Erin was too overwhelmed, too anxious and nervous to take a seat. She found herself standing in the middle of the lobby of the diagnostic center. She was nine weeks into her pregnancy, or in other terms, she was a little over two months pregnant which is a little nerve-wrecking to think about considering that women are pregnant for nine months -some would argue ten if you consider the period of fertilization- but that's not the important part, that's not what's having her nerves shot, it's the fact that her next doctor's appointment is a little over a week away and it'll be her first one with Jay by her side, not her mom or Burgess, but the kid's father.

She talked them into letting her go alone.

She's still undecided on whether or not that was a good idea.

She's not yet ready to tell them about running into Jay Halstead.

It's no point in telling them that she ran into her kid's dad if he has no intention of staying in the picture.

It's hard to believe that she's a few weeks shy of entering into her second trimester. All of this is going by so fast and she doesn't know why she wants to freak out but the urge is there. Maybe it's because she's almost finished with her first trimester and she's exactly where she was at in her life when she first found out she was pregnant. The only difference is that now she knows about Jay's identity; the man, the father of her baby that's currently in a committed relationship.

Erin never once considered herself to be a homewrecker. Coming from a wrecked home herself, she would never intentionally sleep with a taken man. A part of her, a small part actually doesn't want him to be her kid's dad because it'll mean less stress and less drama but she knows that he's the dad so it's no point in hanging onto a shred of nonexistent hope. She's supposed to be stress free during her pregnancy, but she knows that this is all a recipe for disaster. Every ingredient from him being in a committed relationship to her being the daughter of his boss meant that the recipe they were cooking up was one that was going to burn and bring down the house with it.

She checked in for her appointment. It was a quick process and the paperwork that followed was filled out in less than five minutes. She's so done with paperwork. She hates it, and majority of her job involves it. What is her life right now? What is wrong with her decision-making capabilities?

Erin pulls out her cell phone when she feels it vibrate in her pocket. It's a message from Burgess, I found a few spots we should take a look at after I get off. I'll email them to you, -KB

For the last couple of days, Kim has been helping Erin search for apartments despite the fact that she doesn't want and she's not ready for her best friend to move out. If Erin wasn't pregnant then maybe she would have stuck around longer but there's a long to-do list in Erin's mind on things that she needs to get done before the baby comes and moving out, unpacking and preparing the nursery is only a few of those things on a list of many. She may only be nine weeks now but time seems to fly when she's having a mental breakdown every other day.

"Sorry, I'm late," she looks up and pockets her cell when she hears his voice; she watches him approach her and take the seat directly next to her. He could have at least left one seat between the two of them since so many seats were available but nope, he's sitting right beside her, their shoulders are only a hairsbreadth away from touching.

"You're not late. You'd be late if I was already in the exam room." Erin pulls her water bottle out of her purse and gulps down a healthy amount before sitting it by her feet. Her mouth was dry; she didn't know if this was a reaction to her pregnancy or his proximity but she did notice that she wasn't as thirsty before he arrived. This was going to be a long appointment if they didn't get over the obvious awkward silence that stretches among them.

Erin stared at the black-framed wall clock for the fifth time in an effort to force the time to speed up. Her glare scrutinized the second hand on the clock which seemed to linger an additional minute at every passing second. She forced herself to look away, she pried her eyes off the device, silently promising to not look at the clock again unless she needs to which'll probably turn out to be in the next few minutes. This moment is a bit awkward, it's just her and him sitting next to each other, waiting for their names to be called. She thought of pulling out her cell phone, maybe browsing social media or googling the addresses of the apartments that Kim sent her, but it might come across as rude, to bury her face and attention into the screen of her phone instead of trying to at least spark some type of conversation with him, "So," she hears him clear his voice from beside her before shifting his body to slightly turn in her direction, "what do you do in your free time?"

She's a bit caught off guard by his question, by him even initiating a conversation with her. She didn't expect it and therefore she had no control over her pupils drifting over to the corner of her eye, side-eyeing him while her face remained aimed straight. She believes that it's possible that he misspoke, that he could have been talking to himself, that he had a Bluetooth in his ear that she couldn't see and he was talking to someone else or maybe he was rehearsing for a later conversation with another person, -one of those had to be the answer; he couldn't possibly be talking to her, but as it goes to show, based on his body language, how he's facing her, looking at her and patiently waiting for an answer, she knows it was no mistake, she knows that none of the potential scenarios she threw out were correct and she knows that she was the intended target for the question, "Um," her eyes flickered down to stare at her lap, "you don't have to do that."

"Do what?" He actually sounds confused.

"Pretend that you're interested in getting to know me."

This may not be the ideal situation but she didn't want to force a friendship with someone who wouldn't be a friend of hers on any other given day.

He shrugged before turning to face forward, no longer choosing to face her, "I just figured it's a good way to pass the time."

"Are you nervous?" She's trying to rationalize the reason behind the idle chitchat he's trying to initiate. Maybe he's trying to talk about something else in order to keep his mind off of his worries?

"No, what reason would I have to be nervous?"

It's Erin's turn to shrug, "I don't know. It's not like you're going to be stuck with a needle," she casts a look in his direction to see if his indifferent expression has changed; it didn't, "I've been stuck with a needle enough times at my first prenatal appointment. I was starting to feel like a damn test subject," she smirks at the end of her response when she sees his expression break, finally something knocks that indifferent look off of his face.

"…scared of needles?"

"No," she immediately shakes her head, her shoulders start to loosen up and for the first time since she's walked through the doors of the clinic, she feels the tension start to leave her body, "not at all, but if I had an option between having my blood drawn or a check swab, there'd be little debate."

The way the corners of his lips lift upwards, the way the dimples pierced her cheeks, the way his pearly white teeth glimmered under the fluorescent light and the way her eyes lit up at the fact that her quip pulled such a genuine reaction and smile from him.

This was unexpected. This was different. And if it wasn't for his leg accidentally brushing against hers then it would have probably lasted a little while longer. He turned forward, smile dropping while she tried to think of something else to say, something else to get them back to where they were only seconds ago. A little brush of the thigh, his against hers, was powerful enough to dry her throat, forcing her to reach down and drink the last remaining drops in her water bottle. She didn't know what he was thinking and she was happy about that; he couldn't imagine telling her about the quick flash of memory that went through his mind of the last time their legs brushed together. He's blinking, trying and struggling to clear his mind until she said, "I love to draw."

"…huh?" He didn't know if she had been talking and he was just distracted or if she just started speaking. He was too consumed in his thoughts to know what was going on.

"Earlier you asked me what I love to do in my free time," she cleared her throat as she rose to her feet to dispose of her empty water bottle into the trashcan in the corner of the waiting room, "draw," she randomly added the second she flopped back into her seat, "I used to do it all the time. It was my creative outlet and I guess it's a plus that I'm actually good at it."

For a split second, he remembers the picture she drew for Evan, the little kid that they brought to the precinct after he discovered both of his deceased parents. It was a good picture and she'd only done it in a few minutes; he couldn't imagine what she would be able to draw with more time.

"You said you used to do it all of the time," he carefully turns to her, being mindful not to have his leg touch hers, "And you're so good. Why'd you stop?"

Erin should have known he'd ask that; he's a detective, all they do is ask questions.

"I cut back after my brother died and I moved away. I kind of lost inspiration," she was honest. It was no point in beating around the bush or lying. It's been years since Justin passed, she could talk about it more now. And for some reason, a stranger was easier to admit things to than a family member or close friend.

"I uh, I love going to the shooting range. It's like therapy for me. I used to go backpacking too."

His change of topic wasn't as subtle as he probably tried to make it appear to be. She expected follow-up questions. She thought he would ask about her drawings, about her inspiration, about her brother, what did she used to draw, how did she learn to draw, how did he die, how old was he, when did he die? But, Jay didn't. Instead, he noticed how uncomfortable the topic of her brother was starting to make her so he changed the conversation, choosing instead to switch gears and tell her what he enjoys to do in his free time.

"Used to?" She picks up on the past tense, "What made you stop?"

"My mother died."

Erin intertwined her hands over her lap, "…seems we unfortunately have that in common."

He tilts his head after he turns it in her direction, "Your mother died?"

"No, I meant a loss stopping us from doing something that we loved to do."

"Something I wouldn't want to have in common with anyone."

"Same," Erin nods. And for some reason it feels like they can't escape this endless loop, this mood of coming back to such a solemn tone and topic.

Erin is back to staring at that clock. Her eyes are focused on that second hand, squinting hard enough for a frown line to appear in her forehead as she tries to forcefully move the hand forward without even touching it. She hates awkward silences, they're such a mood killer, yet for some reason it follows her and Jay around in every conversation.

He reaches behind his head to scratch, "I love running or I guess working out in general," she blinks back into focus, pulling her gaze away from the clock and back onto him. She scans him, her eyes scrutinizing him from top to bottom, from head to toe, "I can tell." She didn't even try to hide the fact that she was eyeing his body. It was pretty obvious and all he could do was chuckle awkwardly, turning away only to hide the reddened tint to his cheeks.

To spare him of any unnecessary embarrassment, Erin adds to her former response, "I run but it's not something that I love to do."

"…then what's something else you love to do?"

It only takes a second for her to think of another answer, "Does painting count or is that too similar to drawing?"

"Painting counts," he nods.

"I actually minored in art in college."

"Really," he appears to be impressed, "and what did you major in?"

"Social work."

"…makes sense," he laughs.

"Ugh," Erin throws her head back after checking the time on the clock once again, "What's taking so long? What's the point of making an appointment when they're not going to stick to the appointment time? If I was late, they'd charge me a late fee. If I wanted to cancel, they'd charge a cancellation fee. Why can't they be more courteous with people's schedule? We scheduled our appointment for that specific time for a reason. You're here on your break, I have a few scheduled apartment viewings that I need to be at after this, and you only have a certain amount of time before you're supposed to be back at work."

And not two seconds after her monologue, their names are called.

She gets up first. He stands up next. He follows behind her as they're led into the exam room.

It's a quick process. The physician draws blood from her upper arm and the way her eyes are closed and her face is aimed in the direction of her lap, lets him know that she's pretty nervous despite her earlier words of reassurance. Jay is by her side as her blood is drawn, and he could see she's uncomfortable, it's pretty obvious, especially when she starts to bite her bottom lip. And while he may feel the small urge to reach out and hold her hand, he doesn't want to cross any lines or do anything that she's not comfortable with. She's still a stranger. He has to remember that.

His cheek being swabbed isn't painful at all and takes even less time than her blood being drawn. She's at his side, standing there for moral support even though he doesn't need it. It's a simple cheek swab that is far from uncomfortable and far from unpleasant; it takes less than ten seconds and the swab is sealed tight and labeled. The physician informs them of what's left, detailing how long the results should take to come in before allowing Erin to choose her method of retrieval, whether it's an in-person visit or via mail. She chose mail; it's easier that way and she doesn't have to go through another awkward waiting room moment with Jay.

After shaking the physician's hand, she wraps the strap of her purse over her shoulder before walking out the door. She needs to go home and print out the email that Kim sent her before texting her friend to meet up at the first apartment on the list. She hopes that one of them is the right fit; she has faith because she shared her apartment criteria with Kim and her friend wouldn't send her apartment listings that didn't match her requirements.

She's back in the lobby of the diagnosis center when she hears him call out, "Hey Erin," he took a pause for two reasons, the first is to take a deep breath and the second is to wait for her to turn around and face him, "Do you think this can stay between us?"

Erin incredulously quirked her brow while pushing her sunglasses down over her eyes. The sudden blackness masking her gaze allowed her to intently stare at him without him noticing, "…or in other words, you're asking me can I keep it from my dad?" She read through the lines.

Jay didn't want to flat out say that but he's found out in their brief interactions that Erin wasn't the type of person to beat around the bush; she was very straightforward. And although her words didn't sound harsh, he wanted to add in a little bit more clarity to justify his suggestion, "It's just…if I'm not the dad then he doesn't need to know that I slept with his daughter."

"…and what happens when you find out you are the dad?"

"We'll cross that bridge if we get to it."

"I figured," she remarked; the words coming out under her breath. And based on the look on his face, it's apparent that he didn't hear her. She's not too surprised by his request. She didn't tell her parents and her best friend for her own reasons, but she did plan on telling them eventually, at least that was the plan before he had asked her to stay hush on the whole situation.

With her eyes hidden by the darkness of her shades, she watches his hands fumble nervously at his side before being shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. He intrigues her. She's learned a lot about him today but she knows there is so much more to learn especially before the baby comes, well, that's if he intends on even being in the kid's life. He's rocking on the edge of denial, not knowing if he wants to dive in completely or wait and pray that it's not his. He's going to be disappointed when the results are in. Erin knows that Jay is the father and there's nothing either one of them can do about it, "Hey," she blinks out of her reverie to find him standing just a little bit closer, a look of concern on his face as his hand waves side to side in front of her face, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she catches his wrist when the sight of his waving hand starts to annoy her, "I'm always fine." And he finds that hard to believe. He sees the mask that she puts on but he doesn't know her enough to see through it; he doesn't know or see the real Erin underneath.

He doesn't call her out on the obvious lie. He doesn't have to know her to know that her words weren't the truth. No one can always be fine. It's impossible and unhealthy. He doesn't know her enough, he's not entirely comfortable with her. She's still a stranger regardless of the situation they've found themselves in.

Instead, he forces a smile to stretch across his face, hoping that his own mask is good enough to trick her into believing this was the true him he was presenting, "Let me walk you to your car."

She seems to contemplate his offer. It's understandable though. Erin doesn't want to get attached only for him to walk away the second he gets scared of the idea of becoming a dad. It's best to keep him at a distance yet even while knowing this and being firm behind this idea, she finds herself slowly nodding and accepting his offer, "Okay."

Silently, he leads her towards the exit, pushing and holding the door opened for her like the gentleman his mother raised him to be. She sends him a smile and she whispers her thanks before walking out into the low temperature of the afternoon, a clear sign of the beginning remnants of winter. The door shuts behind her and he moves to walk alongside her, "Are you from Chicago?" It's a simple question; it's simply a means of filling in the awkward silence until they get to her car.

"Nah, I'm from Wisconsin." He doesn't know what her car looks like or where she parked so he's walking a half a step behind her to make it easier to follow.

Her sunglasses remain in place, hiding her eyes from his view, but now her attention is drawn to opening her purse in an effort to stick her hand inside and search around for her keys, "So," he can sense a subject change, "Do you have any relatives? Or are you circling the earth solo?"

"I have a dad and a brother. Don't feel like talking about them though."

Slowly, she withdraws her car keys, "Dad and brother and don't want to talk about them. I guess it's safe to say your family life is complicated, mine is too and the baby will fall right in line."

It's a bit self-deprecating.

"…not if I have a say in the matter," he asserts. His tone was confident; his words forceful. He stood by his words and that was reassuring.

"We can't pick our families."

"Voight got to pick his," he pulls his hand out of his jacket pocket and reaches up to scratch behind his ear, "…I mean, he chose you." He didn't know how far she parked but based on the weight of the conversation, it felt like her car was lightyears away.

"…yeah, I guess he did." That was a new perspective. She appreciated that.

"And we'll choose who will be in this baby's life."

A part of her tries not to smile because he's talking as if he's going to stick around, he's speaking as if he knows the results will prove he's the dad and he's communicating as if he'll be devoting time and actual energy into raising this kid. She won't get her hopes up, even though the thought of not being solely responsible for a baby is comforting, she won't grant herself a semblance of peace because she knows that at any second he can change his mind. She focuses back on their current conversation, choosing instead not to bask in his words for much longer.

"I'm taking from how you mentioned your dad and brother that you'll choose for them not to be in the baby's life," this is weird for her. She's talking important decisions, parental decisions, decisions that'll affect another human being and she's talking about it with a man who'll have half of the decision-making responsibility.

"…if it's my baby, then yeah."

And it's reverting back to that. All throughout the day she's picked up on him either claiming the baby or expressing hesitance in its paternity. It's confusing as hell but she tries to get it. She puts herself in his shoes. They are strangers to each other. Strangers, who had a night of unprotected sex before parting ways only to be reunited later with the news of a pregnancy. He has every right to question the paternity whether she likes it or not. He doesn't know her; he doesn't know what she's capable of and he doesn't know if she's the type of person to lie about something like this.

She's not. She wouldn't do something like that.

"It's your baby," Erin asserted.

"…then yeah…if I can save my kid from half the toxicity that my brother and dad bring then yeah…you're damn right I'll keep them away. I might not even tell them about it."

Was his family that bad? She didn't know him enough to comfortably ask right now.

"…and your girlfriend?" But, apparently Erin was comfortable enough to ask about her.

"What about her?"

Her car is close. And he's making this complicated.

Erin slowly inhales before clarifying her question, "Will you choose for her to be in the baby's life?"

"If we're still together," he shrugs. And for once she wished she wasn't wearing the damn sunglasses. It's not even that sunny outside but she committed to wearing them so she has to stick to it but now the darkness of the shades was conflicting with her ability to attempt to read him, especially from the angle in which she stands from him.

"Why wouldn't you be?" Erin doesn't typically ask stupid questions. This is probably one of few.

"…because she doesn't know I knocked up my one night stand."

"That makes sense," she clicks the unlock button on her keys and when her car beeped up ahead, she sighed in relief, knowing that this awkward exchange is about to end, "I forgot. My bad."

"It's cool," he brushes it off.

The next few steps to her car are awkwardly quiet, neither one of them know what to talk about next. They're strangers who are forced to communicate. It's going to take some time, and hopefully the next six or sevenish months grant them enough time to at least be comfortable around one another, to not feel the need to bite their tongue and actually express themselves openly, "Well," she comes to a stop at her driver's side door, "this is me."

He nods, hands untucking from his pockets in order to open the door for her, "Thanks for agreeing to do this, Erin. I know you probably don't get my reasoning behind it but," he reaches behind his head to scratch it; she's picking up on that nervous tic of his, "if I'm going all in, I need to be sure. It's nothing against you. I just need to be sure. I don't want to spend my life second guessing."

Erin leans into her car to toss her purse onto the passenger seat before straightening up to look at him, "I get it Jay, maybe not at first, but I get it. And when I receive the results in the mail, I'll call you. I won't open them without you there."

"…promise?" He smiles.

And for some reason his smile makes her smile, dimples appearing in her cheeks and all, "I promise," she nods, pushing the sunglasses up until they rest on top of her head, "I uh, I should get going," she throws her thumb over her shoulder to point at her car, "I'm uh, I'm meeting my best friend to go check out a few apartments. I'll talk to you later, Jay."

He doesn't head to his car right away. Instead, he waits for her to slide inside and he takes it upon himself to shut her car door. He watches as she buckles herself in and then proceeds to start her car. When she finally pulls off, he still doesn't move. He's too busy staring at the back of her vehicle, watching as it goes farther and farther away until it disappears into the distance. He's stuck, apparently frozen in time, as the day's events cycle through his mind. There's so much to process and it's only the middle of the day and he's due to be back at work soon. He gathers a particle of strength inside of him to guide him back to his car, his mind continuously cycling the events of the last hour, only to forcibly cut them off in an attempt to make them stop.

He needs to think of something else. He has to go to work. He has to look his boss in the eye and intentionally withhold information that he's pretty sure Voight would argue that he has a right to know. Jay has lied via the act of omission to him, but for some reason this felt different, he's meeting up with Voight's daughter behind his back, he's texting her behind his back, behind Abby's back, and this is all a mess that he wishes he can dig himself out of. He's a screw up -his father was right, he was always right, he's always been a screw up. And now he hopes, at least for the kid's sake that he or she isn't his, because if Erin knew what was good for her baby, then she wouldn't want him anywhere near them regardless of paternity. He doesn't want kids because kids deserve better than him as a father.

Jay kicks the back tire of his car and shouts an expletive in an effort to relieve himself of some of the pent-up frustration simmering within his body. It hardly did much, but at least it did something, it did enough for him to go back to work and attempt to fool a team of investigators into thinking that his life wasn't currently spiraling out of his control.