AN: I know, I know. It has been almost a month. Thank you for being so patient with me. I wanted to finish "With love" story, so that I don't have 3 open stories. Once again I learned that 3 is too much. 2 is too much as well, but it's more manageable. I'll try to get back on the regular schedule.

Hope you enjoy :)

Amy POV

Stef and I were on our lunch break. The school was out and a lot of adults take vacation during summer, not to mention the tourist, so there were a lot more people on the streets. Today we decided to stop at the Betty's bakery. It was a place Stef showed me just few weeks in of us working together. The owners were a nice, elderly couple. Since my first visit to the bakery I have learned that owning a bakery together was a dream of theirs. Owen, who was very often seen at the front of the shop, was very talkative and friendly person. Whenever Stef and I stopped at the bakery, we would start a friendly chat. I can't say much about his wife Betty, because I have never actually seen or talked to her. Whenever we come around, she's in the back of the shop. Either helping in the kitchen to cook the pastries, pies and other goods or doing some paperwork in the back room.

We had our pasties in the brown paper bag and we already paid for everything. Now we were getting our coffee. Stef already had hers in her hand, so she was leaned back at the counter waiting for me, till my coffee is ready as well.

"How's the adoption going on?" Stef asked and raised the cup up to her lips to take a sip of the hot beverage. It has been few weeks since I started the adoption process. Till now everything was going smoothly.

"Pretty good," I answered and glanced to the coffee machines little interactive window which showed me the drink was still preparing "We're almost done with all of the paperwork. All that is left is for Callie's biological father to sign away his parents rights and then we can make a date with the judge."

Ever since Aaron died, it seems as if Stef has become my to-go person. I tell her pretty much everything. Stef is a person, who is easy to talk to. She's a good listener. I trust her. Stef's the person, who I spend big part of my day with. The other person being Callie. Sure, there are follow officers at the precinct and other people from outside my work and family I consider friends. But life has established in a way that now I consider Stef to not only being my partner, but also a dear friend, whom I care about.

"You think he's going to sign?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," I admitted to my partner "I know very little of him. Callie hasn't mentioned him once. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing in this particular situation," I said as I reached for the cup. We walked out of the bakery shop and headed towards our car that was parked two buildings down.

"Not even once?" Stef questioned, her eyebrow raised up a bit. It was obvious she found it surprising and odd.

"Nop," my answer was short as I raised the cup to my lips to take a sip and kept my eye up front

"Have you not asked?"

I licked my lips after I lowered the drink down "I don't want to push her."

"Sometimes a little nudge can help a kid to open up," Stef said knowingly

"I want her to feel safe enough so she could come to me. I want her to trust me!" At that statement, a memory at the back of my head started to resurface. Of how I had showed her blue duffle bag at her chest and told her to pack her stuff. Fear that maybe Callie doesn't trust me anymore grew bigger and bigger. She said she forgave me, but did she really? What if she hasn't put it behind her? What if because of what I did she doesn't feel like she could come talk to me?

"Have you thought about the fact that maybe she doesn't know how to start that conversation? How to come to you with that sort of...stuff?" Stef pointed out, when we had reached the car "The topic of biological parents can be thought conversation. Callie may not know how to approach you, because she worries how you will react." Stef made a good point and it made me thoughtful. The knowledge of that probably came from her own experience with the kids she fostered.

Stef walked around the car to the get to the passenger seat while I walked towards the driver doors "You need to show her that you care!" Stef told me from the other side of the car

"I do!" I stated loud and clear as I gazed at Stef over the car "She knows that I do! I tell her daily!"

"Remind her again," Stef smiled at me "Foster kids need the reassurance more than others!" Stef said and opened the doors to get in the car.

I slowly and slightly nodded my head as I thought about what Stef just said. It's not that I didn't know that Callie needs to be reassured that I love and care about her. But a small part of me thought that now that the adoption is actually in process, she would need a bit less. Adoption process itself is a grand gesture of telling a kid – I chose you, I want you, I love you unconditionally and I'm here for you no matter what.

Letting out a small sight, I sat in the car and closed the doors behind me. As I was sat in, Stef handed me one of the pasties "Here!" Stef took out her pastry. We clinked out pastries like people clink vine glasses "Bon appetite!" We told each other with a smile

~o~o~o~

I heard the TV running as I opened the front doors, so I called out, thinking Callie was sitting in the living room "Callie, I'm home!" But I got no answer. The volume wasn't turned on that high so she wouldn't have heard me.

Maybe she had fallen asleep – I thought to myself as I walked towards the living room. But there was no sign of Callie in the room. The blanket that usually stand behind the pillow, was tossed on the couch. Clearly Callie had used it. Remote stood on edge of the coffee table, on top of the book.

Not thinking much of it, I made my way up the stairs all while getting my belt off. Once I had reached the top of the stairs I heard a well known sound that made my mother instincts to spike up. The sound of vomiting was coming from the bathroom. The doors to the bathroom were left ajar, making the sound be easily heard.

I made my way to the bathroom doors quickly "Callie?" I asked, my voice full of worry, as I pushed open the bathroom doors. The moment I set my eyes on Callie, I hurried to her, setting my belt in the sink as I passed it by. Callie was kneeled down by the toilet, holding on to the side of it as she was heaving. Her hair was open and falling down, shielding her face and getting in front of face.

"Oh, honey!" I gasped when I started to gather her hair so that it doesn't get in the way. But it was too late for that. Some of the hair was already covered with the vomit.

I grabbed the nearest towel that I could reach and tried to get the vomit off her hair a bit, so that it doesn't smear more of her hair. It seemed like the nausea had passed, because Callie leaned backwards a bit and covered her eyes with her hand as she got her breath back. She reached up and flushed. Once I had gotten most of the vomit out of her hair, I let her hair down. Only so I could mess up my hair and get a hair rubber band. I gathered her hair again, but this time made a high messy bun, so that hair doesn't fall onto her face and get in the way.

"Hey, not feeling great? Huh?" I cooed softly as I crouched down next to her, my left hand resting on her back. All I wanted was to see her face, her eyes.

Callie took her hand away from her face, letting me see her eyes. Her skin was pale, her eyes had no spark in them and she looked to be completely drained of her energy.

"I'm fine!" Came a weak and very unconvincing reply from her. I could not believe she was trying to convince me that she was fine, mainly because I saw her. I was right next to her as she was throwing up.

"Who are you trying to fool, sweetie?" I raised my eyebrows while continuing gazing to her eyes "Hmm?" I paused couples of seconds, letting Callie realize that I did not fall for that. When she dipped her head down as well as her gaze, I knew she realized that I won't just leave her alone, when she's in a state like this.

"Do you still feel nauseous?" I wanted to get Callie into her PJ and in her bed. But when I had a second look on the clothes she was wearing, I got a bad feeling that she's not telling me something. Her clothes looked all too wrinkled up. It was like she had been sleeping on the couch under the blanket for hours. They just looked too wrinkled.

Callie feebly moved her head up and down.

"Honey, when did this start?" I asked, when I pressed my hand to her forehead, feeling it. It was slightly warm. And felt a bit sticky, possibly from the sweat.

Callie tilted her head up to look at me and her body visibly tensed up. "Just now," Callie replied unconvincingly. Her statement actually sounded more like a question. I believe it was because in her head, she was wondering whether or not I would buy the lie.

"Okay, and now the truth please? I promise I won't get mad," I pressed gently on the topic, having a gut feeling that she might have gotten sick during the first part of the day, not after lunchtime. Callie stared right back at me. She licked her lips couple of times and I saw how she swallowed repeatedly in just few short seconds. Her hand flew up to her mouth the next instance as her body retched as she was fighting to urge to vomit. She turned back to the toilet and emptied her stomach content all while I was rubbing her back and trying to sooth her. It appeared that her stomach was now empty and she was dry heaving.

I got Callie into her PJ and in her bed some 30 minutes later, after questioning her in more detail about how she was feeling. Just in case, I set a bucket down next to her bed. The last water bottle that we had in the fridge, now stood on Callie's bedside table half empty. One glass was used as a drink to swallow the medication. I had instructed her to drink a second glass, because I didn't want her her to dehydrate. Who knows, when was the last time she had a drink. For all I know, it could have been at the breakfast table. A full pack of crackers stood next to the water bottle, but Callie hadn't touched any. Not yet at least. Her stomach was still acting up.

I was now sitting on the side of her bed. Callie was laid down on her right side, her hands underneath the pillow. The blanket was tucked around her to keep her warm. Slowly and fondly I was stroking her hair as she tried to fall asleep.

Callie opened her eyes and turned a little more to her back to have a better sight of me "I was at anger management class, when I got sick," Callie explained "There's a stomach bug going around the community center. Some other kids had it last week. We had a substitute teacher today, because our teacher had taken a sick day himself."

"Why didn't you call me? I could have come pick you up!" Callie rolled to her other side at my question, turning her back on me. I wasn't sure what to think of action. Her right hand was up to her face and she started to bite her thumb nail. My question had gotten her nervous.

"I didn't want to bother you," Callie admitted in a small voice after a while

I leaned closer to Callie, pressing my right hand at the bed on the other side of Callie's body. With my left, I moved a strain of hair out of her forehead "You could never bother me, pumpkin! I want you to come to me: when you're feeling sick, when something is bothering or worrying you, when you need someone to talk to or someone to just listen. You can talk to me about anything!" her eyes darted my way briefly, before she resumed staring at the sheet of the bed or the wall. She was not feeling up to eye contact.

I poked the tip of her nose "To you, I'm available 24/7!"

Callie scrunched her nose and allowed herself a small tight smile. I watcher her with a smile.

"It's just," she spoke up once the smile had faded away "some foster parents got angry, whenever I had gotten sick. They didn't like it when I disturbed them. Others ignored me or told me to sort it out myself," Callie's voice got more quieter towards the end "After a while I realized, it was much simpler and easier not to tell them at all and just...get everything myself."

"They do not sound like nice people. Nor do they sound like good parents," I replied as I caressed her cheek gently.

The more I learn about Callie's time in foster care, the more my heart aches for her. There was some people who treated her like nothing, which made me angry, but also determined to give the girl everything she deserves and more. I wanted to show her love that would make up for love that she has been missing these past few years in the foster care.

I moved my hand to her head and started to run my finger tips fondly over her hair, stroking it.

"You remind me of my mom," Callie said barely above whisper. It was a confession I was not expecting. Her eyes briefly darted to me, but as quickly she glanced to me, she averted her eyes away. Too shy and timid.

A smile spread across my lips. I had never thought she would say something like this. I took it as a huge compliment. "How so?" I wondered, curious.

Callie rolled on her back and looked up to me "You're very nurturing, like my mom was," The smile on my lips widened

"Try to get some sleep, pumpkin!"

I decided to ask her about Donald tomorrow, when she was feeling better. Also, I didn't think now was a good time anyway. Question about him might just ruin the moment for us. All I know, they could still have strained relationship. After all, Donald was responsible for killing her mother.

Callie rolled back on left side, pulled her legs up and put her hands under her head and pillow. I made sure the blanket was covering her shoulders. I placed my palm over her head and I leaned down to place a tender kiss on her forehead, before leaving the room, letting her rest.