Aurie's tired of buses.
She appreciates them as a relatively cheap, somewhat decently reliable form of transportation, especially considering she's a long way off from being a licensed driver, much less owning a car.
However, she does not appreciate transferring multiple times to different buses nor does she like how long it takes to get to Union Station when it'd take far less than half the time by car. That's not even accounting for other passengers making the ride uncomfortable or whenever the bus inconveniently breaks down.
Unfortunately, she did have to deal with more than a couple of weirdos, two of whom she was sure were high on something. Mostly she'll find these situations entertaining but has seen things get ugly and dangerous quickly to not want them happening at all. Then to make things even more annoying, one of the buses she transferred to broke down, and everyone had to wait for another to replace it.
Although she didn't like taking off on Mark, she realized it was a good thing she did it when she did. Los Angeles traffic is insane! So, with everything combined, it's nearly three excruciating hours before she finally makes it to Union Station.
Slightly disoriented, it takes a few minutes to figure out where she needs to go buy her ticket. Finding the right area, she searches for the schedule board. She knew she missed the six-thirty bus but was even more annoyed the eight-fifteen bus had been canceled. Now she has to wait for the nine forty-five bus. She doesn't fail to notice this bus has a nine-hour travel time, meaning there are lots of stops. She really wanted one of the direct seven-hour rides, but the next one wasn't until two thirty in the morning.
Releasing a harsh breath, she looks over at the ticket windows. Narrowing her eyes, she glares in annoyance that they're all closed for the staff meal break.
With nothing more she can do; she visits the restroom before finding a seat with a good view of the ticket window to wait. It's only an hour later when the windows open again, but it feels like so much longer. Queuing up, she patiently waits in the long line for her turn.
Despite making good time heading back into L.A., it still takes forty-five minutes for Steve to get to Union Station.
He spends the entire drive thinking about Aurie being his daughter. He was so sure he wasn't. How can it be when he doesn't recall having sex with Amalia? He's always been careful with his sexual partners, so if he did sleep with Amalia, what was different? Why can't he remember?
And after Spencer shot down her claim he impregnated her, did she ever realize who had fathered her child? If so, why didn't she ever let him know? Why isn't she in Aurie's life? He would've accepted custody in a heartbeat if she didn't want Aurie.
His thoughts shift to Aurie saying that if she found her father, she didn't want a relationship. He wants one. He wants to get to know his daughter. They may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but he wasn't kidding when he told his father that Aurie should be in their lives. Despite the circumstances, she's family and there's always a place for family.
Steve's thoughts drift to realizing he'll need to take the day off tomorrow and mentally reviewing if there's anything important related to his current cases he must take care of.
Thinking about what needs to be done to settle her in with them, such as moving her from Tucson and school, starts feeling overwhelming. Likely he's going to be taking a lot of time off in the coming days.
With a heavy sigh, he puts those thoughts aside. All he can do is bring her home and tomorrow they'll take the first step in family court. There's no way in hell he's giving ICE the chance to deport her.
Finally arriving at Union Station, he finds a good parking spot then exits his truck and heads into the terminal, searching the bright interior for Aurie as he approaches the doors.
He spots her just as she steps up to the ticket window.
"I need a one-way to Tucson on the nine forty-five," Aurie tells the woman behind the glass partition.
"Need your picture ID and will it be cash, credit, or debit?"
"Debit," Aurie answers, about to reach into her backpack to pull out her wallet.
"She won't be needing a ticket," Steve's voice interrupts.
Aurie's surprised gaze snaps to him on her left, holding up his badge for the woman to see. She just shrugs it off.
"Next in line!"
Steve slips his badge into his pocket while gently pulling Aurie away from the window with his free hand.
"C'mon, let's go," he murmurs, guiding her out of the terminal just as her brain catches up to what's going on.
"Wait a second!" she protests when they step outside, trying to tug her arm from his grasp. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Taking you home."
Guiding her over to his truck, he lets her go to unlock it. She turns on her heel to head back towards the entrance. Quick to respond, he firmly grasps her shoulders to steer her towards the truck's open door.
"Don't do this! I need to be on the next bus to Tucson!"
"Not tonight," Steve replies, releasing her. "We can do this the easy way and I drive us home or the hard way where I call for a squad car to pick you up as an endangered minor. The second choice is messier but guarantees you're not going back to Tucson for several days."
Aurie crosses her arms and glares at him, gauging how serious he is. Reading her mind, he leans forward and smiles.
"I'm completely serious."
Realizing he is, she glares harder and then grudgingly climbs into the truck. Softly sighing in relief, Steve closes the door and walks around to the driver's side. Starting the engine and backing out, he feels her anger as she silently glares out the window into the darkness.
"It wasn't nice to run away and worry Dad," he states, breaking the tense silence several minutes later.
"What the hell?" Aurie growls, glaring over at him. "I didn't run away! I was going home."
"Kind of looked that way. Seemed like the moment you were left alone at the house, you took off," he points out, deliberately pushing her buttons to get her to talk.
Incredulous, Aurie gapes at him.
"If I ran away, you wouldn't find me. I wouldn't head back to Tucson," she bites out through gritted teeth.
"Maybe not," he shrugs. "But what's so important that you couldn't at least wait for Dad or me to get home? If you needed to rush back, one of us could've driven you or booked a flight to get you there faster."
"I don't have to tell you shit," she snaps. "You're not my mother."
Resting her elbow on the door ledge to prop her chin on her hand she resumes glaring out the window again.
"No, I'm not," he calmly agrees. "But I am your father."
It takes a long moment for his words to sink in before her shocked gaze snaps around to him watching her.
"What?" she breathlessly asks, not quite grasping what he's saying.
"Dad got the results of the paternity tests before he came home today," Steve explains. "Ours was positive. I'm your father."
Slightly open-mouthed in shock, Aurie searches his face for any signs of deceit as he returns his attention to driving. Struggling to process the news, she spends the rest of the drive staring silently out the window.
When he parks back in the driveway it's nearly nine o'clock. Aurie wordlessly slides out of the truck, shouldering her backpack before slamming the door closed. Silently they walk back into the house.
"We're back," Steve calls out as he shuts the front door.
Aurie steps into the den just as Mark appears.
"I'm so glad Steve found you in time," he states with a relieved smile before surprising her with a hug.
Feeling her tension, Mark reluctantly releases her and steps back to give her some space while Ellen hovers in the background, observing everything.
"I guess Steve told you he's your father, right?" Mark asks. She sullenly nods in answer. "I'm sorry we had to interrupt your trip."
"I left a note explaining the basics and I'd be back," she states in a flat, irritated tone.
"I found it," he nods. "But when we looked at the test results, we had to bring you back here. We should take advantage of that open slot in Family Court tomorrow to prevent ICE from deporting you since Steve is claiming paternal responsibility."
Stunned, her head whips around to look at Steve.
"I'm not giving ICE the opportunity to deport you," he answers her silent question.
Recovering somewhat, Aurie's frown deepens.
"I don't think ICE was that anxious to toss me back into Mexico that fast. I have to be back in Tucson by Thursday. Not Friday, not next week, Thursday."
"So, you keep saying," Steve retorts sardonically, crossing his arms and leaning against the ornate post of the entryway into his dad's study.
"Because no one is fucking listening!" Aurie growls back.
"Aurie!" Mark scolds.
"No!" she snaps back, startling him. "I'm not fucking joking about going home and it was embarrassing to be dragged out like a damn criminal! It wasn't just in front of the ticket clerk but everyone there!"
"Steve?" Mark frowns in confusion at his son.
"She was about to buy a ticket and I needed to get her out of there as simply as possible." Giving Aurie a look, he adds, "I never announced you were under arrest."
"No," she sarcastically drawls. "You just flashed your badge and dragged me out by the arm."
"I didn't slap my cuffs on you or read you your rights," he calmly reasons.
"To the casual observer that would appear you were arresting her," Mark arches a brow.
"We both wanted her back here and that was the easiest way instead of arguing about it in the middle of Union Station."
"You didn't even try talking to me," Aurie hisses. "And the damn results weren't supposed to be ready until maybe the end of the week. That hearing slot would've still been open until then."
"True, but I want to get started on claiming custody of you and moving you in with us."
"What?" she frowns while shaking her head as if she hadn't heard right.
"You heard me," Steve steps forward, his gaze boring into her eyes. "You should be living with us. You're family."
"Like that matters," she scoffs, taking a step back.
"Of course it does," he protests.
"No, it doesn't. Ask my mom," she challenges. Shifting to walk towards the bedrooms. "I told you I don't want a relationship and I'm not leaving Tucson."
"I'm sorry, Aurie, but you may not have a choice," Mark states, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. He holds up a piece of paper for them to see. "Ellen did me a favor and got your birth certificate from Mexico. You're thirteen, not fifteen." He sighs at her shocked expression and the color draining from her face. "You're probably not old enough to be in any of the programs you're in."
"Thirteen?" Steve incredulously repeats.
"A reporter friend of mine in Mexico City found it and will be express shipping an official copy to me," Ellen quietly explains, having also noticed how upset Aurie is.
"Aurie's age coincides with the time we last remember seeing and interacting with Amalia," Mark points out, stunning Steve further.
"Fuck me," Aurie grumbles before stalking towards the bedrooms.
"Aurie!" Mark calls after her. His only answer is the sound of a door slamming.
"That could've gone a lot worse," Ellen sighs, breaking the silence.
"It could've gone a lot better," Mark points out.
"I couldn't have handled it any other way," Steve briefly closes his eyes while shaking his head. "She was adamant about heading back to Tucson and would've kicked up a fuss."
Ellen steps over to wrap her arms around his waist, to which he responds by engulfing her in a hug.
"Can't undo what's happened," she murmurs into his chest. "You just have to keep navigating these strange waters."
"On a more superfluous note," Mark smirks, attracting their attention. "We ordered pizza earlier. I don't think Aurie will come out to eat, but do you want me to heat up a slice for you?"
Steve considers it before shaking his head.
"I think a long walk on the beach would help clear my head."
"I'll go with you," Ellen smiles up at him.
"Okay, you two enjoy," Mark smirks at Steve leaning down to kiss Ellen.
Deciding to call it an early night, Mark heads for his room as they head out for their walk.