DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.

SPECIAL WARM WELCOME TO CRAZYMOO97, CRAZYGIRLCASS AND NY YORK MAKES ME HAPPY!

ALSO, A HUGE THANKS TO ALL OF MY READERS WHO HAVE BEEN SENDING ME THEIR WARM WISHES AND SUPPORT! YOU ALL KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND I THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART!

OKAY, I JUST WANT TO CLEAR SOME THINGS UP. FIRST, I WANT TO APOLOGIZE TO LAURZZ FOR OFFENDING HER IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM. NOTHING IN THIS CHAPTER OR ANY CHAPTER I'VE RECENTLY POSTED WAS WRITTEN OUT OF SPITE OR RETALIATION. IT TAKES A BIG PERSON TO APOLOGIZE IN A PUBLIC FORUM AND I HOPE EVERYONE CAN APPRECIATE THE SENTIMENT THAT WENT INTO THIS. SECOND, YOU WANT TO SLAM MY OC? THAT'S FINE. SHE'S A FICTITIOUS CHARACTER. JUST LIKE DANNY AND LINDSAY AND FLACK AND EVERYONE ON THE SHOW. THEY AREN'T REAL. BUT WHEN THE ATTACKS BECOME PERSONAL BY CALLING MY SON A 'RETARD AND A MONGOLOID', JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING YOU'VE READ? THAT IS CROSSING A LINE. THIS IS A FICTIONAL WORLD WE ARE LIVING IN HERE ON FF. NET PEOPLE. NOTHING IS REAL. AND IT'S TRULY SAD AND APPALLING WHEN A REAL HUMAN BEING WITH REAL FEELINGS TAKES A BACK SEAT TO THE FAKE CHARACTERS.

HUGE THANKS TO DONNA, RACHEL, HEIDI, ANGELIC STARS AND LAURZZ FOR HAVING MY BACK IN THIS.


Rejection and reconciliation

"It's a long trip alone over sand and stone
That lie along the road that we all must travel down
So maybe you could walk with me a while
And maybe I could rest beneath your smile
Everybody stumbles sometimes and needs a hand to hold
'Cause it's a long trip alone

It's a short piece of time but just enough to find
A little peace of mind under the sun somewhere
So maybe you could walk with me a while
And maybe I could rest beneath your smile
You know we can't afford to let one moment pass us by
'Cause it's a short piece of time

And I don't know where I'd be without you here
'Cause I'm not really me without you there."
-Long Trip Alone, Dierks Bentley


Letting out a loud moan of frustration, Lindsay yanked at her hair with one hand and violently slammed the receiver of her office phone down onto its cradle.

She was miserable. Plagued by incessant nausea and dizziness that had prompted Mac to order her to her desk for her entire shift after she'd nearly fainted -after throwing up in a the closest available trash can- while witnessing what should have been a rather tame autopsy. There was nothing too gruesome about asphyxiation. During her years on the job, she'd come across decapitations, disembowelments, dismemberments and everything else that graphic horror movies were made of. She'd always -save for her very first autopsy where she'd spent the majority of the time hunkered down over the sink while her far experienced superiors back in Bozeman laughed at her- been able to take the grotesque side of the job. The sights and the smells and the sounds of the bone spreader rarely caused her to flinch or look away.

But that was under normal circumstances.

And these, she thought wryly, as she snatched an open bottle of water from her desk top and leaned back in her chair. Are not normal circumstances.

She was starving, yet couldn't eat. Nothing stayed down so she'd long given up tempting fate. She couldn't get up from a chair too quickly or she was overcome with both the necessity to vomit, and the most overwhelming light headiness she'd ever experienced in her life. And as if that suffering wasn't enough, she'd gotten up that morning and been unable to button or zipper any of her work slacks or jeans. Thanks to a small, yet visible baby bump that had seemed to magically appear overnight.

It had been an awkward morning. While it hadn't been the first time she'd ever camped out on Sam and Flack's sofa, or she'd either seen one of her friends in their pyjamas, it had been the first time that she'd woken up and immediately felt an urge to expel her stomach contents, and had, on her way to the bathroom, run past a bleary eyed Flack as he stepped out of his bedroom in a pair of sweatpants and a wife beater. He'd hadn't uttered a word as he watched her hurry past, but while an oblivious Danny slept soundly and snored loudly on the pull out, Flack had wandered into the bathroom with a glass of water that he'd set within her reach. He'd then wet a face cloth and spent a half an hour sitting there on the cold bathroom floor, the cloth resting on the back of her neck as he rubbed her back softly with one hand and talked in a soothing, calm voice.

It was the first time Lindsay had ever seen that side to him. The tender, compassionate side that Sam so often bragged about but no one ever got to witness. And while Lindsay had appreciated the affectionate yet friendly intentions behind Flack's attentiveness, it hadn't gone over so well with other people. Samantha, who had heard the retching and her friend's agonized moaning and groaning from all the way into the bedroom, had climbed out of bed and wandered down the hall to make sure that everything was alright. Only to find her boyfriend and NOT the baby's father, sitting on the bathroom floor codling a woman that was carrying his best friend's child.

Lindsay had understood why Sam had reacted the way she had. She probably would have felt the same way had she walked in on Danny and her best friend in a similar situation and threw the temper tantrum of all temper tantrums. Sam, surprisingly, had taken it really well. At first. After the initial shock had worn off -Lindsay could still see her best friend standing in the doorway in that massive hockey jersey, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open- Sam had simply turned on her heel and stormed back down the hallway. The slamming of the door echoing throughout the entire apartment.

Lindsay and Flack had taken one look at each other. Nothing had needed to be said. He'd simply handed her the face cloth and the cup of water and got up and left. And she'd felt like a complete failure as a best friend -she really should have told Flack that she was fine and both insisted that he not baby her like he was and leave- as she listened to the furious voices thundering in the bedroom down the hall. Flack was adamant that he'd done nothing wrong. He was just helping out. Sam was adamant that he'd been part of a very private, personal moment that should have been shared between two people that were together.

The arguing had gone on for nearly an hour. It had woken Danny up and after he'd lied on the pull out listening to what was being not so gently discussed between Flack and Sam, had decided enough was enough and climbed out of bed and gotten dressed. Then had come into the bathroom, tossed Lindsay's clothes at her and announced they were leaving.

Now. The fighting going on mere yards from them was none of their business and he didn't want to be brought into the middle of it. But Lindsay had seen the accusations in his eyes and heard it in his voice in the way he questioned her about what had happened on the way home. And he'd been furious and hurt when she'd told him exactly what had happened. How Flack had so gently and patiently taken care of her and Sam had walked in during the middle of it. Danny agreed with Sam. Flack had no place sharing a moment like that with her and should have had the better sense to just walk away.

And Lindsay should have had enough brains to tell him to take a hike.

That had been three hours ago. Lindsay had been trying to call Sam ever since she'd found out that her best friend had called in sick that day. She had been thankful to see, judging by the smile on Flack's face when they'd ran into each other when he'd arrived for work, that he and Sam had quite obviously kissed and made up. That was a smile Flack only bore on certain occasions. One that clearly advertised to everyone that he was truly and wholly satisfied in each and every way.

His 'just fucked smile', Danny had long ago dubbed it.

Flack wasn't happy however, when he'd told Lindsay that Sam had feigned illness over the phone to Mac and played hooky that day in favour of staying in bed or sitting in front of the television and moping. Lindsay could tell that he was concerned. He was complaining about her moods, but it was in his eyes and in his voice that he was genuinely worried. And he'd confided in her that he was going to do whatever it took to get her the help she needed.

She admired his dedication and loyalty. Men had left women for a lot less and Flack was determined to hang in there. He'd come to far and had worked too hard to get her, and he wasn't going to let something treatable tear them apart. He was convinced that Sam was his forever. And he wasn't about to turn his back on her because they were travelling a rocky road.

She only hoped that he wasn't setting himself up for a world of hurt.

Taking a gulp of her water, Lindsay leaned forward in her chair and picked up the phone once again. Holding the receiver to her ear with her shoulder, she dialled the familiar number and waited for someone to answer. One ring became two. Two became three. Three became four. And when the rings surpassed the number of fingers on her hands, Lindsay was sure of two things. Either her calls were being blocked or the answering machine had been turned off.

And all was not right in best friend land.


"Goddamnit!" she bellowed and slammed the phone down a second time. "Quit being such a stubborn little bitch and answer my damn calls!"

"Still no luck?" Danny asked, catching his fiancee's outburst as he wandered into the office she shared with Hawkes, a plastic shopping bag dangling from the fingers of his left hand.

"No," Lindsay huffed, then putting her face in hands, let out a scream. "Why does she had to be like this?" she cried. "Why? Why does she have to hold grudges like this? It was a simple, stupid mistake. All I want to do is apologize for it and make sure that she's okay. It's all I want!"

"Well maybe.."

"Why does she have to be like this, Danny? Why does she have to be so fucking stubborn? Why does she always have to have the last say? Why can't she just swallow her pride and answer the damn phone?"

"Easy, Montana. Easy. Have you ever thought that maybe…"

"I swear to God, if she doesn't answer the next time I call, I am going to send a uniform over there to kick the door down just to make sure she's okay!" Lindsay huffed.

Danny frowned. "I think you're overreacting a little bit," he said, as he dropped the back on her desk and journeyed around the to the back of her chair. "I think maybe Sam's just…"

"And then I'm going to…"

He clamped a hand over her mouth. "Would you just be quiet for a second?" he implored, as she tilted her head backwards to look at him. "Would you just let me finish what I've been trying to say for the last five minutes? Has it ever occurred to you that she's sleeping? That she's turned the ringers off so she can get some rest? Or that maybe she's in the shower or upstairs doing laundry or God forbid she left the apartment to get some fresh air. Has any of that ever occurred to you?"

Lindsay shook her head.

"Relax. Sam's fine. She's a big girl. Give her some damn breathing space," Danny said, and removing his hand from over top of her mouth, resisted the urge to press a kiss to her forehead or lips. Or both.

But Mac was on the war path lately regarding public displays of affection -of any kind- while in the workplace. And with the way Whitmore was riding his ass and department cutbacks looming over head, Danny decided to be on his best behaviour. He honestly didn't know how Sam and Flack did it. For the most part -save for the little incident in the ballistic lab that continued to be gossiped about and blown way out of proportion- they had to be the most professional couple Danny had ever seen. They refrained from getting to close to one another while on the clock and very rarely found themselves in a situation where they were in the same room alone.

Most of that had come about since the IAB/x rated pictures incident. Sam and Flack had jointly decided to take the low key approach to their relationship while at work. Something Flack had confessed to Danny that was exceptionally hard to do. He worried about Sam constantly and it drove him wild when she so as much walked past him and he got a whiff of her perfume, or how she'd deliberately tease him by brushing her body against his as when slipping between him and a table in one of the labs. And he nearly went insane -with a jealousy that Danny seriously thought his best friend really needed to get a handle on- if she so as much chatted with another guy. Whether it was a lowly lab tech or another detective.

And if it was Marty Pino…well that was another story all in itself.

Danny seriously admired his friends' will power for keeping thins professional. To the untrained eye, one would never guess while watching Sam and Flack at work that there was anything going on between them. He used the same tone when talking to her as he did the other CSIs. He got harsh and rattled off sarcastic comments like he did with everyone else. But to the people who knew them, both Sam and Flack's feelings and emotions were laid bare in every look that was exchanged between them.

Danny's will power was not that strong. But his fear of losing his job over a simple kiss, was.

"But something could be seriously wrong with her," Lindsay said, as he stepped away from her chair and walked around to the front of the desk once again. "She could have done something to herself."

Danny couldn't help but laugh. "Brooklyn is nowhere near suicidal," he said, as he busied himself with unpacking the contents of the shopping bag. Two large cartons of milk, several small packages of Melba Toast and two plain croissants for her, and a pre-packaged garden salad with French dressing, an assorted sub and a bottle of Coke for himself. "She's not out to hurt herself," he continued, setting the food items on the desk. "She's just wants to be alone. There's nothing wrong with that. So just…just leave her alone already."

"She's my best friend, Danny. She's my best friend and I screwed up and she hates me."

"Come on. Sam's incapable of hating anyone. You're best friends. Best friends get in fights and say mean shit and sometimes it takes a while to mend things. But they never hate you. You need to give her some time to cool down. She's just a bit sore about what she saw. She probably just wants some time to herself."

"Maybe…" Lindsay sighed.

"No maybe," Danny told her, and grabbing the chair from behind Hawkes' empty desk, placed it in front of Lindsay's and sat down. "She doesn't need you breathing down her neck all the time," he said, as he opened one of the milks and unwrapping a straw, popped it into the container before sliding it across the desk towards his fiancee. "You and Flack both need to seriously chill out and back off. Give the girl some alone time. She's not a little kid. She can take care of herself."

"I know that," Lindsay said. "It's just that…" she picked up the milk and took a sip. "She shouldn't have to deal with this on her own."

"She's not dealing with anything on her own," Danny told her. "We're all here for her. But you and Flack…you both need to stop smothering her so much. You're both constantly on her. Practically tripping over yourselves to take care of her. You both need to just chill."

"You mean chill like the way you do?" asked Lindsay. "By closing yourself off completely? By being totally in different towards her? By all but distancing yourself from her?"

Danny shook his head. "I'm not doing that," he argued.

"You are. You're cold, Danny. The way you've been acting? It's like you resent her or something."

"I love Brooklyn. You know that. She's like a little sister to me."

"Sure," Lindsay snorted. "Like a little sister you've disowned."

He frowned. "I'm not treating her like that. I want to help her too. Wasn't I was just defending her and her reasons for not answering the phone? I am not indifferent. I'm just going about things a different way. You and Flack do the babying. I'll do the tough love."

"That is not what she needs," Lindsay informed him.

"How do you know what she needs?" he challenged. "How do you honestly know? And don't say from dealing with your mom because everyone suffers and copes with depression in a different way. You and Sam have always been friends, but not the way you guys are now. You weren't the one that handle her the first time around. It was…"

"It was Angell," Lindsay finished angrily. "It was all about Angell. Jess and Sam. Sam and Jess. The Bobsey Twins. Kindred spirits. Totally inseparable. I'm honestly surprised that they never had anything more happen between them considering the raging girl crushes they had on each other."

Danny stared at her, surprised by the bitterness in her voice.

"It was always Samantha and Jessica," she continued. "Until they decided to fuck the same guy."

"What is wrong with you?" Danny shot back. "Why are you talking like this? You know damn well that Sam and Flack did nothing wrong when he was with Angell. So why are you…?"

"They always did have a lot in common. They look enough alike to pass for sisters. They have nearly the exact same personality. Same taste in clothes, music, movies. And now they have something else even better in common. They've got naked and done the nasty with the same guy. They should get together and compare notes."

"I am not listening to this," Danny declared. "I don't know what's gotten into you. I don't know if this some kind of emotional, hormone fuelled outburst or whatever, but you might as well stop 'cause I don't want to hear anymore."

"Who knows…" Lindsay mused. "Maybe they'll hook up and be besties again and Flack will get his ultimate wish and have both of them at the same time."

"Lindsay!" Danny snapped. "Enough! I know you're upset! I know there is some crazy ass shit going on right now in your body and it's messing with your mind. But there's no reason to go off on a tangent like this just 'cause you're panties are in a twist 'cause Sam and Angell were best friends. Get a grip, okay? Calm down. Why are you…?"

"Angell was here," Lindsay blurted out. "Down at the precinct actually. I heard that she came to see Flack. And that they left together and didn't come back for more than an hour."

"I know," Danny said.

"You know? You know he's messing around behind Sam's back with his ex?"

"What?" Danny laughed. "Messing around? He's not messing around. He called Angell to ask for help with Sam."

Lindsay frowned. "Why?" she asked. "Why would he do that?"

"'Cause Angell dealt with it before," Danny replied. "Flack felt if she did it once, she can do it effectively again."

"But he asked us for help," Lindsay argued, genuinely hurt. "He asked us to help her. Why would he suddenly change his mind about that and go to his ex when we're more than perfectly capable of handling things? Doesn't he trust us?"

"Of course he does. It's nothing personal. If anything, he's doing it for your own good."

"My own good?" Lindsay gave a small laugh. "Trying to replace me in Sam's life with Angell is doing it for my own good?"

"Actually, he wasn't thinking about replacing you. He was thinking about you and the baby," Danny informed her "OUR baby. He's worried that dealing with Sam and the stress that might come with it will be too much to dump on you and he doesn't want anything happening to you or the baby. He was thinking of the two of you and what was best for both of you. Ask me, that's pretty damn sensitive and compassionate for a guy like Flack."

"It is. But…"

"But what? He's got yours and the baby's best interests at heart. He doesn't want anything happening to either of you. And you know what? I've got to agree with him on this. You need to step back and let someone else handle Sam. Someone that can effectively take care of her. Especially if she gets out of hand."

"I can handle Sam," Lindsay declared.

"No offensive, Montana. But even if you weren't pregnant, Sam could take care of you. Easily. I know you've got that whole tough country girl thing going on, but she's got that hard ass Brooklyn street edge to her. There's no comparison. You really think if it ever came down to a fist fight you'd get the upper hand?"

"Well…maybe not…"

"That's just stupid, immature talk anyway. It's not like the two of you are going to bash each other around. The point is, Flack is thinking about your safety and the health of the baby. He's using his head. Which for Flack, does not happen enough if you ask me."

"It feels like he's replacing me," Lindsay said sadly. "Like he doesn't think I'm good enough of a best friend and he's looking for someone better. I mean, Angell? Of all people it had to be her?"

"He trusts her. With his life, " Danny reasoned. "Not that he doesn't trust you…but he trusts her even more. He knows Angell doesn't have any qualms about getting nasty right back if Sam starts in on her. And he knows that if it ever came down to it while Sam was in a mood, that Angell would drop her in a heartbeat. It had nothing to do with him wanting to replace you."

"Sure feels like it," Lindsay murmured as she bit into a piece of Melba Toast.

"What is this? Middle school?" Danny laughed. "A person can't have more then one friend? Sam can't hang out with you AND Angell? She's just suppose to be at your beck and call and not have any other buddies?"

"Of course not. I just…I don't know…I guess I'm worried she's going to forget about me."

"How can she forget about you? You work in the same place."

"You know what I mean, Danny," she said exasperatedly. "I just don't want to be on the outside looking in all over again. The third wheel. Watching as it's Sam and Jess Part Two."

"Grow up," Danny mumbled.

Lindsay stared at him. Long and hard. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"I said grow up," he spoke more clearly. "We're adults in our thirties. Not high school kids. There's no goddamn cliques here. We're a group of collective people doing a job. A team. We're not here to socialize. To make friends. We do a job and we go home. We hang out on our days off. Spend holidays together. But there's no rule that we can't be friends with other people to. What do you want Angell to do? Fill out a membership form for Team Monroe/Ross? Does she have to pay some kind of admittance fee? Pass some kind of test that dictates she's suitable to be in the fold?"

"You're an ass," Lindsay informed him.

"What I am is sensible. You're talking like some girl in home room that's all pissy 'cause her bestie is talking to the girl that sits on the other side of her. Sam and Angell want to hang out? Let them. You can still be friends with Sam 'cause she's friends with someone else. I seriously don't see what the big deal is."

"Because you're a man," she huffed. "That's why. It wouldn't bother you if Flack started hanging around someone and ignoring you?"

"Who says anyone is going to start ignoring anyone? I love you, Linds, but for once I can't see eye to eye with you on this. You're being petty and immature about the whole thing. And instead of worrying about hanging out, maybe you should be concentrating more on other things. Like the fact we have a wedding coming up and a baby on the way. Sam and Angell wanna hit the bars and troll the streets all night? Let them. They're not in the same boat as you are. They've got no commitments they need to go home to at night."

"I don't want to feel left out, Danny. I don't want to be replaced."

He sighed heavily and took a swig of Coke. "We're going around and around in circles here. I get that your on edge, alright? Your body is rebelling on you. You're hormonal and all of that. But if you sat back and thought about this rationally, you'd see that Flack is acting with the best of intentions. That he's doing this to help you. Not screw you over."

Lindsay sighed heavily and picked at the croissant sitting in front of her. She felt miserable. Both emotionally and physically. Not only was her pregnancy taking total control of her body, but her brain as well. The simplest words or gentle corrections on something she did while processing evidence had her fleeing from the room in tears. Danny had innocently commented on her baby bump that morning and she'd turned it into a personal attack on her weight. She'd caught a lab tech eyeing her suspiciously and she'd lost it on the poor kid, accusing him of finding her something disgusting to look at. When in reality he was just trying to find a way to spark small talk over the fact that his wife was expecting a baby as well.

She was making lapses in judgement. She had never should have allowed Flack to get that close that morning. And she should have never left the apartment without going to the bedroom and apologizing for what must have looked like a very suspicious event. She would have reacted the same way and would have definitely thought the worst if she'd seen Danny and Sam in a similar circumstance. And if Sam was still sore about what had happened, Lindsay knew it was best to just give her time to chill out. They'd both still be around when the time came for talking it out.

And so would their friendship.

"I guess I have been acting a little irrational," she said, after several minutes of long silence.

"A little?" Danny asked.

"Okay…so a lot…" she admitted. "I just…everything just is totally out of whack. I get pregnant and my brain cells disappear. This baby is just causing sheer havoc already. Dizziness, nausea, insomnia. And I'm only going into my fourth month. I don't know if I'll survive the next five."

"You'll be fine," Danny assured her. "I have faith in you. You're a strong woman, Linds. You just need to start showing it is all."

"I guess…" she said. "You do realize this is all your fault, right? The crappy way I'm feeling, my mood swings, my irrationality. You do realized you caused all of this, right?"

He gave a nod. "I am fully aware on the philosophy that gets you and Brooklyn through the day," he said.

"What philosophy is that?" she asked.

"Blame the man," he replied. "For anything and everything."

Lindsay smiled, and breaking off a piece of her croissant, tossed it at him. "It's not a philosophy," she said. "It's a way of life."


Sam groaned loudly and pulled the comforter up over her head as the hammering on the apartment door continued. It had been going on for nearly ten minutes now. What had started out as a persistent yet fairly calm knocking had soon exploded into someone slamming both of their palms and pounding their foot into the wooden door.

It was shortly afternoon hour and she was still in her pyjamas. In fact, she had had no plans of getting out of them until she knew that her boyfriend was expected to walk through the door. Flack always called once his shift was over to let her know that he was on his way. It had become a routine for them. Whoever was the last off would always call the other. Both to let them know they were off, and to ask if they wanted anything picked up at the store or brought home for dinner. That day he was scheduled until six thirty. With travelling time, he wouldn't walk through the door until just before seven. Her plan had been to stay in her jammies for the better part of the day and then around five o'clock, grab a shower and get dressed and start supper. She'd clean the apartment while something was cooking in the evening. Giving the impression that she hadn't been sitting around all day, and had, as she'd promised, managed to keep herself busy.

She'd pulled herself out of bed at ten, taking her pillow and the comforter with her. She'd made herself a cup of tea and a piece of toast and peanut butter and had checked her email on her lap top before seeking refuge on the couch once again. She'd snuggled under the comforter and did nothing but watch Maury Povich and The Price is Right. She had no desire to get dressed or leave the apartment. She felt…emotionally drained. A feeling that she had grown accustomed to since her teenage years and she dreaded with every ounce of her being. She hated that despondent, lonely feeling. The thoughts that no one in the free world could possibly understand what she was going through, nor did they care to understand. She was certain that once she became too much of a burden, everyone and anyone in her life that claimed to love her would be out the door. That she'd wind up miserable and alone.

And that she deserved to.

Totally irrational thoughts that her chemically unbalanced brain concocted all on it's own. And despite being used to those feelings and those fears, she was frightened by them. The paranoia of being unloved and unwanted caused her anxiety that constricted her chest and caused her to break out into a cold sweat. She was tired of feeling that way. Of having her brain and her emotions rebel on her. Betraying her. She never knew when the depression was going to hit. It just crept up when she always least expected it. What should have been the happiest time of her life -finding love and forever with who she considered the most amazing man in the world- was turning into a complete nightmare. Because of her.

Soon, she had thought, relying on positive thoughts to cheer her up and turn things around. Soon you're going to get some help and things are going to get better. You'll be back on your feet and feeling great. You're not going to lose him. How many times does he have to tell you? He's in this for the long haul. He's not going anywhere. And if you don't believe the words, think of everything you could see in his eyes. The concern and the compassion. The security and the sincerity. The reassurance.

The love.

It was love. She didn't deny that. She could see it in his eyes and all over his face. She could hear it in his voice and experienced it in his kisses and in his touches. In the way that morning, after they'd fought long and hard and she'd ended up in tears, he'd taken her face in his hands and kissed those tears away. And afterwards, with a tenderness that nearly stopped her heart and took her breath away, he'd taken her to their bed and made slow, intense love to her. Showing her that she was beautiful and wanted and desirable. After, he'd held her in his arms and she'd laid with her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat deep within his chest. Feeling his hands as one stroked her hair and the other drifted up and down her bare arm. She was pretty certain they would have both fallen back asleep and he would have been hours late for work if dispatch hadn't called him out to a scene, disrupting their peaceful afterglow.

And speaking of disruptions, she now thought, as the thunderous noise at her apartment door continued. No matter how many times she yelled at whoever it was to go away and no matter how much she ignored them, the noise continued. And she knew, to avoid troubles with the neighbours and the superintendent being called up to investigate, it was in her best interest to just get off her ass and find out who the asshole was that had the nerve to interrupt her day.

She tossed off the comforter and jumped to her feet. Muttering curses and straightening her black camisole and smoothing out the back of her pink and black stripped satin pyjama pants as she went. Her bare feet padding on the hard wood floor and then the hideous red area rug she'd been after her boyfriend for a month now to get rid of, as she headed through the living room, past the small, cluttered wooden dining table and chairs and down the narrow, short hallway that led to the front door. Nearly colliding with the hockey sticks and hockey equipment bag that lay propped against the wall and took up just too much damn room.

Standing on her tip toes, she peered through the peep hole to see just who the obnoxious offender was. Her eyes widening in surprise, she hurriedly slid the chain across and snapped open the dead bolt and yanked open the door.

"Hey, sunshine!" Jessica Angell greeted cheerfully. "I was starting to think you were going to make me kick the damn door down."

"What are you….?"

"Don called me," she said, before Sam could get another word out. "He told me that you were going through some hard times and he asked me for my help. Well, here I am. At his service. I guess he figured since I've handled you before when you got like this, I was the perfect candidate for the job. Now before anyone gets on the phone and starts gossiping, I showed up at his desk this morning and we went out for coffee together. To talk. About you. I just figured telling you now would spare Don a whole lot of grief when he got home tonight."

Sam couldn't help but smirk. Jess was nothing if not straight to the point.

"So are we going to stand here and get re-acquainted or can I come in?" the other woman asked. She held up a carry tray of beverages. "I've even bought a peace offering. Double lattes with triple shots of caramel. I mean, you can't possible say no to THAT can you?"

Sam shook her head and stepped back from the door, holding it open and letting her friend into the apartment.

Friend. Is that what they were again? Friends? Or were they at least going to attempt to be that way again? The truth was, she'd missed Jess. Terribly. She'd kicked herself in the ass every day for the way things had gone down between them. She hadn't wanted to hurt her. She hadn't wanted a guy to come between them. But it had happened and things were said. Awful, regrettable things that couldn't take back and still stung when she replayed them in her mind. But nothing was more painful then not having Jess as part of her life.

"So what's going on?" Jess asked, as she kicked off her boots and headed into the living room. She sat the take out tray on the table and pulled out one of the chairs.

The apartment hadn't changed much since she'd last been there. Since she'd practically lived there. The same books and magazines still littered every possible table, as did stacks of mail and case files. One of Flack's ties, still with the knot in it, lay slung over the back of one of the chairs. The only real difference was the small touch of femininity that Sam had managed to inject into the place via an orange pillar candle in the middle of the coffee table, and various women's items of clothing that were tossed on the couch. And the fact that the place, although still cluttered, was cleaner and smelled better. How Sam had actually talked him into letting her spray Febreeze on every available surface, Jess would never know.

"Not much," Sam admitted, pushing the strap of camisole up onto her shoulder.

"Not much as in nothing is going on or not much as in you don't want to talk about it?" Jess asked. "I mean, obviously a lot has gone on in your life since November. You wouldn't be living here if nothing had happened in the span of the last four months."

"My parents moved here," Sam explained, crossing her arms over her chest. "They took over my lease and I moved in here with Don. We're looking for a new place though. Something bigger."

"Which you two definitely need," Jess mused. "Considering you have to share your living room with his hockey crap and he has to all but abandon all hope of having even the smallest slice of the bedroom closet thanks to all of your shoes."

Sam grinned. "He made me throw out ten pairs," she admitted.

"Which leaves you with twenty more. And I bet you replaced those ten already."

The tiny brunette gave a small laugh and pushed her hair behind her ears. "Just a couple of them," she said.

"You're our version of Imelda Marcos," Jess teased. "One day you'll need an entire apartment just for your damn footwear."

Sam laughed harder this time. Then lapsed into a long silence. Her eyes dropped to the scuffed floor as she nervously traced the tip of her big toe along a scratch in the hard wood. Feeling uncomfortable under the weight of Jess' dark, soulful eyes as they remained locked intently on her.

"Look Jess," she finally said, giving a heavy sigh as she looked at the other woman. "I just want to say…"

"Sammie, we can stand here all morning and apologize for what went down between us," the detective cut her off. "We can stand here and air all of our dirty laundry and say sorry until we're blue in the face. We can talk about what we should have said or what we should have done and how we should have dealt properly with things. The truth is, we handled it downright shitty. We were immature and things spiralled quickly out of control and we could have dealt with it in a far better way. I never should have said what I did to you. It was wrong and I wish I could take it back."

"And I never should have betrayed you like I did," Sam said. "I didn't want things to happen, Jess. They just did. I didn't know how Don felt about me, or that he was planning on breaking up with you to be with me. Had I known that, I never would have…."

"You never would have what?" Jess asked. "Hooked up with him? Come on, Sammie. That's a bunch of shit and you know it. I knew that you liked him from the practically the first day you started. You would have hooked up with him regardless. We both know that."

She nodded sheepishly.

"We both handled the entire thing badly," Jess told her. "No one is at more fault then the other. It happened. It's in the past. We need to keep it there. Think we can do that?"

"I'd like to do that," Sam said.

"When I was with Don today…I'm not going to lie to you, Sammie. All those feelings I had for him? They were still there. I haven't been able to get over him."

The other woman sighed heavily and looked away.

"But I'm no threat to you," Jess assured her. "And I don't want to be. My life with Don is long gone. And he made sure I knew that. He told me that there was never any possible way that he'd ever want to be with me again. He told me that he was in love with you. That he wanted forever with you. And he meant every word. It wasn't just in his voice, but it was written all over his face. That guy is hopelessly, madly and passionately in love with you. And he will do anything he can to make sure that you're okay. And that included calling me to help you get through this. Trust me, Sammie, he's a keeper. I hope you seriously realize what you have and that you never take that for granted."

She smiled and nodded slowly. "He's my everything," she admitted. "I never thought I'd ever feel this way about anyone. I never thought anyone would feel this way about me."

"Well he does. And seeing him like that? So happy and complete? It made me realize that I can let go. That he's in good hands. That I can go on with my life because he was able to get on with his. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," Sam said.

"That you won't hurt him. That you'll always appreciate him and tell him you love him. That every time he walks through that door on his way to work, that you kiss him and hold him and tell him everything that's in your heart. Because he deserves that. You deserve that. And I'd hate for anything to happen to either one of you and the other have to live with a whole load of regret. Promise me you'll do that? Always tell him what he means to you?"

"I promise."

"Good," Jess said. "You break his heart, I kick your ass. Got it?"

Sam laughed. "Got it."

Jess smiled and reached out and drew the smaller woman into her arms. "I missed you, Sammie," she said sincerely. "And I'm sorry."

"So am I," Sam told her. "And I missed you too."

"We never should have let some guy come between us," Jess declared, releasing her friend from her embrace. "No matter how devastatingly hot he is or how great a kisser he is."

"He is a really, really, really great kisser," Sam said, then laughed.

"I've always called him fantastically orally gifted," Jess admitted. "And don't blush and tell me you don't know what I mean either."

"Oh I know what you mean," Sam said, then immediately flushed and fanned herself with her hand. "Is it getting hot in here or what?"

It was Angell's turn to laugh. "You know," she said, taking a seat at the table and tucking a foot underneath her. "I kind of feel bad for Don in a way."

"Why's that?" Sam asked, grateful that the awkwardness of reconciliation was behind them. She took a seat across from her friend and reached for one of the lattes.

"His ex girlfriend and his current girlfriend sitting in his apartment talking about his…skills, I guess we can call them? It seems a little cruel."

"Well at least we're saying all good things," Sam reasoned. "I mean, I definitely have no complaints."

"How can you?" Jess asked. "I mean…I know exactly what he's capable of. And I have to say, you are one lucky girl."

"Yes," Sam agreed and snapped open the lid on her beverage. "I am."

"So tell me…." Jess leaned back in her chair and sipped at her latte. "He come clean about his little thing with being handcuffed to the bed post yet?"

"He did," Sam said, then hung her head in embarrassment. "But I have to admit…he's used them on me more then I have on him."

The other woman laughed. "You're a dirty little girl, Samantha. At least you're in good company when I'm around. Don's ears must be just burning right about now. If he only knew…"

"Well he doesn't," Sam giggled. "And what he doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Very true," Jess agreed. "How about when we're done here, you get your ass in the shower and into some clothes and we hit the streets. Indulge in some retail therapy."

"I like that idea," Sam said. "And Jess…" she took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly. "I just want to say…I just want to say thank you. For coming here today. You had every reason in the world to not want to help Don. To tell us both to go fuck ourselves. And you didn't. And I'm glad that you're here. That we're friends again. I mean…we are right? Friends again? Or least trying to be?"

Jess nodded, and leaning forward in her chair, reached across the table and laid a hand on Sam's arm. "We never weren't friends," she said. "We were just on hiatus for a little while."

Sam gave a smile. "I really am glad you're here," she said.

Jess gave a warm, comforting smile of her own.

"So am I," she responded.


Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing. I appreciate each and every one of you! Even the lurkers! Things in BEG land have been a little…insane lately. I'm not exactly sure how long I am going to continue this story, or the others, but right now I am enjoying writing and entertaining all of you! And I hope that you're all still enjoying reading as well and that you'll all return once the craziness of exams lets you out of it's evil clutches!

Thanks for the support!

Please R and R folks!

Special thanks to:

Hope4sall

Afrozenheart412

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