laughed. "Her lawyer goes to the appointments? Are you kidding me?"
"For her protection apparently," Danny snorted. "I am past caring what that bitch does. I just want my kid. I just want my baby home with me and his mother. 'Cause that's what Linds is. His mother. She's going to be my wife and the one to raise him."
"Him?" Flack asked, cracking an eye open.
Danny shrugged. "Gut feeling," he replied. "I am pretty sure it's a boy."
"Guess you having a boy is for the best," Flack said, closing his eyes once again.
"Why's that?"
"Means I don't have to worry about some daughter of yours seducing Kieran when their older."
"Screw you, Flack. We both know that it would be the other way around. That your kid is going to have a hard time keeping it in his pants."
"Wonder who he's going to get that from," Flack said with a grin.
"Like father like son," Danny sing-songed.
The detective held up a his left hand and gave his best friend the middle finger.
"Come on, Flack. Don't deny it. Before Sammie there wasn't anything you wouldn't tap."
"You've got me completely mistaken with someone else," the other man grinned.
"You're so full of shit," Danny snorted. "But I'm proud of you, you know. I'm proud of my boy."
"Yeah? Why?"
"You've changed a lot. A hell of a lot, in fact. And it all has to do with that ring on your finger and the beautiful, amazing woman that put it there. You've grown up, Don. Ever since you met Sam and things got real serious between the two of you, you became this different person. For the better. I mean, you're a husband and a father. You've got this great woman and an adorable little boy and more kids on the way. I never dreamt in a million years that you'd be so damn domesticated."
"Neither did I," Flack admitted. "Or that I'd be as happy as I am."
"Hang on to that," Danny said. "Don't ever let that, or her, go."
"Don't plan on it. She's stuck with me whether she likes it or not."
"And I do hope my kid is a boy. You know why?"
Flack shook his head.
"Our kids can be best friends. Carry on what you and I got."
"What you and I got?" Flack laughed. "Are you calling us besties, Messer? You been hanging out with my wife too much or what?"
"Hey, the ladies in our lives are rubbing off on me, alright? But yeah. You're my best friend. You always have been. And now K and my son can be best friends, too. Carry on after their old men."
"Quit being so goddamn sappy, Dan-o. It's not becoming of you."
"You know I love you, Flack."
"Say that again and my gun will be going off in a very rare and freak workplace accident."
"What? It's okay for two guys to tell each other they love one another!" Danny argued.
"Sure it is. But that's usually after one of them's gone down on the other one or something," Flack argued.
"You're sick in the head. Don't be such a homophob."
"I'm not!" the detective laughed. "I'm just saying it's not normal for two guys to be saying that unless they're sleeping together."
"Well…" Danny said with a smirk. "I have always found you insanely attractive and had this massive crush on you."
"Okay…either pray you have a paper bag in here or pull the car over so I can barf my guts up."
"I can't help it that I'm attracted to you and always have been," Danny commented, pulling into a spot outside the Starbucks and reaching out to run a hand over Flack's hair.
"Get the fuck outta here, Messer!" Flack bellowed and shoved his best friend's hand off of her.
"You're such a cup cake," Danny chuckled and killed the ignition.
"Me? You're the one feeling me up."
"I am not feeling you up. If I was feeling you'd up I'd…."
"FUCK OFF, DANNY!" Flack roared when he felt his best friend's hand on his thigh.
"Admit it," Danny laughed. "You want me."
Flack snorted. "What I want is coffee. Lots of it."
"Fine…fine…" Danny sighed and tossed his door open. "What do I get for it?"
"Messer…."
Chuckling, Danny shut his door and headed for the coffee shop.
"You little fruit," Flack murmured and closed his eyes and settled his head back against the seat.
Several minutes passed. Flack had managed to drift off into a comfortable, albeit brief nap. Interrupted by a loud knocking on the window next to his head.
His eyes snapped open. Taking in the young kid standing at the door. A large manila envelope in hand. The guy looked no older then twenty and had tousled light brown hair and wide set green eyes. He looked nervous and shaky and his green and plaid hunting jacket and his jeans and his face and hands were dirty.
"What do you want?" Flack shouted through the window.
"Detective Don Flack?" the kid asked.
"What do you want?" he repeated, his hand slipping under his coat and his thumb flicking open his holster. His fingers curled around the handle of his gun.
The kid held up the envelope. "From a concerned friend!"
"Put it on the windshield and walk away, facing me, with your hands up," Flack ordered.
The young man nodded in understanding and did as he was told. Setting the envelope on the windshield before backing slowly away, hands up, palms out.
Flack slipped his gun from his holster. Not taking any chances. Unlocking his door, he cautiously slipped out of the car, gun to his side.
"Not here to cause any problems!" the kid said. "Just wanted to deliver it to you!"
"Who asked you to do it?" Flack asked, weapon at ready as he reached for the envelope.
"Person didn't give me a name. Just asked me to do it. Said they were following you for some time and didn't want to approach you and asked me to do it."
"Guy or girl?" Flack asked.
"Girl."
"What she look like?"
"Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tall. Slender."
"Another cop?"
The kid shrugged.
"Get the hell out of here," Flack ordered. Waiting until the young man disappeared into the crowd before holstering his gun and tearing open the envelope.
He reached in, pulling out several eight by ten coloured photographs. His heart pounded and his stomach nodded at the subject of the photos.
The sidewalk outside of Lincoln Scott's apartment.
His wife and his best friend.
Danny holding Samantha's face in his hands, their eyes locked on each other. Intensely and lovingly. The two of them hugging.
Rage built up inside of him. Tears of anger and heartbreak welling in his eyes.
"What you got there?" Danny asked, as he returned to the car and found his friend, hands shaking, staring down at photos in his hand.
Flack just shook his head. At a loss for words.
"You okay, Don?" Danny asked. "What's wrong?"
Flack held out the photo of his best friend tenderly holding his wife's face in his hands.
"I think you owe me a fucking explanation," he said.
Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing!! Things are going to slow down a bit with VFB as the muse drags me in the direction of the new story! But please, please keeping R and R'ing folks! I appreciate and love each and every one of you!
Special thanks to:
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