Disclaimer: I don't own the TV show Passions or its characters, plot, or setting. This story is a creative work based on the established Passions universe (with some of my own original additions you'll meet here) and is intended for entertainment purposes only. It is not meant to infringe on any copyrights.

Two evenings later, the chime of the doorbell drew Ivy's attention. The servants had already left for the day, and when she looked through the peephole, she was immediately grateful that they had and she was alone. Sam was on the other side of the door.

"Hi," she said softly when she opened it, searching his face. As much as she tried, she couldn't read his mood.

"Hi. Can I come in?"

"Sure." She stepped aside and closed the door behind them when he entered. "How did you know where to find me?"

"Pilar gave me your address."

She should have guessed. "Well, would you like to sit down?" It went without saying that he'd come there to talk.

"That sounds good."

She showed him to the living room and took a seat in a chair. He sat on the end of the couch closest to her chair. Ivy dared to sneak another look at him. At least he didn't seem angry.

His eyes were on her lower abdomen. "It's true? You're pregnant?"

She nodded silently.

"Did you do this on purpose?"

So this was the kind of conversation she had to look forward to. "No," she said honestly. "I only knew I wanted to be with you again. I didn't think about this happening. At my age, it didn't seem likely."

"What are you going to do?"

"I want the baby." In her case, she couldn't imagine giving up their child or terminating the pregnancy, even if it meant she had to raise the baby by herself.

He nodded and didn't say anything at first. If she still knew him as well as she thought she did, he wanted the baby too. "The baby's definitely mine?" he asked.

Ivy cringed at the idea that he would think otherwise. "Of course. You're the only one I've been with in years." Her voice lowered. "And the only one I've wanted."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

She let the sting of his words roll off her. "I suppose I deserve that after what happened."

"I'm being harsh. I should've heard you out at the beach. I know you're not—" he didn't finish his sentence, but the rest was implied. He still knew her well, too.

He'd been her first and only lover, with the exception of the rare occasions when she'd slept with Julian over the years when the loneliness had become unbearable and she decided she wanted more children. You would've been my only lover if I'd stayed with you after my wedding night to Julian. She bowed her head. That mistake was destined to haunt her for the rest of her life. There was no doubt in Ivy's mind that they'd still be together if she'd been strong enough to stay with him back then; they'd been so devoted to each other, and they'd only ever been tempted to betray their spouses with each other.

Sam's voice broke through her thoughts as he tried to turn the conversation to something more comfortable. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

Ivy rested a hand on her belly without thinking about it. "I'm well. Some morning sickness, that's all. At the appointment where I got the sonogram picture, the doctor said the baby looks healthy and she's developing as expected."

"That's good," Sam said. He paused and looked at his hands. "I want the baby too. I came here to say I want to be involved in our child's life. I never got to see Ethan grow up and I don't want that to happen again."

"I don't want that to happen again either," Ivy said. "I said it in the letter and I meant it—I'd love for you to be part of her life. I'd never stand in the way of you having a relationship with her."

"Good. My love, attention, money . . . whatever she needs, she'll have it."

"Thank you for being so understanding."

He shrugged slightly. "You didn't get pregnant by yourself. This is my responsibility too."

A thought popped into her head. "How does Grace feel about all of this?"

His expression darkened at the mention of Grace's name. "It's not her problem anymore. We're getting divorced. It should be final in a few days."

"Oh," Ivy said. She wanted to add that she was sorry to hear it, but she held her tongue, thinking he would doubt her sincerity. If she was honest with herself, maybe she wasn't completely sorry to hear it. Whatever the case, it wouldn't change how she was going about her new life in Boston. She did wonder what had happened, though.

Sam's next words answered her unspoken question. "Grace saw us the night we were together. She came to the station to talk to me and found us in bed."

"Why didn't we see her?"

"She ran way because she was too upset to confront us. We were so wrapped up in each other we didn't notice her."

Ivy lowed her head. She did feel sorry about that. She hadn't really wanted to hurt Grace; Grace just happened to be collateral damage in her plans to get Sam back. "I'm sorry."

"She confronted me when I went to see her at Tabitha's the next morning. I was going to tell her what happened and beg her to forgive me. Maybe I wouldn't have been strong enough to tell her the truth anyway, I don't know, but that didn't matter. She already knew. No matter how much I apologized, she said it was too much to forgive." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess it's for the best. We wouldn't have lasted with the trust gone in our marriage. I don't know what I'll do without her, though."

Ivy could only manage to nod.

They talked for a little while longer about the baby and Sam looked at his watch. "Well, I should get going. I need to get back to Harmony."

"Of course." Ivy stood to walk him to the door.

Sam slowed down and eyed the stairs when they reached the foyer. "Your bedroom's upstairs?"

"Yes," Ivy said, confused by the question. The house was three stories all together, with bedrooms on the second and third floors. Ivy's was on the second. She didn't see why he'd care where her bedroom was, especially since he seemed to still be hurting over his marriage ending.

"I don't want you to use the stairs when you're here by yourself. Is there a bedroom you can use downstairs?"

"There's an office that's most empty, but I really—"

He moved closer to her, the look on his face pleading. "Please. I don't want anything to happen to you or the baby."

Ivy remembered Grace's accident at Ethan and Theresa's engagement party and swallowed her protests. As usual, she couldn't say no to him. "Okay, but my stuff is upstairs." Sam agreed to help her get the things she'd need for the night and bring them downstairs. Tomorrow, she would ask some of her staff to help her set up a temporary bedroom in the office. His gentle touch on her back as they walked up the stairs was enough to make her want to lean against him. Stop it. Just because he's getting divorced doesn't mean he wants you again. He's still upset about losing Grace. She knew she didn't want his affection anyway, unless he'd admit his feelings for her first—it would be excruciating otherwise. She steeled herself and focused on gathering up clothes, toiletries, and bedding.

Ivy told Sam the house had an elevator too, but it wasn't working. She knew there was an issue with it when she bought the house, but she didn't think it was important since she normally used the stairs. She'd planned on having it repaired later. Sam offered to come by another time and help her fix it, or help her find a contactor if the problem wasn't something simple.

They prepared the couch in the living room for her to sleep on. "I want to be here for our child, but I want to be here for you too," Sam said.

Ivy paused with her hand on a pillow. She wanted that as well, but it would be hard to accept when it hurt to have him close. "I don't know . . ."

"You're living by yourself and you're older now. This pregnancy could be harder for you than your other ones. You shouldn't have to be alone through that."

On the other hand, it would be nice to have him around to help her, like he was now. "That would be good. Thanks," she said. When they exchanged cell phone numbers before he left, Ivy wondered why they'd never done so before. Then she realized that her getting her hands on his personal phone number when she'd been pursuing him was probably the last thing he'd wanted. How things changed.

Sam called Ivy and asked if he could come by her house one morning a week later. When he arrived, he had bags full of gifts for the baby with him. Ivy was no longer having morning sickness, and the sight of the clothes and toys improved her mood even more. "It was nice of you to bring these," she said.

"There's plenty more to come, but I thought this was a start." They sat down in the kitchen so she could look at what he brought. At the table, he picked up a onesie with a mermaid on the front and laid it on the stack of other baby clothes. Ivy saw the mermaid too and couldn't stop herself from thinking about how they met. He used to call her his sea siren. "Have you picked out a room for her yet?" Sam's voice brought her back to the present.

"I know which one I want to use for her, but I haven't done anything with it yet."

"Will you show me?"

Ivy got a basket to put the baby things in and they went upstairs. "I figured this one would be good since it's next to mine," she said, sitting the basket down in a corner of the room.

They made a list of things they needed for the baby and talked about how they could decorate the room. "Pick out a color and I'll help you paint soon," he said. Ivy started running through colors in her head. A pale yellow might be nice.

"Sam, I still need to tell Ethan about the baby," she said later when they were going downstairs. "Will you talk to him with me?"

"Sure. It seems right for us to tell him together." He took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly. She told herself he was just making sure she was steady as she navigated the steps. When they reached the landing, Sam let go of her hand and asked if she wanted him to take a look at the elevator.

"That would be great, but please be careful." They walked past Ivy's office/bedroom on their way to the elevator. "I've got a flashlight in here. Hold on and I'll get it," she said.

She found the flashlight in her nightstand and saw him taking in the room when she walked back to him. "What's all that?" he asked, gesturing to one area of the room. A desk sitting against a wall had an industrial sewing machine, sketchbooks, and a container of charcoal pencils, regular pencils, and markers on it. Binders filled several cubbies above the desk. A table next to the desk held rolls of fabric and a large sewing basket. A dressmaker's mannequin stood in the corner on the other side of the desk, displaying the beginnings of a purple, knee-length dress.

"Oh, that's some stuff for my business. I was going to the office, but it's easier to work at home now since I'm pregnant."

"Your business?"

"Yes. I started my own fashion line. It's just getting off the ground, but it's doing well so far." She nodded at the desk. "I have some other clothing designers working for me, but I design and make a lot of my own products."

"I had no idea."

"It's something I've wanted to do for a long time. I never could when I was married."

"Because Julian and Alistair wouldn't let you?"

"Yeah," she said, a wistful note in her voice. Even before that, her parents hadn't approved. They told her sewing was for the help, not debutantes. Ivy hadn't cared what they said, though; for years, she'd snuck down to the maid's quarters at the governor's mansion for sewing lessons.

"Wait a second," Sam said as a memory returned. "That shirt you gave me for my birthday a long time ago . . . you made it?"

Ivy remembered the hours of careful work she'd put in to make sure everything—the feel and color of the fabric, the placement of the buttons, the quality of the stitching—was perfect. "I thought I told you I did," she said.

"You did, but I guess I figured you were joking or trying to pull one over on me."

"No. I made it." She smiled. "You know, you were the first person other than me to wear my designs."

"Well, I think it's great you can follow your dream now." Sam said. "If your other designs are anything like that shirt, you're going to be a success."

"Thank you." She handed him the flashlight and couldn't help thinking of another dream she'd held in her heart for many years when their hands briefly brushed. She pulled her hand away and looked to the mannequin. "We'll see how this dress turns out. I should get back to it. I'll be in here. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help you."

Sam couldn't figure out what was wrong with the elevator, so Ivy arranged to have a contractor come out to look at it. Before Sam left that day, Ivy called Ethan and made plans to meet him for lunch the following week. They agreed on a restaurant that was between Harmony and Boston.

On the day of the lunch, Ivy noticed Ethan hesitate when he walked in the restaurant and saw her and Sam sitting together. Then he caught himself and made his way over to their table. "Hi, Mother." Ivy halfway rose from her seat and he kissed her cheek. Sam stood up and he and Ethan hugged. "Hi, Sam. I didn't realize you'd be here too."

They all sat down and Ivy gathered her courage. "We both wanted to talk to you. There's something important you should know." Their server came over to take their drink orders then. When he was gone, Ethan jumped in. "I think I know what you want to tell me. You two are back together."

Ivy loved her son very much, but his habit of trying to guess what other people were going to say could be annoying. "No, dear," she said.

"Then you're thinking about getting back together."

Sam cleared his throat. "No. Not that either."

Their server returned with their drinks, so they paused their conversation. "Are you ready to order?" he asked.

"We'll need a few minutes," Sam said.

More than a few. When the server left again, they explained that Ivy was pregnant and Sam was the father.

Ethan was speechless for a long time. "I don't know what to say . . . congratulations," he eventually said. The expression on his face grew hopeful. "There's really no way you might reconcile? I mean with the baby and all?" He looked down at his hands. "I'm sorry. I probably sound ridiculous. I guess every kid wants to see their parents together and happy."

Ivy exchanged a glance with Sam. She said, "I don't think so," at the same time he said, "It's complicated."

Ivy couldn't help herself from wondering if 'complicated' meant there was a chance they could be together again one day, and quickly made herself drop that line of thought. "Right now, we're focusing on making sure the baby will be happy and healthy and know both of her parents."

Ethan warmed up to the idea of having a little sister over lunch. "How far along are you?" he asked Ivy.

"Three and a half months."

"You're going to cause quite a stir at the wedding."

The wedding. The changes in Ivy's own life had made her put Ethan and Theresa's wedding to the back of her mind. They were getting married in two months. Ivy could only smile in response to Ethan's observation. "Let them talk. I don't care."

October 2001

During the next weeks, Ivy threw herself into her work, helping Theresa with wedding arrangements, and caring for her pregnancy. She still had a few loose ends from Harmony to tie up, though. Before her move, Ivy had hired a private investigator to find out who sent the information about Ethan's paternity to the tabloid. The PI followed up occasionally with updates but he hadn't found any answers so far. When Ivy got a call from him one morning when she was four months pregnant, she figured it would be more of the same. She was wrong.

"Ms. Winthrop, I found out who sent the e-mail to the tabloid," he said.

Ivy shot up from the chair she was sitting in. "Who?"

"Rebecca and Gwen Hotchkiss."

"What?" she cried and nearly dropped the phone.

He went on to say he wanted to be absolutely sure he was right, and that was why the investigation had taken so long. "I caught a break when I was reviewing video from the cameras around the Crane mansion. The Cranes were cooperative in turning it over, but I had to go through weeks of tape before I found anything. It was sent from Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald's e-mail account, but Mrs. Hotchkiss is on video sending it."

It made sense the longer she thought about it. Pilar had been suspicious of them from the start, saying they believed Theresa was after Ethan for his money and they probably hoped Theresa would dump Ethan when she found out he wasn't a Crane. Ivy had caught Rebecca snooping around her bedroom more than once when Theresa's laptop was there. Rebecca and Gwen had recovered awfully fast from the news that Ethan wanted to marry Theresa. They also seemed inexplicably smug about something around the time the secret came out.

The PI arrived at Ivy's house with the tape an hour later. Ivy watched and listened as Rebecca stood in foyer, waving around a floppy disk before heading upstairs, presumably to Ivy's room and the laptop. She continued watching when, a few days later, Rebecca sat in the living room and sent the e-mail from the laptop, gloating with Gwen about their plan.

Her face pale with anger, Ivy thanked the PI and wrote him a large check. He left her with the tape. Once she was alone, Ivy decided it would be better for her blood pressure if she took some time to yell and release her anger instead of keeping it inside.

"Those bitches! How stupid can you be? Don't they realize Alistair has surveillance at the mansion?" She'd learned this lesson herself many years before. She'd gotten good at avoiding the downstairs cameras and keeping private conversations quiet, but even she had started to slip up in her desperation to get Sam back during her last years as a Crane, kissing him under the mistletoe the Christmas before last and saying things within range of the cameras and microphones that she shouldn't have.

How dare Rebecca and Gwen take advantage of her trust and let something so personal be revealed in such a public and embarrassing way. "Damn them for the pain they caused me, Ethan, and Sam, even Julian too," Ivy spat.

Looking down at her hands, she saw the remnants of a throw pillow that she couldn't remember picking up, now a mess of torn linen and stuffing. She hastily laid it down on the couch and sat next to it. What could she do to hurt Rebecca and Gwen as much as they'd hurt her and the people she cared about?

It didn't take her long to realize that they deserved to be exposed in the same way she'd been exposed. She looked up the number for the tabloid and dialed. When she finished with that call, she called Ethan. He was as shocked and angry as Ivy when she told him the news. All they could manage to say to each other was how grateful they were that he'd found the right woman to love. Ethan asked her what she thought they should do about Rebecca and Gwen. "Don't worry, darling. I've taken care of it," Ivy assured him, her lips curling wickedly.

Ivy made one more call, this time to Sam, after she hung up with Ethan. "Can you come over later? I know who told the tabloid Ethan is our son." Sam said he'd be over in a few hours. He seemed concerned about her when he got to the townhouse, but Ivy had calmed down, and she'd stashed the throw pillow in a closet until she decided whether to try to fix it or throw it out. She was still beating herself up for trusting Gwen and Rebecca, though.

"Don't blame yourself," he said after she told him everything. "You've known them for years and they were practically part of your family. The important thing is you know who they really are. They're out of your and Ethan's lives now."

"Yeah." Ivy thanked him for coming all the way from Harmony. "I thought you deserved to hear about this in person."

"It wasn't a problem. I was actually in Boston already." Sam told her he'd been at one of the Boston P.D. offices, signing paperwork and meeting with people. "They offered me a job as a district captain. I'll be moving here soon." Ivy took in a sharp breath and tried to hide her elation. Sam said he had already signed a lease on an apartment about a mile and a half from Ivy's place. "I've been thinking of leaving Harmony for a while. It seemed like the perfect opportunity when I got the call asking me to come in for an interview. It'll be easier for me to be around for the baby, too."

You'll be closer to her . . . and me. Ivy couldn't say which part of that made her happier.

Ivy had bought paint and painting supplies for the baby's room, so Sam agreed to stay and help her paint. They talked throughout their work about their children, their new jobs, and their hopes that they would have better lives in Boston. When they were almost done, Ivy looked at the clock and was surprised to see it was getting late. Time always passes quickly when we're enjoying it together.

"Sam, can I buy you dinner as a thank you for your help today?" she asked.

"Thanks, but you don't have to. I told you I want to be here for the baby. That includes getting a room ready for her."

"It's the least I can do," she said. The other reasons why she wanted him to stay for dinner, she refused to think about. "We both need to eat. I was thinking lobster—I crave it when I'm pregnant."

He chuckled. "You always did have expensive taste."

"Not always, just most of the time," she conceded with a sheepish grin. She met his eyes. "I figure it can't hurt within reason when I have the money." Then she added, "But I will say I've learned the hard way that happiness and love are more important than wealth."

Sam nodded in acknowledgement and looked away as he digested her words. "All right. Lobster sounds great." He gestured to his clothes. They were both in causal, paint splattered clothes. "We're not exactly dressed for a formal dinner, though."

"That's okay. I'll get it delivered here." She called in their order, and they talked more while they waited for their food and over dinners of lobster, potatoes, and asparagus.

She clutched her fork a little tighter when he brought up a memory of other, less fancy dinners they'd shared. "The food wasn't as good then, but we didn't care."
"No, we were too young to mind it," Ivy agreed. The quality of the food hadn't been as important as the company they kept. Looking into his eyes briefly, she knew that was still the case, at least for her. "That was wonderful," she said when they were done eating. "Just what I and the baby needed."

"It was very good. Thank you for dinner." Sam insisted on cleaning up while Ivy relaxed in her chair at the table. After the dishes were in the dishwasher and he took out the trash, he walked over to her. "Speaking of the baby, would you mind if I talked to her?"

"No, I don't mind."

So he knelt in front of her and put a hand on either side of the gentle curve of her belly. "Hey, sweetheart," he said to her midsection. "It's getting late and I'm going home in a little while, but I'll see you again soon. You and your mom take good care of each other until I'm back, all right? Enjoy that lobster dinner—next time I'm buying and I'll get you as many as you want. I love you."

Ivy turned her head away as Sam spoke so he wouldn't see the gamut of emotions traveling over her face. You're going to be a wonderful father to our daughter. Will you ever say words of love to me like you are to her?

But Sam did catch a glimpse of her expression. He'd been caressing her belly as he continued to talk to the baby, but his hands stopped moving then. "What's wrong, Ivy?"

She shook her head and made herself smile. "It's nothing. It was touching to hear you talk to our baby, and my emotions are all over the place these days with the changes in my hormones."

He rubbed her belly one more time before he stood up, but this time she wasn't sure if it was meant to comfort her or the baby. "You're sure that's all?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay. Well, take it easy. I'll give you a call this weekend and we can figure out a time when we can work on the baby's room more."

"That sounds good."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Sam."

When she heard the front door close, Ivy put both of her hands on the spot where Sam's hand had last been. "Oh, sweet baby, it might be a pipe dream, but I can't stop wishing for a day when your dad will say he loves us both," she whispered.