"Yeah, okay…one of us’ll be right there," Scotty Valens said reluctantly, then replaced the phone in its cradle with a wry smile and a shake of his head.

A few feet away, Kat Miller glanced up from her own desk and arched a brow. "Do I even wanna know what that was about?" she asked him over the rim of her coffee mug.

Scotty’s grin broadened, and he chuckled slightly. "That was the daycare again," he informed her with mock cheerfulness. "Seems your daughter’s got a bit of a bitin’ problem."

"Biting?" Kat repeated with a frown as she lowered the mug to her desk. "She’s biting again? I thought we got over that. And anyway, she’s your daughter."

"No dice, Miller," Scotty argued jovially. "Punchin’ and kickin’? I’ll own up to givin’ her that. But the bitin’…that’s yours. Your moms said Veronica did the same thing when she was that age." He arched a brow, his eyes twinkling mischievously and his voice taking on a decidedly teasing tone, then added, "You too, come to that."

Kat shot him a brief glare, then shook her head, knowing from experience that there was no point in arguing with him. "Terrible twos," she said softly. "Thought I was done with that a decade ago."

Scotty felt a wave of love wash over him as he glanced at the silver-framed photo of his daughter that graced a corner of his desk. "Aw, they ain’t so bad," he replied, almost wistfully. "Besides, she’s so cute when she’s sleepin’."

"Now that, I’ll take credit for," Kat grinned, took a sip of coffee, then turned her attention back to Scotty. "So…you gonna go see about her?"

Scotty shook his head. "We been over this, Miller. She punches or kicks, I go deal with it. But the bitin’…that’s your department."

Kat sighed in defeat, wishing she could fight him on it, but well aware that it would be futile. They did have a deal…and, she was forced to admit, the biting was decidedly her genetic material.

Rising from her desk, she shot Scotty a brief glare. "You’re such a jackass," she informed him, feeling the silent mockery of a familiar smug grin following her as she grabbed her jacket and left the room.

With a quiet, yet triumphant chuckle, Scotty went back to filling out the report from his most recent interview (one related to the 2009 murder of a man, Elliot King, whose sole reason for existence seemed to be incessant, and frequently hostile, participation in online Battlestar Galactica forums), only to be interrupted once more by soft, echoing laughter to his left. Glancing up, he saw his partner, Lilly Rush, leaning on the desk and studying him with the utmost amusement, her blue eyes twinkling merrily.

"What?" he asked her suspiciously.

Lilly’s smile was broad and dazzling. "You…as a dad," she said, with just a touch of affectionate pride. "Never thought I’d see it, Scotty." She paused, chuckled slightly, and took a sip of her coffee. "And sure as hell not with Miller."

"Yeah, I don’t think any of us saw that comin’," Nick Vera piped up from the other side of Lilly, where he’d just come back from the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee and a donut.

"Look, I’m not…with Miller," Scotty protested. "You all know that."

Lilly quirked a brow at him. "None of us said you were," she pointed out.

"So…if you’re not together, then that baby’s…what? Just for fun?" Will Jeffries argued cheerfully from his spot a few feet away, where he’d been participating in the goings-on via his usual silent, but deft, observation.

Scotty shot his colleagues a brief glare, hoping that would shut them up, then attempted, once more, to return to the interview report. Paperwork took enough time out of his life, even without all these ridiculous interruptions.

"You never did tell us how that happened, y’know," Lilly said casually, with a searching look in Scotty’s direction.

Scotty’s expression was guarded as he glanced up at her. "Nothin’ to tell," he shot back, his voice low with warning.

"Uh-huh," his undaunted partner retorted. "You had sex. With Miller. There’s definitely somethin’ to tell."

"I ain’t been able to get a word outta her for over three years," Vera added. "And you’re way easier than she is, anyway. So spill. We got a bet ridin’ on this."

Lowering his pen to the desk, Scotty sighed and rolled his eyes. Of course those insufferable ass clowns had a bet riding on this. There was always a bet riding on something…but usually, he was on the betting end of it.

"Look," he began, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence and self-defense, "it ain’t somethin’ I’m proud of, okay? It was just that one time, and we ain’t together now," he said with a pointed glance at Lilly, "just raisin’ our daughter the best we can, so…back off and go find somethin’ else to do, okay? Like…I dunno…your jobs? ‘People shouldn’t be forgotten’ and all that?" he finished, glancing up at his partner once again.

Lilly merely shrugged, and Scotty could tell that his entreaties, convincing as they were, had fallen on deaf ears.

"Job’s been cold for two years, Scotty," Vera pointed out, an eager gleam in his hazel eyes that had nothing to do with the case. "I don’t think a ten-minute delay’ll hurt anything."

Scotty glanced over at Jeffries, only to find his older colleague smiling jovially, his eyes twinkling with merriment, and he knew he wasn’t getting any assistance from that direction, either.

"Lil?" Scotty asked helplessly, casting himself at the mercy of his last line of defense. Surely she, out of all of them, would have her priorities in order.

To his dismay, and his utter chagrin, she just smiled, shrugged again, and made no move toward the evidence boxes stacked on her desk.

"I do love a good story," she pressed, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Scotty was nonplussed. "Miller’ll kill me," he protested helplessly. "She’ll tear my arms off and beat me to death with ‘em."

"Oh, don’t worry," Jeffries encouraged. "We won’t breathe a word."

"Yeah," Vera agreed eagerly around a mouthful of his donut. "We can keep secrets."

Scotty looked around at the keen, shining eyes of his colleagues, realized the game was up, and sighed in defeat.

"Fine," he agreed, without enthusiasm. "But if she finds out I told you? I’m sendin’ her after your asses, not mine." He punctuated his declaration with emphatic hand gestures, and his colleagues all nodded.

With another reluctant sigh, Scotty leaned back in his chair and began his sordid tale. "Remember the time I bailed her outta that blind date?"

It had been a typical night at the office, working late on a case, nothing to write home about. He and Lil had just identified a new suspect when the phone rang. Stillman had answered it, then, the confusion obvious in his voice, informed them that it was Miller.

"But she’s pretendin’ to be someone else," he’d continued, a look of utter mystification etched across his face. "Sounds drunk."

With a sigh, Scotty had realized, before the boss even said anything else, that he’d be summoned to whatever fancy-ass restaurant Kat had no doubt called him from, and sure enough, half an hour later, here he was, shutting his car door and looking over at his colleague expectantly.

"I woulda called a cab," she slurred by way of explanation, with an apologetic glance in his direction, "but I was late…left the house without my wallet."

"So what’s wrong with the guy?" Scotty asked. He’d bailed a couple of his cousins out of bad blind dates more times than he could count…but he never expected to have to do it for Miller. Lil, maybe, but not Miller. Not in a million years.

"Nothing," she answered quickly, with a shake of her head. "Good looking…manners…bought a nice bottle of wine," she whispered, before reluctantly, and a bit sheepishly, admitting the truth. "I just…drank half of it before the calamari came."

"Well, you were nervous," Scotty shrugged. "It’s a rookie mistake."

Kat’s eyes closed in a seeming attempt to hide from the mess her evening had become. "I don’t have the time or the energy for the game. Bring on the sweatpants," she declared, her voice laden with uncharacteristic weariness and a hint of…was that…defeat? From Miller? For two days, he’d dealt with her reluctance, her trepidation, her outright fear of this damn blind date, and all those things had already surprised him more than he’d ever thought possible…but her just---just giving up like that was something he never, in his wildest imagination, thought he’d hear from her. Good God, he mused silently, what the hell was in that wine?

Despite his experience with his cousins, Scotty had no idea what to do with this one. Kat Miller was the toughest badass he knew, though he’d rue the day he ever admitted that to her, yet she’d called him to bail her out, and now this…this defeat, this surrender, this depthless exasperated fatigue with the world and everyone in it…from her? He hadn’t a clue how to handle it. Quickly, he found something else to fixate on while he frantically wracked his brain for a response.

"You…say goodbye to him, or just…go to the bathroom and never come back?" he asked, and the look on Kat’s face told him all he needed to know.

"Oh, that’s cold, man," he said with a grin, his utter bewilderment fading, momentarily, into a deep sympathy for whoever this mystery guy was. This sort of thing had never happened to him, of course, mainly because he didn’t do blind dates, but…he could imagine. And, dammit, he had to step up to the plate for his species.

"You gotta call him tomorrow," Scotty informed her. "All right? Make up some kinda…work emergency…" he continued, but then trailed off, realizing, with chagrin, that she was shaking her head before he’d even finished his sentence.

"Mm-mm," Kat refused. "I’m not calling him. This was a one-shot deal. One and done," she declared, punctuating her words with emphatic hand gestures.

Crap. She was still defeated. She was still down on herself. She was still giving up. And, dammit, he wasn’t going to let her. Not tonight. Not on this.

"Aw, c’mon, Kat," he protested encouragingly. "You gotta get back in the game."

His colleague sighed heavily and shook her head again. "Got no game, baby," she informed him, her voice dull, tired…and, he noticed with a pang, more than a little sad. "Game over."

In that moment, all the layers fell away, all her bravado and badassery and all the other things she tried to hide behind, and as he glanced her direction once more, taking in her hair, her makeup, her dress, those freshly-polished nails he’d teased her about earlier…he suddenly realized that, badass or not, Kat Miller was a woman. A woman. In every sense of the word. This brought with it a plethora of chaotic thoughts, and he quickly shoved away all but the most promising. Women, he mused silently…women, he could handle. He didn’t begin to understand them, of course, and the more experience he got with them, the more he realized that was true…but he did know what made them tick. And in a flash of inspiration, he knew exactly what to say to this one.

"Shame," he shrugged casually. "You’re still a…pretty good catch."

She looked up at him, her dark eyes wide and infinitely, endearingly trusting. "Yeah?" she replied.

"I’m just sayin’," he continued, still trying desperately to wrap his mind around the fact that Kat Miller, Homicide’s official ass-kicker, now sat next to him, drunk, dressed-up, and vulnerable, her surprisingly fragile emotional state suddenly, inexplicably, in his hands. "You…deserve more," he declared, his voice and expression earnest, hoping she was absorbing the truth as much as he suddenly was. She did deserve more. She really did.

"Damn straight," she agreed quickly, her glazed eyes flashing with just a glimmer of the Kat he knew, and he felt a surge of relieved triumph as he hastily seized the moment.

"Lousy-ass cop, though," he added with a grin.

Scotty’s joy at the return of the badass was quickly replaced by a shock, and pain, that stole his breath. Until that point, he’d had absolutely no idea how hard Kat could hit, and he had absolutely no desire to be on the receiving end of it ever again.

"Take me home before I puke all over your car," she ordered.

Scotty tried, in vain, to hide his grimace. "You got it," he replied, turning the key in the ignition and pulling the car away from the curb.

***

"This is me," Kat announced with a matter-of-fact, though slightly sheepish, shrug. She got out of the car and started to close the door, but then hesitated. Leaning on the door, she peered at Scotty, seemingly weighing her options, before arching a brow, making a face, and then shrugging again. "You…wanna come up?" she finally asked, her voice light.

Scotty blinked in surprise, then chuckled. "Okay, now I know you’re drunk," he declared with a grin.

"I’m serious," she said, and something in her tone gave him pause. It definitely wasn’t her usual bad-ass snark, but it also wasn’t the heavy sense of defeat he’d heard earlier…no, it was something else. Something he couldn’t quite identify.

He supposed he must’ve sat there blinking cluelessly at her for quite some time, because she rolled her eyes slightly and then fixed her attention on the floormats. "Veronica’s spendin’ the night with my mom," she explained reluctantly, "I’m still supposed to be on this date, and…" she trailed off with obvious discomfort.

"And what?" Scotty inquired with a quizzical glance, not at all sure where she was going with this.

Her dark eyes shot as many sparks as they could muster. "Don’t make me say it," she ordered.

"Say what?" he asked, and he could tell by her expression that she knew he truly didn’t have a clue.

Kat sighed heavily and looked at the floorboards again. "I just…don’t wanna be alone tonight," she finished lamely, then glanced up, the look in her dark eyes almost embarrassed, "…and…I could really use a friend. Just…just for a little bit."

A lopsided grin lifted one corner of Scotty’s mouth as he killed the motor and removed his keys from the ignition.

"Well, I guess I could come up for a while," he said with a shrug. "Ain’t got much at home to look forward to, that’s for sure." At this, Kat smiled, not quite able to hide her relief, and the awkwardness between them instantly dissolved.

"What, you ain’t hate bangin’ anyone these days?" she asked teasingly as Scotty climbed from the car, and he tossed a friendly glare in her direction, even as his brain struggled frantically to keep up with the change in her demeanor. It seemed that the mere promise of his presence, even for just a little while, had lifted the remaining clouds of her mood, and she was back to her old self once more. Still, it was at his expense, and he was instantly on the defensive.

"I haven’t gone out in, like, a year," he protested, shutting the door with a bit more force than necessary.

"Uh-huh," Kat replied with a smile as she shut her own door and started up the walk, the skittering of the dry leaves adding a counterpoint to the staccato rhythm of her high heels.

"Hey, I’m serious, Miller," Scotty insisted as he followed her, completely unsure why it was all of a sudden so important that she believe him on this. "Not even a drink with a woman since Alex."

Kat chuckled softly as she climbed the steps to the front door of her building, and Scotty found himself suddenly dying of curiosity.

"What the hell’s that supposed to mean?" he demanded as he reached the top step.

She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with a hint of triumphant amusement. "Least I’m out there," she said.

Scotty laughed aloud as he watched her repeated, fumbling attempts to put the key in the lock.

"I dunno if I call downin’ half a bottle of wine and then runnin’ out on the guy bein’ ‘out there,’" he argued, as he gently removed the keys from Kat’s hand and, ignoring her childishly petulant eye-roll, inserted them into the lock himself.

"Hey," she protested, hands on her hips. "I’m wearin’ a dress, okay? Makeup, hair, nails, the works." She raked her eyes over him from head to toe. "You…your sorry ass hasn’t seen the outside of the office for months," she pointed out.

"Fine," he conceded with a shrug, unwilling to admit just how irritating it was that she’d not only guessed the truth, but that there was such a pathetic, lame-ass truth for her to guess at in the first place. "I ain’t out there. And you can talk up the dress and the makeup and the nails all you want…" he continued, desperate to salvage anything that might possibly remain of a victory, "but that don’t change the fact that you’re here, with me, insteada out havin’ dinner with that guy."

Kat glared at him for a moment, then turned abruptly and stormed up the stairs. Scotty knew from experience that she was fuming inwardly, searching her addled brain for a typical snarky comeback, and the fact that she was physically removing herself from the situation told him that she was simply unable to come up with one. This, he decided with a proud grin as he followed her up the stairs, he’d place solidly in the win column.

When they reached her apartment, she tossed her keys on the table, where they landed amid a pile of bills, empty cups from Starbucks, and a haphazard stack of what looked to be Veronica’s homework, then kicked off her shoes and stormed to the small kitchen, where she reached up into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon and two glasses.

"More booze?" Scotty asked, arching an incredulous brow as he stripped off his tie and tossed it on the back of the couch.

Kat looked pointedly at him as she poured the bourbon. "I may be drunk, but I ain’t drunk enough," she announced. "And if I’m drinkin’, you’re drinkin’ with me, ‘cause no way in hell am I lettin’ you be the sober one. I don’t trust you," she informed him. "Besides, I’ve already spilled enough of my guts to your sorry ass tonight," she continued, half under her breath.

Scotty shrugged and undid a couple of his shirt buttons. It had been a while since he’d been drunk, really and truly drunk. The last time he’d gotten completely blitzed was the night they’d come back from West Virginia after arresting that psychopathic serial killer, and, he realized, it was high time again. Drinking alone to drown one’s sorrows had long ago lost its luster…but drinking with a friend for no particular reason? That had some appeal.

"Fair enough," he agreed, moving a pile of clean, but unfolded laundry to a neighboring chair and lowering himself to the sofa. She thrust a glass in his direction, and he took it, meeting her determined look with an amused one of his own. "What should we drink to?" he asked.

Kat thought for a moment, then settled onto the couch next to him and lifted her drink. "To sweatpants," she said with a wry grin.

Scotty nodded, smiled, and clinked his glass against hers before tossing the burning amber liquid down his throat.

Chapter Two

You or Your Memory

March, 2011

Vera sighed in disgust.  “So you got drunk and had sex,” he griped as he rummaged through his desk drawer, pulled out a stack of bills, and grudgingly held it out to Lilly, who snatched it out of his hand with a triumphant snap of her wrist.  “Big freakin’ deal. Oldest story in the book,” he continued, casting Scotty an annoyed glance, making it clear that he’d expected a far more interesting story. “Not to mention the least original.”

“Oh, you’re just jealous that the simplest, most logical, conclusion is usually the right one,” Lilly tossed in Vera’s direction, grinning mischievously as she pocketed the cash.

“Like, oh, I dunno, the fact that Saccardo’s addiction to appletinis and girly coffee meant way more than you thought?” Vera teased.

“You…really didn’t know his ‘undercover assignment’ was a gay cruise, Lil?” Jeffries asked gently, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the memory.

As her colleagues stifled their laughter, Lilly shot them a friendly glare.  “Hey, I figured it out eventually,” she protested mildly. “But I won this bet, so we’re even,” she concluded, illustrating the point by patting the pocket of her shirt, where her winnings lay snugly nestled.

“Drunk sex…” Jeffries mused, leaning back in his chair and lacing his arms behind his head. “You’d think that woulda been your guess, Nick,” he finished, as another teasing smile crept across his face.

Vera didn’t say anything, just glared briefly at Jeffries and returned his eyes to the paperwork.

“Sure have enough experience with it, Nicky,” Scotty added, grateful that, for the moment anyway, the squad’s attention was momentarily diverted from his sordid tale.

“Oh, bite me,” Vera retorted, turning his glare in Scotty’s direction. “Didn’t have to get Toni drunk.”

“No,” Scotty shot back with a darkly teasing grin, “you just had to buy her son a new basketball, then make puppy dog eyes at her and grovel your ass off.”Vera shrugged.

“Whatever, man, it worked. Five years and still goin’ strong.  Helluva lot better than anyone else around here’s doin’,” he pointed out, looking around at his colleagues with a proud smirk. Lilly and Scotty exchanged a glance, and Lilly conceded the argument with a flick of a brow and a casual shrug.

“So...” Jeffries continued, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he looked toward Scotty and returned the conversation to its original topic. “You and Miller got drunk and had sex. Anything else you feel like sharin’ with the rest of us?”

At that, Scotty felt a fiery irritation starting to rise within his chest. Personal matters were just that. Personal. And Will Jeffries, of all people, should know that. Yes, Scotty had screwed up, yes, he’d made yet another terrible mistake, yes, he’d, by default, put his personal life out on display by stupidly, and permanently, allowing it to mingle with his work life…but he’d be damned if he let his nosy, obnoxious co-workers turn it into sport any more than they apparently already had.

“Nah,” he replied as lightly as he could, though he hoped his colleagues would pick up on the undercurrent of annoyance in his voice.

Of course, they didn’t. Or, if they did, they chose to ignore it.

“Aw, c’mon,” Vera pressed eagerly. “Surely you can tell us somethin’.” He leaned forward, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. “What’s she like when she’s drunk, huh? Obviously she’s a helluva lot more fun than she is when she’s sober…”

Scotty looked up, his jaw clenching and his eyes flashing fire, and, in a split second, Lilly read his expression, as he knew she would. Lil could practically read his mind, had been able to since day one, and although there were times when that ability of hers annoyed the crap out of him, there were other times, like now, when he found himself eternally grateful for it.

After a brief glance that was simultaneously searching and understanding, Lilly’s eyes quickly left his and focused instead on their irritating co-worker.“Leave it alone, Nick,” she instructed as she gathered up some files from her desk, her voice soft, but firm. “He told us how it happened. You got what you wanted to know.”

“Well, yeah,” Vera conceded petulantly, “but he left out all the good parts.” He smirked at Scotty, the expression obnoxious, almost leering, and Scotty was preparing a scathing, profanity-laced retort when Lilly beat him to the punch.

“Nick,” she continued, with a sharpness they didn’t usually hear from her outside the interview room, and one that commanded Vera’s instant attention. “She’s your friend. Your co-worker. You’ve known her for five years, and you didn’t get detail one out of her. That should say something to you. Yeah, we’re detectives, but there are some things even we don’t need to know.”

Vera rolled his eyes and sighed in defeat, and Scotty shot Lilly a brief glance of thanks, which she returned with a smile, then tossed a folder on Vera’s desk.

“Got a lead on the King job,” she told him. “Looks like one of those cyber-stalker types…Lucy somethin’ or other. You in?” she asked.

Vera perused the documents, then closed the folder abruptly with a shake of his head. “No way,” he declared, glancing up at Lilly and handing the file back to her. “Chick sounds batshit crazy. I got enough problems.”

“C’mon, Nick,” she pressed lightly, flashing him a winning smile. “I’ll buy you a donut.”

“Already had one,” he groused with a smirk.

“We’ll swing by Krispy Kreme,” Lilly continued, leaning over his desk and practically purring the name of the donut shop into his ear.

Vera paused, struggling mightily with the decision, and finally sighed and pushed his chair back from the desk. “Fine,” he acquiesced reluctantly, and the two departed shortly thereafter.

With a soft chuckle, Jeffries rose from his desk and headed toward the interview room. “Got another crazed Battlestar Galactica fan in there,” he informed his colleague, then paused, tapping his notes on Scotty’s desk, and Scotty glanced up suspiciously, suddenly dreading whatever trenchant observation his colleague was about to make.

Finally, Jeffries spoke.  “I got no idea what it is about that show that turns people into such fanatics,” he declared.

Scotty suppressed a sigh of relief.  He knew from experience that, in Jeffries’ mind, the matter with Kat was closed. 

“Yeah, me either,” he replied with a wry smile. “Hell, if it ain’t on Nickelodeon, I don’t know crap about it anymore.”

Jeffries smiled knowingly.  “You want in?” he asked, indicating the interview room with a nod.

“Nah,” Scotty answered. “Got some phone calls to make. Thanks, though.”

With Jeffries’ footsteps retreating into the background, Scotty tried to return his attention to the case, but realized, to his chagrin, that, thanks to the gentle interrogation by his colleagues, his thoughts were still in the past. Firmly, inescapably, in the past.  He made several more attempts to drag them into the present, but each time he tried, those thoughts dug their heels in more and more.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he gave up trying to concentrate on work, at least for the moment. He’d been avoiding these thoughts, these memories, for three years. Of all the colossally stupid mistakes he’d made in his life, he ranked this one with Miller as perhaps his worst, and, ever since, even thinking about that night had made him wince with the memory of just how stupid he’d been. It was part of the reason he never talked about it; that and the fact that, really, it was nobody else’s business.

Now, though, now that his meddlesome co-workers had finally pressed the issue, he found the memories swirling around his mind almost uncontrollably; astonishingly vivid, detailed images of that fateful night. He knew from experience with his other screw-ups that the only way to get them to leave him alone would be to entertain them for a few minutes, to swallow his pride and let the flood of shame wash over him, to wallow in it for a bit, and then hope to God it would leave him alone.

But as he began to surrender to his memories, to his great surprise, revisiting that night didn’t bring the overwhelming sense of shame and regret he thought it might. Scotty didn’t have much time to contemplate the reasons why, though. The tidal wave of the past was crashing over his head, and all he could do was let it.

October, 2008

Later that night…

“You did not,” Kat slurred loudly, her smile wide and disbelieving as she set the bottle of bourbon on her coffee table with a heavy thunk.

“I did,” Scotty admitted, equally loudly, suddenly wondering how the hell there got to be two Kat Millers. One was frightening enough, thank you.

“You slept with Lil’s sister?” Without waiting for a reply, Kat swatted his arm again, although, thankfully, it was his left arm this time, and she was too drunk to land a solid hit.

“Hey, I was a jackass, okay?” he insisted defensively, his hand shaking slightly as he picked up the bottle and poured himself another shot. He met Kat’s eyes to gauge her reaction, and even through his drunken haze, he could see her arch an amused brow.

Scotty sighed.  “Look,” he protested. “It was a long time ago, and I was screwed up…”

“And I thought I had bad taste,” Kat chortled as she took the bottle from him and filled her own glass. “You screwin’ Lil’d be weird enough, but her sister? God, Valens, you’re such an idiot,” she declared as she replaced the bottle, perching it somewhat precariously on the edge of the coffee table.

Scotty couldn’t argue with that.  Instead, he smiled, a broad, loopy, intoxicated smile. “Well, if I’da had you around back then, I wouldn’ta slept with Chris,” he declared with a wiggle of his eyebrows, lifting his glass to Kat.

Her eyes widened, though, he noticed with a strange, curious feeling, not with the horrified alarm that he would have expected. He paused for a moment, still grinning roguishly at her, letting his words sink in, before finishing his thought.

“You’da cut ‘em off and thrown ‘em out the window before I had the chance,” he concluded, tossing the shot down his throat.

Whatever he’d seen flickering in her eyes the moment before disappeared in a fit of inebriated laughter.“Damn straight,” she agreed, emptying her own glass, then shook her head in disgust. “Lil’s sister,” she repeated.

Scotty grinned at her, suddenly spying an opportunity to turn the tables. “Well, Miller…sounds like you ain’t exactly got the best track record, either,” he observed.

Kat’s head snapped up, almost audibly, and she leveled him with a fiery glare.  The silence was deafening, and Scotty began to squirm uncomfortably as a thick, noxious cloud of tension suddenly filled the room.  No matter what he did, her eyes never wavered, and he wondered idly if he might actually into flames.  He was about to surrender, to apologize, to start groveling, anything to get that pair of murderous eyes to look somewhere, anywhere, but at him, when she abruptly and inexplicably relaxed her gaze, took a deep breath, and suddenly started chugging the bourbon straight from the bottle.

The tension dissipated as quickly as it had come, and Scotty couldn’t help the relieved chuckle that escaped his lips as he gently wrested the bottle from her hand and poured himself another shot. “That bad, huh?” he asked.

Kat wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and glared at him again, though her glare wasn’t as fiery and terrifying as it had been a moment before.

“I guess, since we’re drunk…” she began slowly, and Scotty quirked a curious brow at her. He hadn’t expected her to share anything; years of working together and still he could count on one hand the number of times she’d talked about anything personal with him. Suddenly, he found he was eager to hear whatever horror story she had to tell him. If she can top schizophrenic suicidal fiancée, my partner’s skanky sister, cheap Christmas trash in Nashville, and a pain-in-the-ass, ball-bustin’, what-the-hell-was-I-thinkin’ ADA, I’ll be impressed.

Kat sighed, a heavy sigh laced with years of regret. “Jarrod Jones,” she stated flatly, and, despite the intoxication, despite their lowered inhibitions, Scotty could tell how much it was costing her to even utter the name. He reached out a compassionate hand and rested it on her shoulder, and she flinched slightly, but, after a moment, relaxed into his touch, and he could tell that just that slight gesture meant more to her than he knew.

“Look, Kat, you don’t hafta---“he began, but she cut him off with a look.

“I’m drunk, Valens,” she informed him. “And this is parta why I didn’t wanna get drunk alone.”

Scotty knew better than to press her, so he remained silent and let her continue.

“I was undercover…he was a banger thug…and I knew better. I knew better,” she slurred bitterly, her eyes on the floor. “Workin’ undercover…you don’t take your eye off the ball. You don’t let ‘em into your head. And you sure as hell don’t sleep with ‘em.”

Scotty nodded, realizing that, essentially, he'd done the exact same thing. Granted, he’d never slept with the sweetly charming breath of fresh air that was Ana Castilla, but he’d gotten in over his head in other ways, focusing all his efforts not on his assignment, but on trying to rescue Ana from the underworld. At least Jarrod Jones didn’t wind up dead ‘cause of Kat, he mused, then, before he could start beating himself up about his undercover job for the umpteenth time, he decided it was time for another shot. As he tossed it down his throat and relished the burn, his thoughts surfaced with sudden clarity. He and Kat had both gotten too involved and in over their heads undercover…but she’d responded over the years by walling herself off, almost impenetrably, from everyone, while he kept doggedly making the same damn mistake, over and over again. Getting too involved, letting his heart rule over his head time after time. It was peculiar how similar their beginnings were, yet how different the roads their lives had taken.

“For one night…one stupid, reckless night…” she spat, “I forgot who I was. I forgot I was a cop. I forgot he was a banger.” She heaved a shuddering sigh and continued. “He promised me the world,” she lamented, her eyes faraway, her voice weighty with self-loathing. “And I believed him. I believed him. A banger thug. And me an undercover Narc.” She sighed and glanced at Scotty, then continued, shaking her head again almost violently. “And I wasn’t gonna do that. I wasn’t gonna be that…that sad, pathetic black girl from the hood who believed the bastard when he said he’d be around after you told him he knocked you up. I wasn’t gonna be the single mom strugglin’ to make ends meet. I was gonna rise above…be different…make somethin’ of myself,” she insisted, and Scotty could tell she was descending into an abyss that, although she probably didn’t succumb to it often, it was always there, always constant, always threatening to swallow her whole…

…and he’d be damned if he let it.

“Miller,” he said, the vast quantities of booze he’d consumed making his voice far louder than he intended. “You did rise above.”

“Yeah?” she asked, almost plaintively, and he could tell, from that and the lost, fragile, infinitely trusting look in her soulful eyes, that…good Lord, she was actually listening to him.

“You’re Kat Miller, badass of Homicide,” he replied with an intoxicated grin. “Don’t you know we’re all afraid of you?”

“I don’t want you to be afraid of me,” she burst out, and Scotty was taken aback by her sudden vehemence, and even more so by what he saw in her eyes.  For the second time that night, he saw her not as his colleague, not as the tough-as-nails cop who could kick his ass into next week if she put her mind to it, not even as his friend…but as a woman. One with heartaches and vulnerabilities and all the things he’d seen in the eyes of Elisa, of Ana, hell, even Lil a time or two, and it never failed to tug at his heartstrings…just as it was doing now, he realized to his chagrin.

You are drunk off your mother-lovin’ ass, Valens, his brain informed him.

“But bein’ a badass is the only way I can get any respect…from doers, from you all, from anyone,” Kat continued, seemingly oblivious to what was going on inside Scotty’s booze-addled brain. “You think the job’s tough now, try doin’ it as a black single mom,” she challenged him, and Scotty knew there was no way in hell he could compete with that.

“Oh, you’re a total badass, don’t get me wrong,” he informed her slowly, still stunned by what he saw in her gaze. “But that ain’t why I respect you.” Her eyes opened even wider with surprise as she looked over at him, and, encouraged, he continued. “I respect you ‘cause you’re a damn good cop, ‘cause you’re a great mom…and ‘cause you juggle all that better than anyone I know.”

Kat smiled, and as her lips curved upward in a dazzling smile and her mocha skin flushed slightly under his compliment, Scotty found himself suddenly and desperately in need of a distraction. Something. Anything. He didn’t care. Just something that would get his thoughts going in a different direction from where they were currently heading.

“You hungry?” he asked, and he saw relief cross her features, relief that he was sure was reflected in his own.Kat considered him for a moment, then shrugged.

“I could eat. Pizza sound good?” she inquired.

“Anything sounds good,” he answered, and Kat struggled to her feet and lurched her way to the counter for the phone and the sheaf of takeout menus she kept stashed in a haphazard pile nearby.

Scotty didn’t know what happened, but all of a sudden, he saw her start to pitch forward. He had no idea how he managed, in his addled state, to leap from the couch and cross the room in time for her to land in his outstretched arms instead of on the hard wooden floor, where she was headed, but he did, managing to catch her just before she landed.

He responded to the look of surprised gratitude in her eyes with a roguish grin. “Told ya you were a pretty good catch,” he couldn’t resist slurring as he helped her to her feet.

To Scotty’s astonishment, however, she didn’t let go of his shoulders when he raised her to a standing position, and he felt the heat of her fingers branding his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. And then…then she met his gaze again, and it took his breath away. There was something in her eyes, something depthless and primal. Like…he’d somehow said something she needed to hear, on an elemental level, and he was suddenly alarmed, yet deeply thrilled, that he knew exactly how she was about to respond.

As her lips slowly, tentatively drew closer to his, and he didn’t fight it like he knew he should, he realized that maybe…just maybe…this might get them both back in the game.

Chapter Three

The Recognition Scene

A few minutes later, during which Scotty found his thoughts venturing further and further off course, meandering their way through thickets of memories he didn’t even know he had…vividly detailed and alluringly erotic memories… he discovered, to his astonishment, that he wasn’t wincing with regret, as he usually did when he remembered that night. No, rather than hastily trying to re-bury the memories in the depths of his subconscious, this time he found himself taking them out, looking at them…and deriving from them a curious amount of something that felt suspiciously like pleasure.

He was just beginning to try to wrap his mind around this strange new development when his swirling thoughts were interrupted by the thunk of a ceramic coffee mug on his desk, his favorite mug, in fact, and he glanced up in surprise to find Lilly grinning at him, amusement twinkling in her blue eyes. It was clear from her expression that she’d been trying to get his attention for quite some time.

"Earth to Valens," she said lightly, the laughter bubbling up in her voice.

"What?" he asked, avoiding her eyes and hoping fervently that now would be one of the rare occasions that she couldn’t read his mind. God help him if she could.

Lilly quirked a brow at him. "You’ve been starin’ off into space for the past twenty minutes, Scotty," she remarked, still fighting her giggles. "What the hell are you doing?"

Scotty quickly cleared his throat. "Nothin’," he replied brusquely, then lunged for the coffee mug, taking far longer than necessary to sip the bitter brew in an attempt to dissuade his unnervingly perceptive partner from asking any more questions.

Fortunately, his cell phone rang just then, and he snatched it from his belt and whipped it open before Lilly even had a chance to blink. He couldn’t remember having ever been so grateful for a distraction in his entire life.

"Valens," he answered as professionally as he could, still avoiding Lilly’s penetrating gaze.

Meanwhile, Lilly sat at her desk, pretending to go over the notes from her interview with Lucy the Battlestar Galactica-obsessed cyber-stalker, but mostly, she was just sipping her coffee and watching her partner. He’d obviously been deep in thought, that was for sure, and the embarrassed flush that had crept into his cheeks when she’d asked him about it told her that those thoughts definitely, definitely hadn’t been on the paperwork in front of him.

"You gotta….what?" Scotty asked blankly, and although Lilly couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, she could tell just from the look on his face that it was Miller, and the news probably wasn’t good.

"Suspended?" he burst out in disbelief. "What the…how the hell can you get suspended from day care?"

Hearing a soft, barely suppressed snicker from the desk beside him, he turned to face Lilly, who was trying to hide her amusement, but failing miserably. He shot her a half-hearted glare, then returned to the conversation. He had more pressing issues at the moment than keeping Lil quiet.

"Well, what about your moms?" he asked, and Lilly fought back another giggle when Scotty's eyes widened in shock and he almost choked on his coffee.

"She’s what?" he asked, with even more disbelief than he had a few seconds before. "Look," he sputtered, "I don’t care if it is Bingo day, I…" He paused, and Lilly could hear, very faintly, the tinny-sounding version of Kat’s undoubtedly cranky retort.

"Yeah, okay, fine," Scotty finally replied, rolling his eyes. "I forgot. Bingo is sacred. Whatever." He paused to listen for a second, then visibly paled. "You’re gonna what?" Another pause, more distorted, barely-audible ranting, and then he sighed in defeat. "Okay, sure! Bring her here!" he agreed with sarcastic enthusiasm, then snapped his phone closed in disgust and glanced over at Lilly as he replaced it.

"Looks like we’re gonna get to spend some quality time with my daughter," he informed his partner drily, a wry grin crossing his face.

Lilly’s laughter finally bubbled over, and Scotty realized that, although it was at his expense, he simply didn’t have it in him to try and squelch her amusement. Her smile could brighten an entire room, and often did, on those rare occasions when she let it. True, she’d been much happier the last couple of years, but old habits died hard, and when he saw that brilliant smile shining there, Scotty was loath to do or say anything that might scare it away.

"What?" he asked, arching his eyebrows and taking another sip of coffee.

"You," she replied, still fighting her laughter. "And that kid of yours."

Scotty chuckled and set the coffee back down on his desk. "She’s a pain in the ass," he replied with mock gruffness, though Lilly could clearly hear the love in his voice.

"Maybe," she conceded, "but you love her more than anything in the world, and you know it."

"Yeah," he agreed softly, his affectionate gaze traveling to the picture he kept on his desk, and Lilly shook her head and studied him.

Scotty was lost in thought for another moment, then felt a pair of curious blue eyes still giving him the once-over.

"What?" he asked again, suddenly uncomfortable. That look Lil was giving him…it was that unnerving, familiar look that always meant she’d just come up with some earth-shattering observation about him, something that would probably irritate the hell out of him…mostly because it was, no doubt, true.

Lilly shrugged casually and turned her eyes back to her paperwork. "Just never really pictured you as a dad, Scotty."

Scotty chuckled with more than a little relief, grateful for the opportunity to yank his memories back to safer terrain. "Yeah…me either," he admitted. "Not back then."

"Especially not back then," Lilly laughed.

"The mornin’ after…" Scotty began, then shook his head. "Jeez."

"You can say that again," Lilly replied.

The Morning After

The first thing Scotty noticed when he woke up the next morning was the most ferociously pounding headache he’d ever had in his entire life.

The second thing that penetrated his consciousness was the fact that he was completely naked and lying on the hard, unforgiving wood of a living room floor. Not his living room, either, he quickly realized. His apartment had dingy, nasty-ass carpet that had smelled funny from the day he moved in, some strange combination of stale beer, Thai food, and wet dog. Not a plank of hardwood in the place.

So if he wasn’t at his place, where the hell was he? Why the hell did his head hurt? And why, for the love of God, was he naked?

Don’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why your ass is naked, Valens, his brain informed him sarcastically. Only question is, who, why, and how bad did you screw up this time?

The why was quickly answered when his bleary eyes managed to focus on an empty bottle of bourbon perched precariously on the edge of a coffee table, a table he didn’t immediately recognize. That led his foggy, hung over brain to ponder the other two questions, the who, and the how bad…

Oh…dear…God.

Bad, he realized.

Really….really…really…bad.

Scotty’s blurry vision had finally focused enough to give him a clear view of the room’s other occupant, who lay sprawled on the couch, snoring softly, with her makeup slightly smudged, a fuzzy, off-white blanket draped over everything but her shoulders, and her hair covering most of the lower half of her face.

Oh, good God, Valens, this is worse than the ADA, his brain scolded him as he scrambled to his feet, ignoring the extra shots of pain with which his aching head and stiff joints rewarded him, in an effort to both maintain his balance and keep as quiet as he possibly could. This is worse than Rush’s sister. Hell, this is worse than both of them put together …worse than anything you possibly coulda---

He was unable to finish his thought, however, due to the icy panic that shot through his veins when Kat stirred slightly. As she rolled onto her back, the blanket slipped slightly too low, revealing the chocolaty swells of her breasts, and he turned away quickly, snatching his boxers from where they lay draped on top of the television and jumping into them as though the room were on fire, then searching around hurriedly for the rest of his clothes. He couldn’t have…they couldn’t have….not after last night. No. Hell, no. Not when she was so vulnerable, so trusting. All she needed was a ride home…a friend…how the hell could he have taken advantage of her like that?

As he hastily zipped his pants, he glanced down and noticed the faint shadow of a bruise on the bronzed skin of his right bicep. Good Lord, that woman could hit hard.

She can do other things hard, too, his libido reminded him, but he ordered it into silence while frantically tugging his T-shirt over his head. It didn’t matter in the slightest how good the sex had been, he couldn’t dwell on it. Couldn’t even think about it. She was his colleague, his friend, the last person in the world he should be sleeping with, and his mission at that point was to grab the rest of his clothing, get the hell out of there, and figure how in the world he was going to face her at work that morning.

Scotty didn’t even dare to breathe until he was out of Kat’s apartment and in his car, and then he finally rested his head against the steering wheel and let out an enormous sigh of relief. He’d managed to escape her place with at least a few shreds of his dignity intact.

Despite the pain in his head, he couldn’t stop himself from gently beating it against the steering wheel a few times as fragments of memories came floating back to him. He wanted to forget it, to pretend it hadn’t happened, and he thought for sure he’d downed enough bourbon the night before to make him even forget his name, but apparently that hadn’t been the case. Apparently, he hadn’t been as drunk as he thought.  A sick, twisting sense of horror rose in his chest as one particular memory floated to the surface.

She tasted like bourbon, he realized as he devoured her lips. Like bourbon, and wine, and the tiniest hint of the cigarette he was pretty sure she’d smoked before her date, just to calm her nerves. She tasted like heaven, and hell, and everything in between, and he knew he should stop, knew if he didn’t, that he’d regret every move he was making, knew that, of all the boneheaded mistakes he’d ever made in his life, this was sure to top the list in the cold, sober light of morning…but she tasted so damn good, he didn’t care. Couldn’t care.

Finally, she pulled back, and he forced himself to meet her gaze."Scotty," she managed, her voice soft, almost tremulous, as she looked up at him, her dark eyes suddenly pricked with fear.

It’s for the best, he told himself as firmly as he could, catching his breath and ignoring his sinking heart. She’s scared, she knows what a stupid-assed idea this is, she’s puttin’ on the brakes, and it’s for the best. You’ll thank her in the morning.

He took a step back , deciding in a split second that the only way to salvage the situation was to make a break for it, get the hell out of there, and just sleep it off in the car…but, to his surprise, the greater distance between them only made the fear he saw in her eyes increase. He sure as hell hadn’t expected that, and it froze him to the spot.

"Scotty," she repeated, her voice even more nervous, her eyes wide and pleading. "I’m…I’m…"

"It’s okay," he said softly, tentatively closing the gap between them once more and gently running his hands up and down her arms. That seemed to calm her somewhat…and that knowledge confused him more than anything that had happened since Stillman had handed him the phone that evening and informed him that a drunken Kat Miller was calling for him…

…until she spoke her next words.

"I’m…not sure what you want me to do next," she admitted almost sheepishly as she avoided his gaze.

"Next?" he parroted blankly. "Kat, I ain’t quite sure I…"

Holy crap. She wasn’t asking him to leave…she wasn’t putting on the brakes…good Lord, she was putting him in the driver’s seat.

And suddenly, Scotty knew. He knew why she’d been so reluctant to go out on that date. He knew what had terrified her more than anything else. And he knew why she’d gotten so drunk at dinner, why she’d downed half a bottle of bourbon after they got back to her place.

Suddenly, he was filled with energy, a sense of purpose, and a tender compassion that flooded through his veins and washed away the last of his reservations. There was a decent chance this wouldn’t be a mistake, he decided. She was lonely, she was vulnerable, she was in need. To leave now would be a worse error than to stay…she was asking for his help. She needed him.

To his complete and utter revulsion, Scotty realized, as the bile and regret began to rise in his throat until he almost choked on it, that, good God, he hadn’t just slept with her because he was drunk. Oh, no. He wasn’t sure which was worse, taking advantage of her while intoxicated, or doing something, he was quickly beginning to realize, with an overwhelming sense of self-loathing, that, even if he’d been stone-cold sober…he probably would have done anyway.

Son of a bitch, he growled inwardly, slapping the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Would he never learn? He and Kat had spent the hour prior to their indiscretion lamenting past mistakes, where they’d let their hearts rule over their heads…and not ten minutes after they’d had that conversation, here he was, making the same goddamn mistake again. Sober, drunk, it wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference, he realized bitterly. She’d deployed his Kryptonite; an honest, vulnerable woman, someone he could save…and he’d swooped in like the superhero he liked to imagine himself to be and made it all better.

Or, he realized with a wry chuckle, worse. Infinitely, unimaginably worse. Because the only way in hell Kat Miller would’ve let him get away with his usual asinine stunts was by being drunk off her ass herself.

Good Lord. He was the biggest idiot on the planet, and he knew that fact wouldn’t escape her. He pictured the look he was sure to see in her eyes, the fury, the murderous rage, and hastily slipped his key into the ignition and drove to his apartment at near breakneck speed…before realizing that, by rushing around like that, he was only hurrying the inevitable.

He was a dead man.

***

Scotty heard the vicious swearing floating in from the hallway long before he saw its source, and his heart and head both began to pound ferociously as Kat entered the office. He didn’t dare to look up from his desk, forcing himself instead to concentrate on the file before him, despite the fact that his hangover, and the fear of what she’d do to him, made the hastily scrawled notes swirl nauseatingly in front of his eyes.

She can’t kill you at work, Valens, his brain reassured him, though even it seemed unconvinced.

He followed her progress with his eyes as she stormed into the kitchen, filled her coffee mug, and then came back out into the office. "Goddamn son of a bitch hangover," she muttered as she plopped heavily into the chair at her desk and began digging around in one of its drawers, the clattering noise from her search making Scotty wince with pain.

"Sounds like someone had a fun evening," Vera piped up, glancing at her with that look that often twinkled in his eyes when he was eager for a morsel of juicy gossip, and Scotty felt an embarrassed flush begin to creep into his cheeks. Oh, God, no. Surely she wouldn’t…

"Fun?" Kat repeated with an incredulous glance in Vera’s direction, then paused thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "All I remember is…a nice bottle of wine." Shaking her head, she returned to her search through the desk drawer. Vera chortled gleefully, but disguised it as a cough when Kat shot him the most murderous glare she could muster.

Meanwhile, Scotty was nearly falling out of his chair with surprise. Did…did she really not remember what happened, or was she just pretending not to, and planning to murder him for it later? Probably the latter, he decided. After all they’d done the night before, all the times she’d moaned his name in the throes of passion, he was sure she’d have remembered…well, something.

Surreptitiously, he studied Kat as she popped a couple of aspirin into her mouth, washed them down with a sip of coffee, then opened up the case file and started to rifle through her notes. She seemed casual enough, concentrating more on relieving what was no doubt an excruciating headache than anything else. After a few seconds’ examination with his carefully honed detective’s eye, Scotty was fairly convinced. It seemed like she really didn’t remember. If she did, he reasoned, he was sure she’d be hauling his ass into the interview room and tearing him a new one then and there, and that was the least he deserved. How the hell could he have let that happen…with her? Did he have no self-control at all?

"What?" she barked as she glanced up and caught him staring at her.

"Nothin’," he replied hastily, returning his eyes to his desk as quickly as he could.

"I knew I shoulda called in sick today," Kat griped with an exasperated glance at both of them. "You two jackasses act like you ain’t never seen a hangover before."

"Oh, I have, trust me," Vera replied gleefully. "I’ve just never seen you with a hangover before."

Kat turned to glare at him. "You don’t quit buggin’ me about this, I swear to God I’ll kick your ass so hard a hangover’ll feel like a day at Disney World," she threatened darkly, and Vera responded with a slight jump, then stuffed a donut into his mouth and returned to clicking away at his keyboard.

Just then, Lilly came into the squad room. "CSU found something," she announced.

Everyone looked up, grateful for the distraction. "What’s that?" Scotty asked.

Lilly held up a small plastic evidence bag. "Fibers from some really ugly shag carpet in that spaceship van," she replied briskly. "They showed up on Missy’s sweatpants."

Scotty froze, knowing he should be focusing on his partner’s discovery and offering his own theories about the case, but he was totally unable to do anything except sneak a look out of the corner of his eye at Kat, whose attention was still fixed on her paperwork.

Suddenly, as though everything was moving in slow motion, she froze, her pen still poised to cross a ‘t’ on the form she was filling out, and Scotty could see the wheels beginning to rotate in her head. He could see her fighting through the fog of her hangover, struggling to comprehend why the hell the idea of sweatpants was sounding so familiar. As various expressions flickered across her face, his heart leaped into his throat, and he fervently wished he could just crawl under his desk and into a hole that would lead him to some alternate universe far, far away from this mess.

Suddenly, he saw the realization dawn on her face, and Kat stiffened, dropped her pen to the desk, and rose from her chair so quickly she knocked it over with a loud, metallic clatter that caused everyone to jump and made Scotty wince and groan involuntarily as the noise invaded his head with a sharp, stabbing pain above his eyes.

"Oh, shit," she exclaimed under her breath, then rushed from the office. "I think I’m gonna be sick," she muttered on her way out.

Lilly glanced at Scotty and Vera quizzically.

"Hangover," Vera explained with a shrug as he rose from his desk.

"Wow…guess she really was drunk last night," Lilly concluded, glancing in Scotty’s direction before heading into the interview room, Vera close behind.

Scotty paused and rubbed his temples with his fingertips as he pondered his next move. He knew he should go find Miller, go talk to her, go drop to his knees and grovel and beg and see if there was anything in the world she’d let him do that might possibly make up for the horrible, awful mistake he’d made the previous night. But…she might kill him before he got the chance to ask.

Well, what the hell? he asked himself rhetorically as, decision made, he got up and headed out into the hallway after her. Least, if she does kill me… I’ll get rid of this damn headache.

***

After several minutes of searching, Scotty finally found Kat pacing a little-used hallway on the top floor, her head in her hands.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid," he heard her mutter over and over as she stalked the hallway, her back to him.

Scotty agreed wholeheartedly. Stupid was the least of what he was. He cringed as another memory hit, making his headache even worse.

Guess I might have game after all, she’d slurred seductively.

Oh, you got game, baby, Scotty heard the drunken version of himself echoing in reply. You got game.

Kat turned around then, glanced up, and saw him standing there. Her eyes met his for a moment, then widened in absolute horror, matching the expression Scotty was sure reflected from his own, and he stood there, completely helpless and totally unable to move. He studied her face, trying to figure out whether she’d murder him right away, or whether she’d torture him slowly until he begged her to put him out of his misery.

Kinda like she did last night, his libido reminded him cheerfully, and once more, he ordered it into silence.

What he didn’t expect, however, was what came out of her mouth.

"How the hell could I have been so…so stupid?" she demanded of him, her voice wavering and her eyes suddenly shining with tears. "How could I have let this happen?"

Scotty was floored. She thought…she thought she was the stupid one?

"Hey…it ain’t your fault," he insisted softly, taking a couple tentative steps toward her. "It’s mine. I was drunk off my ass… and weak…and I took advantage of you."

Kat stared at him incredulously. "You…took advantage of me?" she repeated in disbelief. "Nuh-uh, Valens," she disagreed, shaking her head, "I took advantage of you. You were a real friend to me last night. You came and bailed me out and said exactly what I needed to hear to make me feel better, and I shoulda let it go at that, but I didn’t…I just...just threw myself at you," she finished, tossing her hands up in the air in a gesture of utter helplessness.

"But I let you," Scotty argued, determined not to let her take the blame for this. "I didn’t stop you. I shoulda stopped you."

"I shoulda stopped myself," Kat disagreed with another self-deprecating shake of her head. She paused then, a peculiar look crossing her face, and Scotty searched her eyes with a frown. "It’s just that---" she started to say, then trailed off.

"What?" he asked quietly, against his better judgment.

She leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, hesitated for another few seconds, her eyes on the floor, then looked up at him again. "It just…it felt so damn good…not to be alone for once, y’know?" she said, her voice thick and tremulous.

Scotty nodded, dumbfounded by that lightning-fast change between anger and vulnerability that he’d first seen the night before…and also by how starkly true her words were. "Yeah," he agreed quietly.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Kat seemed to snap back to attention.

"Look," she began tentatively. "I don’t want this to…be anything."

"Me neither," Scotty quickly agreed, with some measure of relief. Things were messy enough already.

"In fact," Kat continued softly. "I know this is askin’ a lot, but…" she trailed off then, shaking her head.

"C’mon," he prodded with a slight grin, suddenly reassured that, for the moment, anyway, his life was safe. "Whatever it is, just ask."

She looked up at him again, suddenly more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.

"Can we just…go back to the way things were?" she asked, her eyes wide and pleading. "Can we pretend this never happened?"

Scotty sighed with relief and smiled broadly. "Absolutely," he agreed. "Can’t think of anything I’d like better."

Kat sighed again, the first hint of a smile beginning to touch her face. "Okay, then," she said, her shoulders almost visibly slumping as the anxiety started to bleed out of her.

"Shake on it?" Scotty asked, extending a hand.

Kat studied his proffered hand almost suspiciously for a moment, then responded with a slight shudder. "No…no touching for a while, okay?" she suggested, a slight wince touching her features.

Scotty couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Fine by me, Miller," he replied as he turned and headed toward the elevator to return to the office without a backward glance.

Chapter Four

The Mess Inside

Lilly responded to Scotty’s reminiscing with a gentle chuckle. "Back to the way things were, huh?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Hey," Scotty shot back, with a self-deprecating smile. "It worked great…for a while."

"It did," Lilly agreed. "I gotta hand it to you…none of us had any idea. You two managed to fool a bunch of murder cops for two months."

Scotty’s grin widened and changed, in a flash, from rueful to cocky. "Good," he replied firmly. "Last thing in the world I wanted was for things to get weird around here."

"Weird?" Lilly chuckled. "So this two-year-old holy terror of yours that’s comin’ to invade the office in a few minutes…that’s not weird?" she asked, grinning mischievously at her partner over the rim of her coffee mug as she took a sip.

Scotty glared in her direction, but couldn’t hide his smile. "Like I said…it worked great for a while."

Mid-December, 2008

Lilly pushed open the door to the ladies’ room with something akin to a sigh of relief. She loved her job, loved absolutely everything about it. She loved her colleagues, too, at least most of the time, but sometimes…well, sometimes, she just needed to get out of the maelstrom of snark and testosterone that comprised Homicide. This morning, she mused with no small amount of irritation, was definitely one of those times. Nick Vera’s sexist tendencies and careless remarks, while usually tolerable, were driving her up the wall today. Unable to put a finger on why, exactly, Lilly just decided to chalk it up as one of those days, but she needed an escape, just a few minutes alone to gather her thoughts. And the ladies’ room…well, that was the one place in the whole building that Lilly could normally count on having to herself.

Most of the time, anyway, she mused, remembering once a few weeks earlier when Vera and Toni had had an argument, Toni had kicked him out, and he’d spent a few days living at Headquarters and taking care of his morning grooming in the ladies’ room, of all places, much to Lilly’s consternation. Now, though, Vera, was safely ensconced in the kitchen, happily embroiled in a friendly debate with Jeffries. So happy was he to expound on his opinions that he hadn’t even noticed her departure, and, as she stepped inside the restroom, she knew that, today at least, she could count on some privacy.

Or not, she amended with some alarm as she heard quiet retching emanating from the lone occupied toilet stall and echoing off the dingy beige tiles that lined the walls. Lilly’s brow furrowed as her mind raced with a myriad of possibilities, and she quickly deduced that…holy crap…it almost had to be Miller. Sure, there were other women over in Major Crimes, but there was also another ladies’ room that catered to that department. Usually, the only two female murder cops in Philly had a whole restroom to themselves.

If Kat was indeed sick, a scenario that seemed more likely by the second as Lilly heard another round of gagging, quickly followed by the flush of a toilet, it wouldn’t come as a complete surprise. She’d noticed her colleague looking a little green around the gills for the last few days, and Miller had surrendered donuts and coffee to Vera without a word, which hardly ever happened. Fighting over donuts, Chinese takeout, hell, food in general…that was the primary mode of communication between Miller and Vera. And as for the coffee…well, everyone in their department practically needed it intravenously, so for Miller to turn it down without so much as a second thought? It raised Lilly’s eyebrows, anyway, although she didn’t think any of the others had noticed. Typical, she scoffed, and silently cursed the insensitive Neanderthals of Homicide.

Before Lilly could process things any further, however, the door to the stall swung open and, as suspected, Miller emerged, her normally dark skin looking pale and clammy. With an uncomfortable, oh, shit sort of glance in Lilly’s direction, Kat swept past her on the way to the sink, where she matter-of-factly splashed her face and rinsed out her mouth.

"Better?" Lilly asked kindly, the wheels in her head starting to turn. Miller looking sick…turning down coffee and donuts…perking up considerably, and consistently, around lunchtime…

"A little," Kat replied with a nonchalant shrug. Avoiding Lilly’s eyes, she defiantly yanked a handful of paper towels from the dispenser on the wall and started to pat her face dry.

"This…been happening a lot? Gettin’ sick?" Lilly ventured lightly, not wanting to pry…just wanting to confirm the disturbing theory that had suddenly sprung to mind.

Kat stole a cryptic glance at Lilly, then returned to drying her face. "Just this week," she answered coolly, though Lilly’s carefully honed detective skills saw right through the practiced indifference. "I think there’s a stomach flu or somethin’ goin’ around," Kat added, with another casual shrug.

Too much information. Too quick with an overly detailed explanation. Gotcha, Lilly thought.

"Funny," she commented, her voice kind, but clear that she wasn’t in the mood for any crap. "I haven’t heard anyone else talk about it." She leveled her colleague with a compassionate, yet stern gaze, one perfected by years of studying doers in the interview room. But even all that practice couldn’t prepare her for what followed.

It began with a defiant stare from Kat, but, despite her best efforts, she couldn’t hide the tears that suddenly filled her dark eyes. After a few seconds, she turned and angrily flung the wad of paper towels into the trash can, then whirled back, hands on hips, to face a stunned Lilly, still blinking back tears from eyes that now blazed with fury…and a touch of fear.

"I’m pregnant, okay? That what you wanted to know?" Kat demanded, her voice quietly angry, yet simultaneously, to Lilly’s surprise, almost a bit helpless.

"I’m eight weeks along," she continued, all of a sudden sounding weary and defeated, "I’m exhausted all the time, just the smell of coffee makes me gag, I can’t keep anything in my stomach before noon, and I can’t believe I was stupid enough to do this again." With a frustrated sigh, she flung her hands up in exasperation. "You’d think I’da learned my lesson eleven years ago, but no, I let some guy sweet-talk his way into my pants, again, and this is what happens," she finished bitterly.

Even though Lilly had suspected what Kat was about to tell her, she was absolutely dumbfounded, both by the news and by the fact that her normally walled-off, ultra-private colleague had just spilled her guts, to her of all people, right there in the ladies’ room. Suddenly, she realized that she was totally clueless as to the appropriate response. Oh, sure, when people unburdened their souls in the interview room, she knew exactly what to do…but when it was a colleague? A friend? Sharing something this personal? Lilly was at a complete loss, with no idea what to say, no idea what to do, but she clearly needed to say something, she realized, since Miller, who was apparently at the end of her rope, hadn’t stormed out of the restroom like Lilly expected her to. Instead, she was still standing there, gazing at the floor and blinking back tears, her arms folded protectively across her chest. Clearly, some action was needed.

Out of the chaos, Lilly quickly snatched the only coherent thought she could form. "Have…have you told Boss yet?" she asked, and Kat responded with a furrowed brow and a blank stare.

"Boss?" she repeated, blinking in surprise, then shook her head slowly. "No…no, I—I haven’t…I haven’t told anyone. I can’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin everything…it’ll…I just can’t," she finished, her voice growing more and more anxious with each word.

Kat was obviously starting to panic again, and Lilly, still half-thinking she was making up this particular side of her co-worker, instinctively took a couple steps forward and gently grasped the shorter woman’s shoulders. She waited for a second until her colleague’s breathing slowed slightly and her rapidly darting eyes finally locked on her blue ones, and then she spoke.

"Pregnancy’s…kinda hard to hide, Kat," she said gently, with a slight smile. "Tell people or not, but I bet anything a bunch of detectives’ll figure it out eventually."

Kat paused, then smiled slightly and nodded in silent agreement as Lilly lowered her hands and took a step back.

Finally, after a long moment, Kat responded. "I…I just want this to go away," she said quietly, her voice almost a whimper, and Lilly found her heart filling with compassion.

"There…there are ways…" she began hesitantly, but Kat’s head snapped up and her eyes flashed fire, any and all traces of vulnerability suddenly long gone.

"I ain’t gettin’ rid of it," she snapped. "That’s one thing I know for sure. This thing in me…it’s a real live baby. My real live baby. And it’s gonna make things complicated as hell, yeah…but I’m keepin’ it. That’s one thing I do know."

"Good," Lilly replied proudly, relieved that something of the old Kat Miller was still in there somewhere. "You’ve already made one really important decision."

"Two," Kat added without missing a beat, her trademark determination still firmly in place. "I’m puttin’ in for a transfer back to Narcotics."

Lilly took another step back, blinking in surprise. "Narcotics?" she parroted. "And…and leave Homicide? Why?" she asked blankly, a frown creasing her delicate features.

Kat fixed Lilly with a withering glare, one with which Lilly was quite familiar, and one that she welcomed wholeheartedly. The old Miller was back in full force. The helplessness, the tears, the vulnerability…Lilly wasn’t sure at all how to handle any of that, but the fiery glare? That, she could deal with.

"You outta your mind, Rush?" Kat was demanding, hands on her hips. "You got any idea how much work a baby is? You think I got time to chase doers all day while I’m nursin’ round-the-clock and changin’ diapers every twenty minutes?"

"That’s why they created maternity leave," Lilly reminded her friend. "You take a couple months off, and you don’t work as much when you come back. Boss’ll understand, and we’ll all cover for you," she offered, knowing the others would back her up without so much as a second thought. "You know that," she continued. "It’s us. And besides…" she ventured hesitantly, "…couldn’t the father help?"

Kat’s head snapped up, and she shot Lilly a dark glare, but beneath the anger was a hint of…was that fear? Lilly knew her colleague was trying to hide it, and knew that she was successful the vast majority of the time. But her practiced detective’s eye could spot fear in someone’s eyes from a mile away…helped, Lilly realized wryly, by her own years of experience with trying hide that emotion from a perceptive colleague. Kat was equally practiced, it seemed, since she hid her trepidation so skillfully that, if not for her experience, Lilly would have missed it entirely.

"You haven’t told him yet, have you?" she continued kindly, far more of a statement than a question.

Kat started to protest, then gave up and sighed in frustration. "Well, what the hell am I supposed to tell him?" she demanded, flinging her hands in the air helplessly. "Hi, we had a stupid one-night stand that we both regret, and we wanna just forget about it, but guess what, we can’t, ‘cause oh, by the way, seven months from now, I’m gonna have your kid?" she suggested, her voice oozing sarcasm. "Yeah, that worked real well the first time."

"He’s got a right to know," Lilly reminded Kat. "And besides, you don’t know what kinda guy he is. Maybe he’ll be…better at the dad thing," she offered, her discomfort increasing almost exponentially with each second that passed. She was so far out of her element here it wasn’t even funny.

"I know exactly what kinda guy he is," Kat replied, her voice heavy with bitterness. "That’s the problem."

"He not a good guy?" Lilly asked casually, searching her colleague’s eyes. She didn’t want to pry, hell, the less she knew about this, the happier she’d be, but she also didn’t want Miller to split from Homicide on a hormonally-induced whim. Kat was one of the best, dammit, and if she let her hormones do the talking…well, that’d just prove Vera’s ill-considered, chauvinistic point from earlier, the point that had driven Lilly to seek refuge in the restroom in the first place. Damn Vera…

Kat kept her eyes glued to the floor, and Lilly continued awkwardly. "I mean…it sounds like Veronica’s dad isn’t…around much …and you’re doin’ just fine with her on your own…" she floundered.

"That ain’t it," Kat burst out, once again sounding dangerously close to tears, and Lilly glanced around, wishing fervently that there was some graceful way out of this, or, failing that, a hole of some sort she could crawl into and disappear. Neither one appeared, though, and Lilly stayed put. Her colleague, for some reason, seemed to need her.

"He’s…he’s not a bad guy," Kat went on, and Lilly was mystified by the strange tone Miller’s voice had suddenly taken. "At least, I don’t think he is," she mused. "He seems decent enough…but I got no idea whether he’d…" she trailed off, paused for a few seconds, then shrugged almost defiantly and spat out the thought with which she’d been struggling.

"Hell, you’d know better than I would," she said, glancing up at Lilly.

I’d know better than she would? Lilly’s eyes widened in alarm, and she felt her heart and mind both starting to race. Just exactly what the hell did Miller mean by that? Lilly wanted to ask, to press further, to act like this was just an interview, like Kat Miller was just some random witness…but now that Lilly was involved, no matter how indirectly…if the father was someone she knew…no way could she be impartial…but she definitely didn’t want to be perceived as nosy, either, so all she could do was stare.

All the time in the world to imagine the myriad of possibilities wouldn’t have prepared her for what Kat said next.

"It’s Scotty, all right?" she announced softly, looking at the floor. "Scotty goddamn Valens. It’s his. He’s the father." She looked up at Lilly again, her expression radiating helplessness once more. "So what the hell am I supposed to do about that?"

Her colleague’s words were soft, but they broke into Lilly’s mind like a bullet through glass. She couldn’t recall being more stunned in her entire life. About anything. Ever.

Scotty? Her partner? Oh, Lilly knew he sometimes had trouble keeping it zipped, knew that he’d made some stupid choices in the romance department over the years…but for him to sleep with one of their co-workers? To knock her up? To make one ill-advised decision that would forever compromise his working relationship with…well, everyone in the department? To act on impulse and think with his dick and permanently alter everything? What the hell was wrong with him that he---?

"Lil?" Kat ventured tentatively, breaking through Lilly’s angry reverie. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you and Scotty have this…whatever it is you have…" she trailed off, seemingly unsure how to describe it.

"We don’t have a…" Lilly started to answer automatically, but then paused. What was it? What did they have? It wasn’t anything, yet it was everything, and it was about to change forever, and she couldn’t help but feel...holy crap, was that jealousy she was feeling? Of Miller? No, Lilly wasn’t jealous, she realized with a sense of relief…she was threatened. She and Scotty had spent years constructing, and occasionally re-constructing, their partnership. Despite their conflicts, despite the bumps in the road that they’d encountered, he’d always been there for her, for anything, and took great pains to make sure she knew that. He’d even saved her life. And now…now his attentions would be forever divided. He wouldn’t always be there for her, because he’d need to always be there for Miller…and for their baby.

"It’s fine," Lilly reassured Kat quickly. It was. And it would be. It would have to be. She knew Scotty well enough to know that, whatever happened, he’d always have her back. He was her friend, her partner, and she knew those were things he didn’t take lightly. They were a family, this squad, and adding one more member…yeah, it’d change things, but one thing she could never question about Scotty was his loyalty. His devotion to the people he cared about. His friends…his family…the squad…she’d seen it with Elisa, she’d seen it in their partnership…and she realized, in a flash, that she suddenly knew what to say to help Miller.

"Look," she began with a kind smile as she placed a reassuring hand on Kat’s arm. "Scotty’s one of the most loyal people I know. The people he loves…his friends, his family…they’re everything to him, and I know that he’ll love this baby, too. He won’t abandon you…it’s just not in his nature. Scotty…he’s one of the good guys," she said with feeling, realizing that she meant it in every sense of the word.

"I know," Kat replied slowly. "I know he’s not like…" she started to say, then shook her head. "I know. I just…God, how the hell do I tell him?" she asked helplessly. "It’s gonna change his life forever. How the hell do I drop a bombshell like that?" she inquired, then shook her head again. "I…I can’t," she declared, with a sense of irrational finality. "I can’t tell him."

"Kat," Lilly chided gently. "Scotty’s no rocket scientist, but you’re no slut, either. You don’t sleep around, and when you start gettin’ bigger…he’s gonna be able to do the math. And if you haven’t told him, if he’s gotta figure out for himself that you’re carryin’ his child…that’s…that’s either gonna make him mad or break his heart…I’m not sure which."

"That’s why I gotta get outta Homicide," Kat retorted, but something in her voice gave Lilly pause. Her bravado was just a shell of its usual self, and Lilly suddenly realized the truth.

"You don’t really wanna leave, do you?" she realized compassionately.

Kat paused thoughtfully. "No," she replied, her voice almost plaintive. "But I just…I dunno how to…" she trailed off, looking up once again with helplessness radiating from her dark eyes.

"The direct approach," Lilly supplied. "Scotty hates being lied to."

Kat’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Hates bein’ lied to? But—but he---" she sputtered in incredulous protest.

"I know," Lilly replied with a slight smile. "He lies all the time. It’s just…one of his quirks." She chuckled slightly, remembering...then continued. "Look, I can’t fix him, I can’t change him, I can just tell you how he is and how to deal with him."

"I know," Kat answered, the relief, and gratitude, suddenly shining in her eyes. "And I’m glad. ‘Cause I worked my ass off to get here, and I really don’t wanna lose it all just ‘cause of one dumb night with Scotty Valens, of all people," she declared, with just a hint of disgust.

Lilly’s smile widened. That was the Kat Miller she knew. She sighed with relief at the fact that, despite her inexperience, she’d been able to talk her panic-stricken colleague back to some semblance of her true self.

"You shouldn’t," Lilly agreed. "You’ve overcome a lot. You’ve been a single mom for over a decade. You’ve arrested some of the worst scum this earth has to offer without even blinking. You can do this, too" she encouraged quietly.

"I can do this. I can do this," Kat repeated, her voice suddenly more confident. "But…" she glanced up at Lilly once more, her dark eyes suddenly wide and almost pleading.

"I won’t say a word about this to him," Lilly promised, with a reassuring pat on her colleague’s arm. "But you have to," she urged gently, then turned to leave.

"I will," Kat replied firmly. "I’ll tell him. Today."

Chapter Five

It Froze Me

As Lilly finished her story, Scotty’s heart flooded with affectionate warmth, and he gazed at his partner in disbelief. "You went to bat…for me?" he asked in amazement.

Lilly shrugged in reply, with an almost-sheepish grin. "Well, yeah," she replied, her tone slightly uncomfortable, but her sapphire eyes earnest.

Scotty supposed the surprise must have flickered across his face, because Lilly chuckled softly, then continued, the awkwardness disappearing from her voice. "I mean, c’mon, Scotty…you’ve been my partner for years. You were there for me after George, you were there after my mother died…hell, you saved my life when I got shot," she finished, her smile widening. "You think I’m gonna take all that lightly?"

Unaccustomed to this sort of openness from Lilly, he smiled almost shyly, then took a sip of his coffee and pondered her words. They really did have a great partnership, he realized. As she’d said just a few minutes before…it wasn’t anything, and yet it was everything…and it had survived quite a lot of changes over the years: Elisa, Christina, George, the shooting, the love interests that flitted in and out of both their lives, now Kat and the baby…. Looking back over the years, Scotty was truly amazed that he and Lil had kept their partnership alive and well and as strong as ever despite all that. They’d been through a lot, but, as she’d said, he’d always been there for her, and he certainly had no plans of doing otherwise. And yet, for some unfathomable reason…she’d feared losing him. As he placed the coffee mug back on his desk, he glanced up and studied her carefully for a second. Whatever fears Lil had had three years ago seemed to have been put to rest, but, just in case, he hastily sought to reassure her.

"Hey," he said tenderly, with a slight grin, looking deep into his partner’s eyes and placing his hand over hers. "It’s gonna take a lot more than a baby for you to get rid of me. You know that."

"Oh, I know that now," Lilly agreed warmly. "But I just…didn’t back then. And…I was worried," she admitted, her eyes leaving his and fixating on the files on the desk in front of her.

"You never told me that," he replied, seeking her gaze and holding it fast.

After a moment, Lilly smiled and shrugged again. "Well, you had enough on your plate," she informed him lightly. At his arched brow, she continued. "C’mon, Scotty…an unplanned pregnancy with a co-worker? You sure as hell didn’t need worryin’ about me on top of all that."

"Worryin’ about you is always on my plate, Lil," he retorted mildly, giving her hand an affectionate pat before withdrawing his. "It’s somethin’ I’m gonna do, no matter what."

"I know," Lilly replied, then hesitated for a moment before meeting his eyes once more. "And, Scotty…thanks."

He grinned at her again, his eyes twinkling merrily. "Maybe I should be thankin’ you, y’know…for tellin’ Miller what you did." Scotty paused then, his expression suddenly reflective. "Course, that doesn’t exactly make how I handled it look all that good…"

Mid-December, 2008

With the passage of the next few weeks, things had quickly returned to normal, much to Scotty’s amazement. After that awkward first morning, and a couple slightly uncomfortable days after that where they mostly avoided each other, he and Kat had gone back to the way things always had been between them: a snarky, yet sincere friendship, where they laughed and joked and called each other on their crap. Scotty was eternally grateful that their drunken indiscretion had been only a speed bump on an otherwise smooth road, especially now. Things had been a bit strange with Lilly lately, and though he couldn’t for the life of him think why, he refused to waste time obsessing over it as he had in the past. Lil was just…like that, he’d learned over the years. Sometimes she opened up to him, other times she didn’t, and although that had at one time irked him to no end, he’d finally come to accept it as having no bearing on their partnership, or their friendship…it was just the way she was.

But with Kat, he never had to guess how she was feeling. She told it to him straight up, never beating around the bush or pretending she was fine when she wasn’t, and although she wasn’t the type to pour out her innermost feelings to him, or anyone else, for that matter, he didn’t have to do that awkward, walking-on-eggshells dance he sometimes did with Lilly. As a result, despite his long-enduring friendship with Lilly, he was comfortable with Kat in a way that he wasn’t with his partner. Kat’s straightforward nature was contagious: she was honestly and unabashedly herself, especially around him, and that gave him the freedom to let go and do likewise. So he was glad, and endlessly relieved, that things hadn’t gotten weird between them.

At least…not until recently. The past couple of weeks, though, Scotty had noticed Kat looking wan and frequently a bit sick. Occasionally, with a peculiar look crossing her face, she’d suddenly excuse herself from whatever they were doing, be gone for a few minutes, and then return looking somewhat drained, but definitely better. She was also yawning a lot more than usual, he’d observed, yet for some reason she wasn’t guzzling coffee by the gallon like the rest of them always did…like she used to, he noted with alarm. She wasn’t fighting with Vera for snacks, either, and at this, Scotty began to think that maybe she really was sick. Well, whatever it was, he hoped it wasn’t serious. Or contagious.

But as the days wore on and she didn’t seem to be getting any better, Scotty grew more and more concerned. He considered asking her about it, perhaps even suggesting that she see a doctor, but, around that same time, much to his chagrin, he suddenly found himself perilously close to walking on those damn eggshells. Around her, for God’s sake. Where their relationship had previously been characterized by gentle teasing and jovial snark, it was now, he was loath to realize, nearly nonexistent. She didn’t speak to him unless she had to, and the few interviews they’d done together had been eerily quiet and awkwardly professional. In the office, Scotty would glance up and see her looking at him with an inscrutable expression on her face, one that he mulled over regularly, but could never truly figure out. At any rate, he never got too long to study it, because whenever she caught him looking at her, she’d hastily glance away, bury herself in her paperwork, or find an excuse to go somewhere else.

As he pondered all these things anew that chilly December afternoon, Scotty heaved a sigh of frustration. They were doing so well, given what happened…things had gone great until a couple weeks ago. He’d honestly thought they could go back to the way things used to be. After all, he didn’t have feelings for her, she didn’t have feelings for him…at least, he was pretty sure she didn’t. With a bit of alarm, he briefly wondered if that was it, if that was why she was being suddenly so standoffish, but then he dismissed the thought almost as soon as it occurred to him, mostly because that wouldn’t explain her physical symptoms. At any rate, what he’d done was a mistake, a simple one, one that he still cursed himself for, but one that had been fueled by alcohol and loneliness and that...that plaintive, wide-eyed…vulnerable look that never failed to reel him in like a damn catfish.

Through the cacophony of his thoughts, Scotty heard the metallic scrape of a chair against the floor. He glanced up just in time to see Miller abruptly fleeing for about the fourth time that day, and he furrowed his brow in confusion as he watched her leave. She’d been sneaking even more odd glances toward him than usual for the past couple hours, and his irritation with the whole thing was beginning to reach a fever pitch, bringing him thisclose to just pulling her into the interview room and interrogating her. He’d come to expect this sort of behavior from Lilly, naturally…but from Kat? Not in a million years. Complete withdrawal from someone wasn’t her M. O., not in the slightest. Tearing them a new one was more her style.

He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with him, and he wished she’d just hit him with it already and get it over with. He didn’t think she was mad at him, because anger wasn’t exactly the vibe he was getting from her…but, if she was, well…there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He knew that. He’d screwed up, badly, and if she simply couldn’t go back to the way things had been, if that was just too difficult for her, well, then that was a price he’d have to pay. But for the love of God, he wished she’d just tell him.

As he lowered his eyes back to his paperwork, he caught Lilly glancing at him, a quizzical expression crossing her delicate features. Oh, what, her too, now? Goddammit. He couldn’t take much more of this. Scotty was fairly certain Miller hadn’t spilled the beans to Lil about their mistake, as private as she was… and even if she had, Rush wouldn’t judge. Well…that wasn’t entirely true. She would. And probably was, right this second, he realized with a heavy dose of cynicism.

"What?" he demanded, his voice and glare both sharp as he directed his attention to his partner.

Lilly was unperturbed by his sudden outburst. "You need to go talk to her," she informed him calmly, her eyes on the pile of old newspapers she was combing through.

"Oh, like that’s gonna work," he scoffed. "She ain’t spoken to me in---"

"Scotty," Lilly interrupted as she raised her eyes to his, her voice still kind, but unquestionably firm. "Just. Go. Talk to her."

He stared back at her in defiance, but she coolly met his gaze, clear by her expression that backing down was nowhere on her agenda. Finally, knowing when to cut his losses, Scotty sighed heavily and tossed his pen to the desk as he rose from his chair.

"Fine," he agreed tersely. "Least maybe now I’ll get some damn answers."

***

After a fruitless fifteen minutes spent searching the building, he finally found Kat downstairs on the first floor, leaning wearily against the wall of a little-used hallway off the lobby. For some reason, she’d stationed herself directly in line with the front doors, thus ensuring that she caught a brief wintry blast every time someone went in or out. Somewhat mystified, and more than a bit concerned, Scotty wanted to warn her that she’d get cold, but as he approached her, he saw her looking pale and clammy despite the frequent gusts of frigid air. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was quick and shallow.

"Miller," Scotty said gently, and her eyes flew open, betraying her surprise for just a moment before she lowered them to the floor, that same inscrutable expression settling over her features. "You okay?" he asked, giving her a careful once-over.

"Yeah," she replied, though her voice was entirely too chipper to match her current appearance. "Fine."

Fine, he repeated inwardly, with a touch of bitter amusement. Gee, where in the world had he heard that before? He was willing to put up with it from Lilly, since that’s just how she was, but not here. Not now. Not from Miller.

"Don’t give me that crap, Kat," he chided, with at least moderate success in disguising his rising irritation. "I know you ain’t fine."

As expected, she glared at him, though her glare was a wan shadow of its usual self, and this both emboldened and frightened him. "You’re lookin’ kinda sick…" he pressed uncomfortably, "…you sure you’re okay? Can I get you anything? Coffee, maybe?" he asked, snatching the first idea that came to mind.

Her eyes widened, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, she turned just a shade or two paler than she already was. "Not coffee," she said vehemently, shaking her head. "Anything but coffee."

No coffee? What the hell was wrong with her?

"Okay…water, maybe? Juice? Soda?" he offered helplessly.

Kat brightened ever so slightly. "See if they got some ginger ale," she requested, her voice suddenly feeble, her eyes showing that tender flash of vulnerability, the one that had gotten them into this whole awkward mess in the first place, and Scotty tossed a brief glance in the direction of the coffee cart just outside the lobby.

"Ginger ale," he repeated with an uncertain frown as he moved toward the glass double doors. "You got it." He headed out into the spitting snow, purchased a bottle of Canada Dry from the puzzled-looking street vendor, who very likely hadn’t sold a cold drink all day, and brought it back inside to Kat. Offering him a weak smile of thanks, she quickly twisted the lid off and sipped the soda gratefully.

"Better?" Scotty asked, his eyes dark with concern. More than anything, he wanted to reach out and place a hand on her shoulder, an innocent gesture of comfort and reassurance, but he wasn’t sure if her No Touching rule was still in effect, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to press the boundaries now.

"Yeah," she replied softly, and he could tell that, somehow, the ginger ale had actually helped. With a weak, yet grateful, smile, she added, "Thanks, Scotty."

"You’re welcome," he answered, and then a silence descended upon them as he wrestled with his thoughts, circling around the questions he was dying to ask and trying to figure out the least dangerous way to go about asking them. After all, Lil had practically ordered him to go talk to Kat, and he was pretty damn sure the ginger ale had nothing to do with it. Something fishy was going on with Miller, that much was clear, and, now that she seemed a bit better, he suddenly realized that he didn’t feel quite as guilty about broaching the subject. Now, he decided, was as good a time as any. Well, here goes nothin’…

"Look," he began nervously, turning to face her as he raked a hand through his hair. "I, uh…I know you ain’t feelin’ good and all, and…I know this is probably the last thing you wanna talk about, but…" she tossed him a suspicious glance at this, and, despite her weakened state, he knew he’d better just spit it out.

"What’s goin’ on with you?" he asked, still somewhat hesitant. At her unreadable expression, he continued. "I mean, we’re hardly talkin’ anymore, and you’re lookin’ all sick, and you ain’t gettin’ any better, and…"

Kat chuckled uneasily at this, and Scotty stopped dead in his tracks. She was laughing?

"Ain’t no cure for what I got," she replied, avoiding his eyes and taking another sip of her ginger ale.

Scotty was instantly alarmed. No cure? What the hell was wrong with her? Did she have cancer? Was she dying? If she was, he thought angrily, the least she could do was quit this goddamn job, ‘cause if he only had a few months to live, he’d be damned if he---

"Scotty," she said sharply, breaking through the maelstrom of his thoughts. He looked up to find her clutching the bottle of ginger ale so tightly her knuckles had turned white, her pulse pounding at the base of her throat, and he just stared at her, trying like hell to read the mysterious look in her dark eyes.

"Relax," she reassured him with a faltering grin. "I’ll be better in another four weeks or so."

Four weeks? Where he came from, sicknesses only lasted a few days, maybe a week if it was a really bad flu or something. But four weeks? He couldn’t even begin to comprehend being ill that long.

Completely dumbfounded, Scotty could only stand there, still frantically searching Kat’s eyes. He could tell from her expression that she was clearly hoping he’d just get something, that he’d understand without her having to say anything, and, Lord, did he wish he could, but he…just didn’t.

"Four weeks?" he parroted, still fixated on that nearly unimaginable number. "What the hell’s wrong with you that it’s gonna take four weeks to get over?"

"I said four weeks to get better," she retorted, but her tone was far more timid than usual. "But it’s not goin’ away anytime soon."

"Kat," Scotty burst out helplessly. "For the love of God, would you just tell me what’s goin’ on with you?"

To his amazement, rather than shoot back the volley of angry snark he expected, she merely smiled up at him again, the smile tentative, almost girlish, her eyes shining with something he’d never seen there before. She opened her mouth to say something, closed it again, then took a deep, shaky breath and let it out slowly.

"I’m pregnant, Scotty," she informed him softly. "Eight weeks along." With that, she gave him an anxious, yet penetrating look, willing him with her gaze to grasp the significance of what she was telling him.

The universe came to a screeching halt with those six deafeningly quiet words. Scotty could have sworn his heart stopped beating altogether, and he felt his eyes widening to approximately the size of dinner plates.

"Pregnant?" he tried to croak, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, make any sound come out of his mouth other than a strange, hideously embarrassing squeaking noise.

Fortunately, Kat didn’t notice. In fact, she didn’t even seem to be paying any attention to him anymore. Her eyes now riveted on her ginger ale, she issued another nervous laugh. "God, I must be the most fertile woman on the planet," she joked uncomfortably. "Eleven years of celibacy, and first crack outta the box? Bam. Stick turns blue."

Scotty was still standing there, staring at her in disbelief, completely flabbergasted. The floor had just been yanked out from beneath him by a cruel God who took some sort of perverse pleasure in watching him hurtle blindly through outer space, and all he could do was stare. He knew he should say something to Kat, he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t come up with anything to say, not with the way his thoughts had begun to whirl around in his mind, faster and faster, until they became a tornado, making him suddenly breathless and dizzy. He tried his damnedest to snatch some small bit of coherence out of the noisy, whirling chaos, but nothing would come, and as he felt the walls closing in, the room getting smaller and smaller…infinitely, frighteningly smaller…he knew he had to get out of there before the damn thing collapsed on him completely.

"Scotty?" he heard Kat ask, from what sounded like a million miles away.

He thought he might have managed to mumble an apology as he turned around and stumbled through the glass doors without a backward glance. He certainly hoped he had. But he had no way of being sure.

***

A while later, after driving aimlessly around the city, trying to make some sense, any sense, of what Kat had just told him, Scotty found himself parked on a bridge overlooking the Schuylkill River. It could’ve taken anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours to get there, he had no idea…nor was he sure why, exactly, his car had brought him to this particular spot. He guessed, though, that it was because one thought had finally managed to crystallize enough for him to snatch it out of the whirlwind and look at it…and he supposed that was why he was here, in this chillingly familiar place, on the bridge where Elisa had jumped to her death that cold day almost four years ago.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

That was the lone thought he’d managed to articulate.

It just…wasn’t supposed to be like this.

As he climbed out of the car, took a few trudging, reluctant steps, and leaned on the metal bridge railing with a sigh, staring into the grayish water of the river below that perfectly reflected the leaden December sky, that was the one snatch of coherence that kept ringing out, over and over, echoing in the chamber of his mind.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He was supposed to be having a baby with Elisa. They were supposed to be married, and happy, and living in a cozy little row house close to their families. And she was supposed to come bounding into the bedroom one morning with that little stick in her hand, squealing for joy as she pounced on him to wake him up. Or wrapping up a pair of baby booties and putting them on his place at the dinner table. Or giving him some cheesy "World’s Best Dad" coffee mug as a Christmas gift. Or whispering it in his ear one night after they made love. She was supposed to be alive, and whole, and healthy, and they were supposed to be together, dammit. He wasn’t supposed to be here, standing on a haunted, lonely bridge railing, staring into the murky waters that had claimed the woman he loved, trying to fill the gaping hole she’d left in his life with meaningless sex and drunken one-night stands.

Kat wasn’t supposed to be having his baby. Elisa was.

And that thought, for whatever reason, was cementing the truth in Scotty’s sinking heart…the truth that Elisa, his Bella, was really and truly gone. The life they’d dreamed of together for well over a decade would never happen. Ever.

Scotty knew that. Of course he knew that. Hell, his brain had known it for years…but as he stood there overlooking the water, his hands clinging to the last solid thing on Earth that had felt Elisa’s touch, he realized that his heart had never quite absorbed it. From the moment she’d first heard the voices, he’d doggedly dragged her to doctor after doctor, to drug after drug, in an increasingly futile attempt to get back what they’d had. Finally, Elisa herself had forced him to stop and accept the truth: she wasn’t going to get better. And once he finally stopped running and turned to look that truth square in the face… it was so painful that he’d had to break it off with her. He couldn’t keep hoping, couldn’t keep trying…not when she herself was giving up. He couldn’t ride the roller coaster with her anymore. He had to move on.

But if he hadn’t, he’d chastised himself over and over through the years, she might still be here. If he hadn’t left, if he hadn’t abandoned her, she might have called him that fateful morning when the giants came to claim her one final time. He might have been able to rush over to her apartment and calm her down, as he had thousands of times before. Failing that, he at least might have made it to the bridge just in time to yank her back before she jumped, or dive in after her and pull her to safety...

But he wasn’t there. He’d abandoned Elisa to her giants, and they’d finally won. They’d taken her from him. And if he hadn’t deserted her, if he hadn’t screwed up, then she’d still be here… and he wouldn’t be having a baby with Kat Miller.

Dammit, Valens, he griped inwardly, smacking the cold metal bridge railing with both hands, trying to blame the tears he suddenly felt stinging his eyes on the frigid wind and not his swirling emotions. The anguished memories threatening to overwhelm him, he forcefully shut the door on them, yet again…and then found his thoughts switching suddenly to his co-worker, his friend, the woman who’d be paying for his mistakes for the rest of her life. Kat was an innocent bystander caught in his crossfire. She’d needed a friend that night, and that’s all he’d intended to be, but a few drinks and a little vulnerability was all it took for him to make the same damn mistake he’d made so many times in his life. Would he never learn?

Kat already had a kid, he reminded himself bitterly. Already had an unplanned daughter from another jackass who’d taken advantage of her. She was already struggling to make ends meet, trying like hell to juggle work and family, her life was already complicated enough…and now she was stuck with a baby. His baby.

His baby.

Scotty froze as another thought began to crystallize. That was his child. Whether or not he or she would be born to Elisa, that child they’d dreamed of was suddenly a part of the world, growing quietly in the womb of his co-worker…his friend. A part of him was there, a part of that future, that family he’d always thought was out there. But now, despite everything, it wasn’t just ‘out there’ anymore…it was right here. Maybe it wasn’t ideal, maybe it wasn’t the best for anyone involved…but he could damn well try his best to make it better.

If she’ll ever speak to me again, he thought, with a heavy dose of cynicism and self-loathing. After the way he’d reacted in the lobby when she told him the news, he was suddenly certain that she never would, and he realized he wouldn’t blame her a bit. She’d tried her best, she’d told him as directly and honestly as she could…and he’d turned tail and run like the chickenshit he was. He’d abandoned Elisa, he’d abandoned Kat, and now, by default, he’d abandoned his own flesh and blood.

With a frustrated growl, Scotty launched himself away from the railing and back into the car, where he peeled away from the curb with a screeching of tires. He’d never been more furious with himself. His life was a mess, and he’d come to accept that, but now the lives of his good friend, and his child, were also a mess, because of his screw-ups. No matter what he did, they just kept happening, just kept snowballing, just kept getting worse and worse and fucking worse.

He didn’t get like this often, but when he did, he knew where to go. Knew what to do. The choking, burning anger was getting the better of him, making it impossible for him to think clearly, to try and figure out how to make the best of this situation, to make it so maybe Kat didn’t hate him, to determine some way she might let him in enough so he could help her raise their child. And he needed to think clearly to be able to do any of that.

So he went to the one place he knew he could count on having some time to think. The place he didn’t think anyone from work knew about. The place he’d been retreating to for years when things got to be more than he could handle, where no one knew who he was and no one cared, where he could indulge his anger, wallow in it, rejoice in it…and then get it out of his system. He’d always done his best thinking while he was in an isolated corner, breathing hard, drenched in sweat, beating the crap out of a punching bag. He was headed for the one place he could count on to get his thoughts and emotions and all the chaos in his life to resemble some kind of order.

He was headed for the gym.

Chapter Six

There Will Be No Divorce

"Daddy!" came an enthusiastic squeal, and Scotty looked up eagerly to see his daughter running through the office and toward his desk as fast as her chubby, two-year-old legs would carry her.

Lilly watched as a warm, brilliant smile spread across her partner’s face and he practically leaped from his chair to meet the little girl halfway. His joy was contagious, and Lilly found herself beaming right along with him. Sure, she’d seen Scotty smile, thousands of times, but the smile he got when he saw his daughter…there was absolutely nothing in the world like it. The sparkle in his eyes, the dazzling, ear-to-ear grin, the pure adoration and delight that radiated from his face…Scotty with his daughter was one of the most beautiful things Lilly had ever seen, and all she could do was put down her pen and look on proudly as he swept the dark-haired child into his arms and smothered her with kisses and Spanish endearments.

"Don’t you dare let her sweet-talk you," Kat ordered, a no-nonsense expression in her eyes as she came into the office after hanging up their coats on the rack in the hallway. "This is the same child who just got two days’ suspension from daycare for sinkin’ her teeth into Adam Valetti’s arm."

"Your DNA, Miller," Scotty replied jovially, before turning to his caramel-skinned, curly-haired daughter and trying his damnedest to affect the attitude of a firm disciplinarian. That sort of thing was no problem for him on the job, of course, but as a parent, Lilly knew it was a constant struggle for him. His daughter owned his heart, and everyone knew it…his daughter most of all.

"Hey," he began, his voice quiet but as stern as he could possibly make it, peering into the child’s warm brown eyes, eyes that were just like his. "What’s this I hear about you bitin’ some kid, huh?"

The little girl shrugged and smiled, her smile the spitting image of her mother’s, dimples and all. "Musta got what was comin’ to him," she replied casually, and Lilly had to stifle a giggle. Maybe the biting was from her mother…but that nonchalant sense of vigilante justice? That came straight from her daddy.

Scotty glanced over at Lilly just then and saw her watching him, the barely-repressed laughter twinkling in her blue eyes, and he knew without her even saying anything exactly what she’d found so amusing. In response, he quirked an eyebrow at her and flashed a brief lopsided grin before turning back to his daughter.

"You know that ain’t how we handle things, m’ija," he chided gently as he lowered the toddler to the ground and squatted so he was at her eye level. "We’re gonna talk about this a lot more when we get home, okay?" He fixed her with as stern an expression as he could muster, though it was a mere ghost of the scathing looks he gave suspects in the interview room, Lilly noticed, and after a moment, his daughter looked contrite.

"Okay," she agreed reluctantly, appropriately chastened, and then, as though nothing in the world were wrong, her eyes lit on an empty neighboring desk. Lilly followed the girl’s gaze and saw, to her endless amusement, that the tot was mesmerized with Vera’s half-eaten donut, which lay unattended on a napkin next to a mug of coffee.

"Snack time!" the toddler proclaimed cheerfully, launching herself over to Vera’s desk before either of her parents could blink, and this time Lilly couldn’t suppress her laughter. That precocious little girl had certainly livened up the bullpen in the last couple of years, she mused.

"Sweetheart," Scotty scolded lightly as he chased her toward the desk. "That’s Uncle Nicky’s donut." He glanced toward Kat for backup, but found her merely watching their daughter with a straight face, albeit a distinctly mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"’S’okay," she replied, shrugging nonchalantly, then returning her attention to the pile of paperwork on her desk with just the barest hint of a smile. "It is snack time."

"Yay!" the little girl cheered as she lifted the donut from its napkin and took a large, enthusiastic bite.

"Cute, Miller," Scotty grinned as he lifted their daughter into his arms, sat down at his desk, and settled her on his lap, ignoring the shower of sugar glaze that was rapidly beginning to adorn his clothing. "You’re usin’ our daughter as a pawn in your food fights with Vera."

Without even glancing up, Kat merely shrugged again, neither confirming nor denying Scotty’s accusation.

"Grandpa Stillman!" the little girl suddenly shrieked joyfully, leaping off her father’s lap, donut still in hand, and Lilly turned to see the lieutenant emerging from his office.

"Hey, I thought I heard a familiar voice," Stillman remarked with a wide grin as he crouched down to toddler level.

"She got suspended from daycare, Boss," Scotty explained apologetically. "We gotta keep her here for a couple hours ‘till Kat’s mom gets home from Bingo."

"Biting again?" Stillman asked, without even a moment’s hesitation to consider the alternatives.

"Mmm," was Kat’s noncommittal reply, and the boss chuckled.

"No problem," he replied, sweeping the child into his arms, then raising himself to his full height as she wrapped him in a childish hug. "I don’t mind watchin’ her for a bit." He studied the little girl, whose face was now smeared with sugar glaze.

"You need a drink to go with that donut?" he asked her. At her enthusiastic nod, he continued. "Well, you’re in luck! I got some juice boxes in the fridge just for you."

Kat glanced up, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sure you can handle that, Boss?" she asked, arching a brow.

"Absolutely," Stillman answered confidently.

Kat smiled warmly. "Meant the juice boxes," she amended.

Stillman grinned at the memory of his first encounter with a box of apple juice, when his grandson was visiting, and he’d had to summon Kat into the office to help him figure out how to open it. "We’ll see," he replied with a chuckle as he and the toddler headed into the kitchen.

Lilly couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips as she watched them depart, and Kat glanced up.

"What?" she asked, with a slight frown.

Scotty glanced at Lilly and read her expression. "Oh, me and Lil were just talkin’ about the day you told me my life was gonna change forever," he answered lightly.

"Oh, you mean the day you turned around and ran off, and I had to hunt you down and tear your sorry ass a new one?" Kat corrected, with a grin and a brief glare.

Scotty shrugged. "Potayto, potahto," he replied.

"So you did find him," Lilly commented, glancing over at Kat.

"Course I found him," Kat declared confidently. "You told me exactly where to look."

Mid-December, 2008

As Scotty fled through the glass double doors without so much as a backward glance, all Kat could do was stand and stare after him in utter disbelief. She’d known he’d be as surprised as she’d been, had no illusions that hearing the news of her pregnancy would be one of the bigger shocks of his life, which was why it had taken her so long, and why she’d tried so damn hard, to come up with the best possible way to break it to him. Not that there really was a good way to break that sort of news, she knew that full well…but, even so, she’d had no idea he’d just up and take off without even a word. Even Jarrod had had more of a reaction. Oh, he’d been lying through his teeth when he said he’d be around, as she soon found out the hard way…but at least he’d said something. At least he hadn’t just turned around and left her standing there, alone in a cold lobby with just a pathetic bottle of soda and a rising sense of helpless anger. She didn’t have the faintest clue what, exactly, she’d expected from Scotty, nor what she even wanted… but…sure as hell not that.

This was not what Rush had told her would happen, she griped inwardly. He was supposed to be different. He was supposed to be the good guy.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Silently fuming, she sipped the rest of her ginger ale, then, energized by her fury, she tossed the empty bottle into the trash with a loud clang and charged back into the office, suddenly wanting, more than anything, to just be done with all this crap and get on with the rest of her day. So that goddamn jackass Scotty Valens didn’t want anything to do with her or their child. Fine. Not like she hadn’t seen that coming from a thousand miles away. She could do this. She’d handled worse. She was Kat Miller, dammit. She could handle anything.

Thus fortified, she stormed back into the squad room just in time to see Stillman handing a file to Lilly.

"Scotty brought in another crazed fan this morning," the boss was explaining. "You and Will see what you can get outta this one. I got a feeling there’s more than just Lucy Stephens involved in the murder."

"Why isn’t Scotty in on this?" Lilly asked blankly as she leafed through the file.

"He’s takin’ some lost hours," Stillman informed her over the rim of his coffee mug. "Just got off the phone with him."

"Scotty’s gone?" Lilly blurted out, her brow furrowing as she glanced up at the lieutenant, and Kat felt her irritation increase. "He say why?"

Oh, Kat knew why. She knew exactly why. She just hadn’t expected him to ditch work, too.

"Personal reasons," Stillman answered with a slight shrug as he retreated back into his office. "That’s all I know."

Kat responded with a derisive snort. "Personal reasons my ass," she muttered. She hadn’t intended anyone to hear her, but Lilly apparently did, because she whirled around, file in hand, and glanced quickly around the squad room to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard.

"Did you tell him?" she asked softly.

"Oh, yeah," Kat replied with a glare, her voice trembling with quiet fury. "I told him."

"And?" Lilly pressed, undaunted.

"And…he gawped at me for a couple seconds, then turned around and ran. Just like they all do," Kat seethed, then laughed, a bitter, humorless chuckle. "Real stand-up partner you got there, Rush."

At this, she sensed her blonde colleague bristling, and Kat braced herself for what would no doubt be a flowery speech from Rush extolling the many virtues of Scotty Valens…but, to her surprise, that wasn’t what she got.

Lilly’s porcelain features were heavy with disappointment. "I can’t believe he’s doing this again," she murmured, almost to herself.

"Doin’ what again?" Kat demanded heatedly. "How many times has he knocked a girl up and then disappeared without a word? Do I even wanna know how many bastard kids that son of a bitch has out there?" She knew she was overreacting, knew she was being irrational, but, at the moment, she couldn’t be bothered to care.

With a faraway look in her eyes, Lilly shook her head. She seemed deep in thought, and, for a moment, Kat wondered if Rush had even heard her.

"He’s probably off blaming himself," she mused reflectively, her gaze still focused on some distant point, and then, to Kat’s astonishment, Lilly started rummaging through her wallet, muttering to herself. After a few seconds’ search, she triumphantly pulled out a business card and handed it to Kat.

"Here," she said, and Kat gave the card a brief glance.

"Bubba’s Boxing Emporium?" she read with a frown, then returned her gaze to Lilly. "What the hell’s this?" she demanded.

"It’s where you can find him," Lilly explained, then, without another word, she pushed open the door to to the interview room, where Jeffries and their suspect were ready and waiting.

Still peering at the card, Kat considered her options for a few moments, then shrugged. What the hell? Scotty had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with her…so the least she could do was let him know she was perfectly fine with that arrangement.

***

Half an hour later, Kat had made her way to the gym. She yanked open the door and was immediately met by a thick wall of warm, humid air, the result of too many active bodies and the heating turned up just a smidge too high. Instantly, her ears were assaulted by some furious-sounding heavy-metal song she couldn’t place, and the stench of sweat and blood and the barbarity of boxing caused yet another wave of nausea to wash over her. Normally, she might have succumbed, but she had something far more important on her plate than damn pregnancy hormones, so she leaned against the cool cement wall, closed her eyes, and took a few deep breaths, driving the nausea away through sheer force of will. Then, satisfied that she could make it through the conversation with Scotty without losing her ginger ale, she opened her eyes again, composed herself, pushed down that niggling finger of fear that had been her constant companion since she’d peed on that damn stick, and set out to search for him.

"Sorry, ma’am," the skinny, messy-haired teenager behind the desk said as she swept past. "This is a members-only club."

"So’s Philly Homicide," Kat responded coolly, flashing her badge without even glancing in his direction, and, as she expected, she didn’t hear another peep out of the boy.

It didn’t take long to find Scotty. She could tell without even looking where he was, based on the sheer force of the punches being landed to a heavy bag in the corner. Completely enveloped in some kind of zone, he didn’t look up as she approached, and she doubted he was even aware that anyone was standing there. His eyes were locked fiercely on the bag, shooting fire at his imaginary opponent, his face set with determination and flushed with exertion, and rivers of sweat cascaded down the contours of his sculpted shoulders and muscular torso.

Another surge of irritation rose within Kat’s chest as she watched him land punch after punch, most punctuated with a primal grunt. Who the hell did he think he was, running off like some jackass coward to beat the shit out of a punching bag just because he was angry with her? And where the hell did he get off being angry with her in the first place? Wasn’t entirely her fault they were in this mess. It took two to tango, dammit.

Lilly’s words suddenly rose to the surface of Kat’s swirling thoughts, and as she continued to watch Scotty, she realized that, as usual, Rush was right. A careful study showed her that he seemed to be raining every punch, every growl, every ounce of his rage directly into his own soul, and with each percussive blow to the bag, her anger with him gradually began to fade as she saw the extent of his. Son of a bitch…he really was blaming himself.

"Sure hope whatever’s in your DNA that makes you do that is recessive," she remarked drily, and Scotty shot her a brief glare, one that told her that he didn’t exactly welcome her company, but she stood her ground.

"What the hell are you doin’ here?" he managed to gasp between punches.

"Thought I’d take up boxing," she shot back, her voice oozing sarcasm. "I hear it’s good for pregnant women."

Scotty glared at her again, but, rather than convince her to leave, that fierce look only made her more determined to stay. After a brief stare-down, he finally stopped, tossed the boxing gloves to the side, and leaned his hands on his knees, the sweat dripping off his chin and falling to the mat on the floor with gentle tapping sounds, his chest heaving frantically for each breath.

While waiting for him to recover, Kat glanced around and noticed a towel tossed on the floor next to a crumpled T-shirt and a gym bag, and she grabbed it and threw it at Scotty, who caught it reflexively and buried his face in it.

"You gotta stop this," she informed him coolly.

"Stop what?" he panted, his voice muffled by the towel.

"Stop…this," she repeated, punctuating her words with emphatic hand gestures. "Stop blamin’ yourself for this. There were two of us there that night, two of us drunk, two of us makin’ mistakes. You ain’t the only one who screwed up, and you don’t get to spend the rest of your life beatin’ yourself up over it."

"Well, what the hell do you want me to do?" he asked breathlessly as he scrubbed the sweat from his chest. "I screwed up the rest of your life…you’ve already got one kid with no dad…you got it tough enough…and I gotta let one night ruin all that." He looked up then, his eyes hard and bitter. "You don’t need me in your life screwin’ things up any more than I already have," he declared.

So that’s how he wanted to spin it. He wanted to play the "I’m not worthy" card, the "I’m not good enough" card. Make it look like walking away without a backward glance was the noble thing. At least it was different, Kat admitted with a touch of wry amusement. Scotty was at least pretending to be the good guy. Jarrod hadn’t even pretended. He’d just left.

But, whether Scotty truly believed what he said or not, whether he was using his history of screwing up as a get-out-of-jail-free card, or whether he genuinely, honestly thought she and the baby would be better off without him…the result was the same. He wanted out. He was making that perfectly clear, and that was just fine with her.

"Which is why I came to talk to you," Kat replied evenly. "I want you to know that I don’t need anything from you. Not a damn thing. I’ve done this before, and I can do it again. Besides, Veronica’s older now, she can help---"

She was startled, and couldn’t help jumping slightly, when Scotty cut her off by landing another vicious punch to the bag with a frustrated growl.

"Scotty, what the hell?" she demanded, facing him with her hands on her hips, hoping the anger in her voice covered up the fact that, though she’d never, in a million years, admit it to him, he was starting to scare her.

"So that’s it, then," he replied, his voice quiet, but trembling with an odd combination of fury, remorse, and…something that sounded suspiciously like grief. "You really are shuttin’ me out. I’m gonna come to work every day, watchin’ you get bigger and bigger, knowin’ that’s my kid in there, and then all you want from me is a check every month while the only thing I get to see of my own child is a picture on your desk? That’s what you want?" He was almost shouting now, and Kat glanced around nervously, but everyone was too busy punching their respective bags, or each other, to pay any attention to them.

"That’s…not what you want?" she asked incredulously.

"That’s…not what you want?" he inquired, draping the towel around his neck, sinking onto a nearby bench, and taking a swig from his water bottle.

Kat paused, her mind suddenly whirling with possibilities. It seemed he wanted to be there for the baby…but she’d heard that before, years ago…and she’d been dumb enough to believe it.

"You first," she ordered, her expression suddenly guarded as she folded her arms across her chest.

He looked up at her, with almost a sense of resignation in his eyes. "I was…kinda thinkin’ it might be nice for this baby to have a dad," he told her.

"Nice," she agreed tersely, "but not necessary."

Scotty glared at her briefly, but mixed with the irritation was a momentary flash of deep pain. "So…I suppose me tellin’ you that I really wanna be there for this kid…that won’t make any difference, either?"

Kat shrugged. "Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard it," she replied.

Scotty swirled the water bottle in nervous circles as he studied her for a moment, and she suddenly saw the flash of inspiration in his eyes. "This is ‘cause of Jarrod, ain’t it?" he guessed, far more correctly than she’d have liked for him to be able to at a moment’s notice. "You think ‘cause he let you down, I will, too, is that it?"

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. She saw the triumph cross his face for the briefest of instants before he decided to hide it again. That triumph irked her, and she lashed out before she could decide whether or not it was a good idea.

"I ain’t gonna let you use this baby as a weapon in a pissin’ contest with Jarrod, okay?" she snapped. "You don’t have to pretend you’re somebody you’re not just ‘cause you wanna prove you’re a better guy than he is."

Scotty looked aghast for a moment, then fixed her with one of his darker glares. "You think this is about you?" he asked, with a bitter chuckle. "You think this is about me wantin’ to be the hero?"

Truer words had never left his lips. "Ain’t it?" she challenged.

To her surprise, Scotty didn’t launch an angry verbal volley back at her. Instead, he paused, obviously wrestling with something, then sighed.

"Look…I never told anyone this before, okay? I ain’t exactly sure I wanna tell you, either, but… I’m gonna, ‘cause I don’t think I got a choice." He paused, lifted the towel to dab another few drops of sweat from his forehead, then took as deep a breath as he could muster and launched in.

"A few years back, before Elisa got sick…we, y’know…forgot one time…and she thought she might be pregnant." He glanced up at her to gauge her reaction. "And I gotta be honest with you… it scared the shit outta me. I mean, we were about to be engaged, we wanted kids, but…I wasn’t ready, she wasn’t ready…it just…it wouldn’ta been a good time, y’know? And a few days later, she found out she wasn’t, and I was real relieved, yeah…but I was also…disappointed. Like…real disappointed. More than I ever thought I could be. It…" he trailed off, shaking his head, then continued, "…kinda made me wanna have kids, y’know?" he asked.

He sighed shakily, then continued, his eyes suddenly warm and shining with something Kat couldn’t quite place. "When she died…I realized that’d prob’ly never happen, and that bummed me out a lot more than I wanted to admit. And now…now I got a second chance," he said earnestly. "It ain’t ideal, it ain’t the best for anyone involved, prob’ly…but I got a kid."

Scotty looked up at her then, his expression suddenly almost angry, yet laced with an undercurrent of sadness. "And you think I just wanna walk away and have nothin’ to do with ‘em? Hell, no. That kid you got inside you is my flesh, my blood, my family…and that ain’t somethin’ I take lightly," he declared.

Kat’s eyes widened in amazement as she sank down on the bench next to Scotty. She’d never expected to hear this from him. Not after their encounter that morning. Not after Jarrod. Not after…anything she’d ever experienced in her entire life. She’d heard pretty words before…but she was beginning to believe, despite her brain shrieking at her not to, that maybe, just maybe, he meant them. If he didn’t…then he was a much better actor than she’d ever imagined.

"If you want me outta this," Scotty continued, "then…I guess that’s your call, but you gotta know that I ain’t gonna like it. But…if you want me…I’ll be as in this as you want me to be. You want me to rub your back, or run out at two AM and get you Thai food, or kick the ass of anyone who touches your belly...then I’ll be there. Diapers, feedin’s, storytime, whatever. We got into this together…and I figure whether it’s your fault or my fault or both our faults…it sure as hell ain’t that baby’s fault. Kids deserve a mom and a dad…this one shouldn’t have to suffer ‘cause his parents are idiots." He stopped and looked up at her, and she couldn’t miss the earnest sincerity in his dark eyes as he lifted the water bottle to his lips and took another grateful sip.

"You better as hell not be doin’ this outta obligation," she informed him gruffly, still regarding him with a good deal of suspicion.

He started to protest, but she cut him off. "Havin’ a child…there’s nothin’ like it, no way to prepare for it, no way to predict what it’s gonna do to your life," she warned, imploring him with her eyes to understand the earth-shattering magnitude of what he was signing up for. "This ain’t just some project, Valens, it ain’t some case that you obsess over for a few days, and then close up the box, put it on the shelf, and forget about it. This is a child. Another human being. You wanna be in this, you’re signin’ up for a lifetime of bein’ a dad."

"I know," Scotty replied, meeting her eyes with the most honesty and sincerity she’d ever seen from anyone. "And…I hope you’ll let me," he finished softly.

Kat stood up and began to pace the mat in stunned silence, her mind whirling with what Scotty had just told her. She made a practice of not trusting people, of not allowing anyone to get close to her, of not allowing anyone in. But, hell, that had fallen by the wayside with half a bottle of wine two months earlier, and she had to admit that, despite his methods, Scotty had given her exactly what she needed. He’d proven himself as a loyal friend…and now he was offering to completely alter his life to offer the new life blooming within her what Veronica had never had: a father. And, Kat realized, to her astonished chagrin, she actually wanted him to do that. Wanted him to be there. For the baby.

In fact, to her abject horror…she was rapidly discovering that she was dangerously close to needing him to be there. With Veronica, she’d been in uniform, working far fewer hours than she was now, and had been living with her mother. Even then, with all the help her mother had provided, it had been more overwhelming than anything she’d ever experienced. Nothing in the world could have prepared her for all she experienced during pregnancy, childbirth, and the exhilarating, terrifying, exhausting first few months of motherhood. Even now, a decade removed from that experience, all those old emotions came flooding back as strong and as fresh as though Veronica had arrived yesterday, and Kat had to fight tooth and nail to keep them from taking over completely. Damn hormones, she muttered inwardly, through clenched teeth.

As she stood there, debating whether or not she could afford to gamble on Scotty, she realized, with great reluctance, that she really didn’t have a choice. She was Veronica’s whole world, and, in her darker moments, she sometimes felt like she’d crumble under the pressure…and to do that with another child? She was terrified to trust Scotty…but even more terrified not to. Unless he stepped up to the plate, she’d be juggling a teenager, a baby, and a career in Homicide…and with all she knew of what was to come, she was forced to admit that that might be just one too many things to juggle. Even for her.

Still deep in thought, she glanced up again to see Scotty watching her, earnest hope shining in his warm brown eyes, studying her carefully for any hint of a reaction. For a second, she almost felt sorry for him. He was so naïve, so adorably clueless as to what being a father would really entail…yet he’d meant what he said. At least, he truly believed he did. The look in his eyes told her that he knew he didn’t have a clue what he was doing, but she’d never seen such honest yearning in anyone’s eyes before. Maybe he didn’t know what the hell he was getting himself into, but his expression told her unequivocally that he wanted to try. So she supposed the least she could do was give him the benefit of the doubt, to let him be there, to see just how set on being a father he really was.

No time like the present to start, she thought, as she grabbed his sweaty Eagles T-shirt from the floor. Besides, if he got tired of it and split, which her embittered heart was sure he still would, somewhere between the first diaper and the terrible twos…but whatever help he’d give her before that, she’d accept. For the baby.

"Workout’s over," she declared, her words punctuated by the slap of the shirt against Scotty’s chest as she tossed it at him. "Take a shower, get dressed, and get your keys. You’re takin’ me out for Indian food."

Blinking in surprise, Scotty stared at her for a moment, then got to his feet. "I…hate Indian food," he replied uncertainly.

"Hell, I hate it, too," Kat agreed with a slight smile. "But your offspring has just informed me that that’s the only thing I can eat for dinner that won’t make me puke all over your shoes."

Scotty’s eyes widened as he absorbed the truth of what she was telling him. "You…want me to be there…" he said slowly, thoughtfully, almost as though he couldn’t quite believe his ears.

"I want you to be there." she agreed. I need you to be there, she added silently.

After a moment, Scotty’s face broke into a wide, grateful smile, and they gazed at each other for a moment before Kat decided that all this honesty and sharing and all that other crap had gotten rather uncomfortable.

"Now get your ass in the shower," she ordered, her voice suddenly in full possession of its usual snarky edge. "I’m hungry."

"You got it," he agreed, slinging the T-shirt over his shoulder and grabbing his gym bag. Halfway to the locker room, he stopped and glanced back at her with a rueful grin and a shake of his head.

"Indian food?" he asked, arching a brow. "You serious, Miller?"

"Fun’s just beginnin’, Valens," she called cheerfully.

Chapter Seven

How to Embrace a Swamp Creature

Lilly arched a skeptical brow in Scotty’s direction as her blue eyes widened in surprise.

"What?" Scotty asked, somewhat defensively.

"You…ate Indian food?" she pressed, her voice shot through with disbelief.

Scotty shrugged. "Yeah," he replied. "I did. So what?"

"You hate Indian food," Lilly pointed out, glancing incredulously from Scotty to Kat and back again. "I could fill a book with how many times I’ve heard you complain about it. The idea of curry makes you gag like an eight-year-old in the school lunchroom when they’re servin’ Tuna Surprise."

"Hey, that’s what my daughter wanted to eat," he retorted. "Who am I to argue with her?"

Kat snorted derisively. "That’s half our problem, Valens," she muttered as she dashed through the last few lines of a form. "You never argue with her. About anything." She chuckled, then glanced up once more. "Your ass is completely useless," she declared.

"Useless?" Scotty repeated, with a confident, mischievous grin and a teasing expression in his eyes, one that almost dared Kat to meet them. "Aw, c’mon, now…there’s a lotta things I’m good for."

Sure enough, she glanced up from her work, shot him a glare, and said nothing, and Scotty chortled in triumph. Anytime she was silent, anytime she didn’t have a trademark sarcastic retort…that meant he’d scored a point. He’d learned, over the years, to take joy in those rare silences.

"You’re so damn full of yourself," Kat muttered, half under her breath. "Apartment ain’t big enough for you and your ego." Defiantly, she scrawled her signature at the bottom of the form she’d been working on and tossed it into the case file. "Besides," she added, looking back up at Scotty, "ain’t like I needed you to move in."

"Oh, yeah?" Scotty shot back with a self-satisfied smirk as he leaned back in his chair and triumphantly folded his arms across his chest. "Well, if I hadn’t…then who’da killed that spider last night?"

Kat glared murderously at Scotty, but, undaunted, he simply kept smirking, while Lilly stifled a giggle. Miller…perhaps the most fearless of them all…was afraid of spiders?

"Hey, I coulda killed that damn thing myself," Kat grumbled in reply, then seemed to fumble for an explanation. "It was just…too high up on the wall. You’re taller. It made more sense for you to do it."

"Oh, I see," Scotty replied smoothly, his grin widening even more and his eyes twinkling with a curious mixture of amusement and something else. Lilly couldn’t quite place it, but she knew she’d never seen it from him before. "So…that horror-movie scream was, what, for show?" he continued, his voice light and teasing.

"Valens, I swear to God---" Kat began threateningly, but she was cut off by Vera’s arrival in the office.

"Oh, tell me I heard that right," he implored them all, eagerly searching their faces as a mischievous smile spread across his own. "Tell me I just heard solid evidence that Kat Miller…the badass of Homicide… is afraid of a little bitty spider."

Kat looked around helplessly at her amused co-workers. "I ain’t afraid of ‘em," she sputtered in protest. "Just hate ‘em is all."

"This is beyond awesome," Vera enthused, ignoring both Scotty’s laughter and the homicidal glare Kat was now shooting both of them. "This is the best day ev---" he started to proclaim, but suddenly, upon reaching his desk, stopped dead in his tracks.

"Hey, what the---?" he interjected, glancing over the cluttered surface of his workspace, shoving aside empty coffee mugs and lifting up haphazard piles of papers and fast-food wrappers, all with a puzzled, quizzical expression on his face, then looked up, his confusion turning to narrow-eyed suspicion as he studied each of his colleagues in turn.

"All right, which one of you clowns stole my donut?" he demanded.

Lilly burst out laughing, the giggles she’d been trying to stifle for the last few minutes finally spilling forth. Vera glanced at her, instantly ruled her out as a suspect, then turned his attention to Kat and Scotty. Knowing one of them was surely responsible, he studied the pair carefully. His gaze settled momentarily on Kat before a thought occurred to him, and Lilly watched as his expression slowly changed from suspicion to horror, his eyes widening with something akin to fright.

"She’s here again, ain’t she?" Vera demanded, looking around wildly. "Ain’t she?"

"Oh, relax, Nick," Lilly instructed as she surreptitiously wiped tears of laughter from beneath her eyes, the mirth still readily apparent in her voice. "She’s in the kitchen with Boss."

"What’s she doin’ here, anyway?" Vera asked blankly, then realization dawned and he turned his attention to the girl’s parents. "Oh, for the love of God, what’d your demonic offspring do this time?" he asked, sounding simultaneously incredulous and weary.

Scotty didn’t reply, just grinned and arched a brow pointedly at Kat. "Yeah, Miller," he added with elaborate casualness, looking over at her again with that strange twinkle in his eyes. "What did she do this time?"

"Nothin’," Kat snapped in reply, but at the skeptical expression from Vera and the amused look from Scotty, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. She bit some kid," she admitted, glaring at them both. "You happy now?"

"Biting?" Vera repeated in disbelief. "She’s biting again?"

"Yep," Scotty proclaimed, smirking almost proudly. "That Miller DNA’s some damn stubborn stuff, apparently."

"You better shut it," Kat argued, trying to sound vicious, but not quite able to hide the grin that tugged at the corners of her lips, "now, or your ass is sleepin’ on the futon tonight."

Lilly’s eyes snapped open in surprise, and the continuation of Scotty and Kat’s bickering quieted to a background hum as her mind whirled with the possibilities. Did Miller just…threaten Scotty…with the futon? That would imply that the two were somehow sharing a bed. The fact that Scotty and Kat were roommates was common knowledge; they’d lived together since before their daughter was even born. But sharing a room? A bed? When the hell had that happened?

Alarmed, Lilly shot an inquisitive glance in Vera’s direction, to see if perhaps he’d picked up on the implication, and if he cared to join her in her interrogation of the pair, but, to her consternation, and amusement, he was too busy frantically digging through a desk drawer.

"Nick," Lilly began gently, chuckling to herself as his head disappeared from view. "It’s not in there."

"Oh, I know it’s not," Vera blustered, his voice strangely echoing around the metal chamber of the large drawer. "I’m lookin’ for somethin’ else."

Lilly frowned as she watched Vera continue to dig, then her frown deepened when he issued a triumphant "Aha!" and shut the desk drawer with great vigor, plopping a pair of latex gloves onto his desk.

Spying the gloves, Kat arched a brow at him. "You don’t gotta run prints, Fatass," she informed him. "You know perfectly well what happened to that donut."

Vera shot her a brief glare and picked up the gloves. "Damn right I do," he said defiantly, poking his right hand into a glove.

"Then what the hell you need gloves for?" Scotty asked, frowning in confusion.

Vera didn’t answer, just wriggled his left hand into the remaining glove. "No way in hell she can bite through latex," he announced, punctuating his declaration by letting the glove slap against his flesh with a defiant snap, then glared at the room in general before turning and striding purposefully toward the kitchen. "I’m gonna go get my donut back."

Lilly dissolved into giggles again, while Kat merely stared after him incredulously, and Scotty’s eyes began to sparkle anew with repressed laughter.

"Trust me, Nicky," he called after his colleague. "You ain’t gonna want it now."

"We’ll see," Vera muttered as he reached the doorway. "And if you’re right…" he began, then paused, turned around, and glanced meaningfully from Scotty to Kat, "…then you two owe me a new donut."

"Worth it," Kat shot back, but he ignored her, the dark cloud of indignation following close behind.

"So…" Lilly began nonchalantly as soon as Vera disappeared. "Futon, huh?"

The silence that followed her oh-so-casual inquiry was deafening, as she’d suspected it might be. Without even looking up, Lilly could feel the awkward hesitation from Scotty, as well as the sudden defensive bristling from Miller. She could tell in a heartbeat that Miller’s sharing of that particular aspect of their…whatever the hell it was…had been purely unintentional, and also that Scotty had been startled, both by the fact that Kat had let that detail slip and the fact that Lilly had noticed, though she knew he wasn’t entirely surprised by the latter. She didn’t miss anything, especially when it came to him, and Scotty knew that.

Lilly watched as Scotty and Kat exchanged an inscrutable glance, and then Kat rose from her desk. "I’m…gonna go make sure Nicky doesn’t come to blows with our daughter over a damn donut," she muttered as she swept past, avoiding Lilly’s gaze entirely.

Scotty glanced up to see Lilly’s sapphire eyes sparkling with an almost girlish curiosity, much as they did when they took the lid off a new evidence box, and heaved a sigh of great reluctance. He had no idea how much Kat was willing to let him share about their arrangement, nor was he sure how much he wanted to share in the first place…but his annoyingly persistent partner wasn’t going to let this go, not in a million years, and, as he sat there pondering his options, he eventually, to his chagrin, settled for the solution that so many doers had over the years when faced with those same penetrating blue eyes: the sooner he came clean, the better.

"Look," he began carefully, "it…kinda started when she was born, okay? I didn’t think it was fair for Kat to have to do all the work at night…so I moved into her room to help with diapers and all that."

"Well, that explains back then…" Lilly remarked casually, as she took a sip from her coffee mug.

"Yeah," Scotty agreed lightly. "Just temporary," he added, praying fervently that Lilly wouldn’t make a mountain out of a molehill, as was her tendency with such things.

"But…" Lilly pressed gently, lowering her eyes to the desk and pretending she was interested in nothing more than the vehicle registration records she was searching.

Dammit. "But…it wasn’t, okay?" he replied, his casual shrug unable to hide the slight irritated edge to his voice. "That girl’s anything but a quiet sleeper," he insisted. "She needed her own room so the rest of us could get some sleep."

Lilly studied him carefully, giving him the same once-over she gave suspects in the interview room, and he resisted the urge to squirm in his seat, even though, unlike those scumbags, he had nothing to hide.

"Uh-huh," she finally replied, and Scotty’s hackles were instantly up even more than they already were. He hated that tendency of hers with a fiery passion. Hated the fact that with two simple, skeptical, nonsensical syllables, she could shoot holes through even the most carefully crafted of arguments. Which, admittedly, this was not. Truth be told, Scotty had no idea why he was still sleeping in Kat’s room, other than that it was just…comfortable. It was home. It was where he belonged. It was just the way things were. Whatever Lil’s overactive imagination thought was going on simply wasn’t, and he wished she’d just drop it.

"What the hell’s that supposed to mean?" he demanded gruffly, turning back to his paperwork.

"Nothin’," Lilly replied innocently. "Hell, I’m still surprised the two of you have lived together for three years and haven’t killed each other yet."

Scotty resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed, for the moment anyway, that he was off the hook. "Hey, miracles happen," he chortled in response.

Late January, 2009

The remainder of Kat’s first trimester passed almost without a hitch. After agreeing that they were in this together, the blanket of easy camaraderie they’d always known settled over them once more, layered with a new closeness that they both explored with a sweetly tentative, uncharacteristic shyness. To be honest, Scotty had expected things between them to still be awkward as they figured out the nuts and bolts of how things would work between the two of them, and they occasionally were, but, for the most part, things went smoothly. Oh, sure, they had their squabbles, namely Kat’s independence and her trump card that she had, in fact, been through all this before pitted squarely against Scotty’s natural tendency to worry, his guilt over her pregnancy symptoms (and the fact that, no matter how vociferously she argued, they were entirely his fault), and the unassailable truth that he hadn’t done this before. Despite the fact that he could count on at least one of his vast collection of female relatives being pregnant at any given moment, he had very little up close and personal experience with the ins and outs of life with an expectant mother…so he didn’t have a clue what the hell he was doing. Fortunately for everyone involved, Kat was direct, and although her orders for him to back off sometimes stung a bit, Scotty welcomed them anyway. He wanted to do the right thing, dammit, and, beyond that, he wanted to do it in the right way. So he was eternally grateful that Kat was helping him in his endeavors.

In addition to trying to figure out how to best handle things with her, Scotty was trying desperately to wrap his mind around the reality that he would, in a few short months, become a father. Being Uncle Scotty to his niece and nephew and the swarms of small, excitable relatives that constantly swirled around him at family gatherings was fun, and he loved every minute of it…but being a dad? He didn’t have any idea how the hell to do that, either, so he was grateful he had several months to come to terms with it. Right now, fatherhood was still simply too huge, to abstract, to accept in any kind of real sense. Though Kat’s nausea, fatigue, moodiness, and aversion to coffee still lingered, they’d improved drastically, and many days, she acted just like she always had. The casual observer would never know she was growing a new life inside her, and this made it all but impossible for Scotty to really absorb the truth…until one chilly Friday at the very end of January, when she’d invited him to come with her for the first ultrasound.

Scotty hadn’t been sure what to expect at all, and he’d politely averted his gaze when the technician instructed Kat to lift her shirt and expose her still-flat belly, though he felt her rolling her eyes at him and muttering that it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. She was right, of course, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before…but he still thought he should probably be a gentleman. First time for everything, Valens, his brain snarked at him.

He snapped back to attention, though, when the technician chuckled softly. "Well, there’s your baby," she announced, and Scotty’s eyes suddenly riveted on the small screen suspended from the ceiling.

The image puzzled him to no end. Its black background was smeared all over with fuzzy white blobs that constantly faded in and out, and, though he strained and squinted and tried his damnedest…he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out which of those blobs was the baby. To be honest, none of them looked like a baby. Not even a little bit. But he didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to come across as a complete idiot. After all, Kat had done this before, and the technician did this every single day of her life. They knew what they were looking at. He didn’t. So he supposed he should just be content with the fact that one of those blobs, though he still had no freakin’ idea which one, was his offspring, the next generation of his family…his child. His flesh and blood. One of those blobs. Goddammit, which one?

"Wow," Kat breathed, and Scotty tore his eyes from the screen just long enough to brave a glance in her direction. "These things sure have changed since I was pregnant with V."

"Haven’t they?" the technician enthused, then moved a mouse arrow over a centrally-located blob. "There’s the head…there’s two arms…one, two legs…" she explained, moving the pointer over the screen and circling the areas she named.

Scotty stared intently at that little mouse arrow…and lo and behold, as the technician pointed them out…he really could see them. There was a head…there were two arms and two legs…holy mother of God, there really was a baby there. An actual, honest-to-God baby. His baby. His baby. His…baby…

"Catchin’ flies, Valens?" Kat asked, though her voice was warm and rich with some of the purest happiness he’d ever heard from her. Finally managing to scrape his jaw from the floor, he glanced down at her and noticed, to his pleasant surprise, that her coffee-colored eyes shone bright with a thin layer of unshed tears. As he glanced from Kat to the screen and back again, his own vision blurred and he wondered briefly if her No Touching rule was still in effect, because he suddenly wanted nothing more than to…

…but he didn’t even get to finish his thought before he felt her small hand slip into his, almost shyly, as though she wasn’t sure the gesture would be welcomed, and he hastily reassured her with a gentle squeeze. It was the most welcome thing he’d ever felt in his life, he decided, as he blinked furiously, swallowed hard, and focused his attention once more on that tiny black screen, and the fuzzy white blob that was his baby.

"There’s the heartbeat," the technician announced softly, and turned up the volume on the ultrasound machine.

The first thought that registered to Scotty, as he listened to that peculiar, yet instantly memorable sound, was that it didn’t sound anything like a heartbeat. Hell, it was a lot like the sound effects from that stupid video game he’d been addicted to as a kid. It was steady and almost alarmingly fast, though, he noticed with wry amusement, the frantic rhythm of his own heart wasn’t much slower. That unforgettable sound echoing around the tiny room…that fast, whooshing, alien sound…that was his child’s heartbeat.

He glanced down again at Kat and saw her exhale a long, shaky breath, one he didn’t know she’d been holding.

"Guess that means the miscarriage risk is down, huh?" she ventured, trying to keep her voice light as she turned toward the technician, and Scotty knew she would have fooled most people. Most…but not someone who knew her well. Holy mother of God, he realized, Kat Miller had been scared.

"Less than five percent now," the technician agreed cheerfully, clicking around and scribbling notes in Kat’s chart, and Scotty glanced at her again in utter amazement. He’d had no idea that the possibility that she might lose the baby was even there, let alone that it had obviously been worrying her a great deal. No idea whatsoever. His heart ached with sympathy at the burden she’d been carrying, followed closely by a surge of irritation that she hadn’t shared it with him, that she hadn’t let him help her through it…but that was swallowed up by an overwhelming warmth at the realization that she already loved that little baby so much. His baby. And hers.  Their baby.

Scotty couldn’t believe it. Feeling that all-too-familiar stinging sensation in his eyes again, he longed to envelop Kat in a bear hug, but he didn’t know how she’d feel about that, so he settled for giving her hand another squeeze, and was elated when she beamed up at him and squeezed back.

They really were doing this. They really were in this together.

They really were having a baby.

***

Scotty didn’t know whether the ultrasound was the driving force behind what he did two weeks later or whether it was merely one of many factors…but, whatever the reason, it had just seemed like the right thing to do.

That morning, he’d strolled into the office without a care in the world, ready to launch into another day of sweeping the streets clean of their scum. Dropping his things off at his desk, he greeted his co-workers and then headed for the kitchen for a much-needed cup of coffee.

Upon entering, he became aware of some low, vaguely irrational muttering coming from the table in the center of the room, and he glanced down to see Kat settled down with a steaming mug of coffee and a chocolate-glazed donut. In the past couple of weeks, her coffee aversion had disappeared, but she was confined to drinking decaf only, which irritated her to no end. For a brief moment, Scotty assumed that was the source of her consternation, as he simply couldn’t imagine doing their job without a steady stream of caffeine flowing through his veins…but then he saw the newspaper spread out on the table in front of her and the red pen in her hand, with which she was either drawing circles or scratching defiant X’s through various…were those…classified ads? For what?

"Everythin’ okay?" he asked lightly as he reached up to grab his favorite mug from the shelf next to the fridge. He didn’t really expect a reply, so he was surprised when Miller heaved a gusty, exasperated sigh and shoved the paper toward the center of the table in a fit of frustration.

"Damn real estate market," she muttered as she took an aggressive bite out of her donut.

"Real estate?" Scotty repeated blankly, glancing at her over his shoulder as he poured the steaming brew into his mug. "You movin’?"

"Tryin’ to," she replied, tossing a few locks of hair behind her shoulder in a fit of irritation. "But I can’t afford anything bigger than a shoebox."

Scotty lowered himself into the seat across the table from her. "Mind if I take a look?" he asked casually, and she studied him critically for a moment, then shrugged and tossed him her pen, which he caught a mere fraction of an inch before it decorated his crisp white shirt.

"Be my guest," she said, glaring at the offending advertisements as she hoisted herself from the chair and stormed out of the kitchen. "I gotta go pee again."

After she left, Scotty sipped his coffee and perused the classifieds, not quite sure what he was looking for, and also not quite sure whether or not he should trust the harebrained idea that had suddenly begun to form in his mind. He squinted to read through some of Kat’s chicken scratches, and it took some doing, but by the time she returned to her seat, having poured herself a fresh mug of coffee and grabbed a second donut (which would, of course, piss off Vera to no end when he found out about it), the idea, harebrained or not, was fully formed and halfway out of his mouth.

"What about this one?" he suggested, handing the paper back to her and indicating an ad with the tip of the pen.

"Three bedroom, two-and-a-half bath townhome, close to downtown, convenient to train stop, huge closets, fireplace, wood floors…" she trailed off, her eyes flashing with irritation, but also with the barest hint of wistfulness. It was brief, and she hid it quickly, but the fact that she’d let him see it at all made Scotty even more determined to convince her of his, still possibly harebrained, idea.

"Sounds great," she snapped, then shoved the paper back toward Scotty. "Can’t afford it."

"No…but we can," he replied evenly, returning the ad to the center of the table, where it lay there, enveloped in the thick, suspenseful silence that had settled over the kitchen.

After a few seconds, Scotty braved a glance in Kat’s direction to try to gauge her response. Admittedly, it was exactly what he’d expected. At first, her eyes were wide in disbelief, but as she met his gaze, the disbelief faded as her trademark withering glare moved firmly into place to block whatever else he might have seen.

"I ain’t a goddamn charity case, Valens," she insisted peevishly. "You’re doin’ enough. I don’t need you to send me a rent check when you can’t even---"

"That’s not what I meant," Scotty argued, his voice rising, and he took a deep breath and forced himself to keep calm. She looked across the table at him expectantly, almost challenging him to explain to her satisfaction exactly what the hell he did mean, and he met her gaze unflinchingly. "What I meant was…with what I’m payin’ for rent, and what you’re prob’ly payin’, if we pool it together, I think we could get this place."

Her eyes widened again, first with something intensely guarded, like she was sizing him up, unsure of whether or not he was serious, then amazement, then, before that even had a chance to register, the withering glare was back.

"Uh-huh," she replied. "You wanna give up your swingin’ bachelor pad to move in with me, a pre-teen, and a baby? Good one, Valens. You come up with that all by yourself?"

"Dammit, Miller," he snapped. "I’m serious."

"I told you I don’t need you to feel sorry for me," she retorted heatedly.

Scotty sighed in frustration. Of course she didn’t. And that wasn’t what this was. Well, okay, it was partially what it was. With anyone else, he griped inwardly, a magnanimous gesture like the one he was offering to make would have been welcomed with open arms, and he silently cursed the fact that he’d wound up with the one woman on the planet for whom that didn’t apply. But, he suddenly realized, if being nice didn’t work…well…the opposite stood a chance.

Decision made, he laughed mirthlessly. "Don’t flatter yourself, Miller," he ordered, shooting her a glare. "It ain’t ‘cause I feel sorry for you. Hell, it ain’t even about you. It’s ‘cause my lease is up in a month, and I’ve been lookin’ for an excuse to move outta that rat hole for weeks."

He looked down at the newspaper, chuckled again, and then continued. "Hell, I got one set of neighbors that listen to country twenty-four/seven, and the other set can’t cook a damn thing without a cup and a half of curry in it. I’m sick of the ceiling bein’ so thin I can hear every word of every conversation from the people above me, I’m sick of only gettin’ about five minutes of hot water in the mornin’ before the damn thing runs ice-cold the rest of the day, and I’m sick of the lazy-ass landlord that takes six weeks to fix anything…but I can’t afford anything better, either. Not ‘till this came along. And now I got a chance to live someplace nice, with three people I care about, one of whom’s my own goddamn child, Miller. I ain’t doin’ this for you. You got nothin’ to do with it. I’m doin’ it for me."

He stopped then, forcing himself to slow his breathing and regain some measure of his composure. All those things he’d said…well…they were at least half-true. He was doing this partially for himself. He did get annoyed with his neighbors and his landlord, and wished that he didn’t always have to time his showers down to the second, and he had idly perused the classifieds from time to time, but he’d never been serious enough to do anything about it…not until now.

But this child was his family, and he realized, during the ensuing silence as Kat pondered what he’d just said, that he wanted nothing more than to make this work. He wanted to live with his child, wanted to be able to help Kat any way he could. She had a need, a very real, practical need, one that was a good bit his fault in the first place…and he ached to fill it.

He just hoped she couldn’t see that.

Kat studied him for a moment, and as intimidating as her scrutinizing gaze was, he refused to allow himself to back down, barely even to blink. He met her piercing dark eyes with an even, sincere expression that he hoped conveyed nothing more than a desire to enter into an arrangement that made practical, logical, and financial sense.

The silence between them stretched for eons, and Scotty was glad she couldn’t see how fast his heart was beating as he waited for her decision. Resisting the urge to squirm under the steely gaze that had brought many a doer to his knees, he poured every ounce of effort he could into keeping his face calm, and keeping those damn "save the damsel in distress" urges the hell out of it. That’s what got your sorry ass into this mess in the first place, his brain reminded him.

"I’m a terrible roommate," she finally told him, her expression still closely guarded. "I don’t cook, I don’t clean, I barely remember to pay the bills…and the baby’s just gonna make things worse."

"I ain’t much of a cook, but I can get by," he replied coolly. "And I shared a room with Mike for fifteen years. I’ll bet you anything he was messier than you."

Kat arched a skeptical brow, but didn’t argue.

"V’s always had her own room," she continued. "That ain’t changin’."

"Fine by me," Scotty agreed.

"And the second I see one of those damn floozies you bring home from the bar paradin’ around in her unmentionables, I swear to God I’m throwin’ your ass out," she threatened darkly.

"Well, the last floozy I brought home from a bar was…you," he retorted with a smirk before he could think better of it, "so I guess that means you always gotta be fully clothed."

His eyes twinkling with amusement, disguising the sudden fear coursing through his veins, he waited for a brief, nerve-wracking moment for Kat’s reaction. She sat in stunned silence for a second, then, much to his relief, the trace of a grin began to tug at the corners of her mouth, soon blossoming into a wide smile, her eyes sparkling with self-deprecating mirth, and Scotty was elated.

"’Sides, I ain’t plannin’ on doin’ that with kids in the house, anyway," he informed her, the tension now fully dissolved. "I got a date, we’ll go to her place."

"Fair enough," Kat agreed, then eyed him with suspicion, though slightly less than before. "I sure as hell hope you know what you’re gettin’ yourself into," she warned him.

"Life with a woman, a baby, and an about-to-be-teenager?" he replied with a grin. "Hell, no. S’why you’re bunkin’ with the baby and I’m gettin’ my own room."

"Deal," she agreed with a smile, lifting her mug of coffee. "Long as V’s okay with it."

"Okay, then," Scotty replied casually, clinking his mug against hers. Their eyes met briefly, and he began to entertain a glimmer of hope that this crazy idea just might work after all.

Chapter Eight

Orange Ball of Hate

"Everythin’ okay in there?" Scotty asked, glancing up as Kat returned to the squad room.

Grinning broadly, Kat shook her head in amazement. "You’re not gonna believe this," she began, her eyes sparkling with humor and more than a touch of maternal pride. "That girl’s got Boss and Nicky playin’ tea party with her."

Lilly burst out laughing, the mental image of Nick Vera and John Stillman sipping imaginary tea from tiny cups proving to be far too much.

"Yeah, well…that’s our girl," Scotty proclaimed, with a rueful smile.

"Sounds like she’s got ‘em wrapped around her little finger," Lilly observed.

"Ain’t the only ones she’s done that to," Kat chided gently, but the glance she shot Scotty was anything but scolding. No, it was warm, almost…flirtatious, even. Flirtatious? No…surely not. Not those two.

"What can I say?" Scotty grinned in reply, with a casual shrug. "I’m a sucker for cute girls."

He shot Kat a look then, and Lilly was floored. Although Kat’s glance left a bit to the imagination, Scotty’s sure didn’t. There was no mistaking his intent there. And it seemed Kat noticed, because she hastily sat down at her desk, looked everywhere but at Scotty, and then buried herself in some paperwork.

Still completely shocked at the interplay of glances between her two friends, Lilly couldn’t stifle the giggle that bubbled forth, and Kat’s head snapped up.

"What’s so funny, Rush?" she asked, somewhat defensively.

Scotty shot Lilly a quick look, one that told her that, yet again, he was peeved that she was applying her detective skills to his personal life, then turned his attention back to Kat. "Oh, we were just talkin’ about me and you movin’ in together," he interjected quickly, with a warning glance at Lilly.

Kat issued a derisive snort. "Surprised I didn’t kill your sorry ass that day, Valens," she retorted with a slight smile as she scrawled her signature across the bottom of a form.

Lilly chuckled with the memories of that warm spring day, but she was a little surprised when Scotty didn’t join in. Looking up at her partner, she saw just the faintest shadows of…something…cross his face and darken his eyes almost imperceptibly. He glanced up at her, and from his expression, she could tell he knew she’d seen that…whatever it was.

Her pointedly arched eyebrow asked the question, and he just sighed and shook his head, then returned his eyes to his desk, where he seemed suddenly fascinated with swirling the leftover, half-cooled coffee in his mug.

"You were too busy workin’ on yourself, Miller," he replied, his voice light, but still colored with a curious amount of pain. Kat looked up at him, her eyes dark with apology, yet still with that same spark of defensiveness, but Scotty refused to meet her gaze.

"Am I…missin’ somethin’ here?" Lilly asked tentatively.

Kat tore her eyes away from Scotty and sighed in defeat. "Well, you were there for most of it," she began.

Despite rain in the forecast, moving day dawned warm and sunny, unseasonably warm for that early in the spring, and Kat, for one, was grateful. March in Philly tended to be a meteorological crap shoot, with snow and rain and everything in between, and she’d had nightmarish visions of all of them slipping and sliding on a glaze of ice as they attempted to unload her furniture from the truck…until the moment she rose from bed and looked out the window to see nothing but clear blue skies and bright sunshine. Breathing a sigh of relief, she turned away from the window and began stripping off the sheets with a satisfied smile.

True to her word, Kat had checked with Veronica before signing anything, even bringing her daughter to the townhouse to allow her to see their potential new digs for herself. At first, Veronica hadn’t seen the necessity of the move, or her mother’s new roommate, or any of the changes that had suddenly been thrust upon her, and Kat couldn’t blame her one bit…but she’d still been almost dizzy with relief as her daughter’s eyes widened upon seeing the size of her potential new bedroom. For Veronica, the decision was made when she saw that, instead of her current arrangement of sharing a tiny bathroom with her mother, she could have a whole bathroom all to herself, and a much larger one than that. She didn’t even care that it was downstairs from where her bedroom would be, nor did she care that she’d still have to share a shower with her mom, she got her own bathroom. Suddenly, the idea of moving to a new apartment didn’t bother her a bit, and Kat was grateful…because she fell in love with the damn place the moment she laid eyes on it. The polished wood floors…the gorgeous fireplace…the skylight in her bathroom…she hadn’t known such an apartment existed, not in anything close to her price range, anyway, and she was eternally grateful to Scotty for jumping in and suggesting it. Not that she’d ever let him see that, of course.

Any last lingering fears Kat had about the transition were put to rest one night after work when she, Veronica, and Scotty had dinner at Jorgito’s Taco Heaven, which she’d never heard of, but Scotty raved about it so enthusiastically that she couldn’t say no. As greasy, hole-in-the-wall taco places went, it was surprisingly good, although Kat was still hesitant to put "taco" and "heaven" in the same sentence for any reason…but the most pleasant surprise was how easily Scotty and Veronica got along. She’d forgotten until she saw them together that they’d met before, one spring day a couple years back when Kat had expressed reservations about a man she’d seen lurking at the park where Veronica liked to play. Scotty had volunteered (perhaps a bit too eagerly, she realized, looking back) to go check it out. Although she didn’t know exactly what went down, she had her suspicions…but the man never returned, and that was all she cared about.

But something else she’d seen that day was something she saw again that night at Jorgito’s…that unmistakable sparkle in Scotty’s eyes, one that spoke of comfort around, and an instinctive love for, children. He’d established an instant connection with V, one that brought a curious, and somewhat disturbing, warmth to Kat’s heart, especially when Scotty, to her extreme surprise, demonstrated a working knowledge of The Nutcracker, which V had just danced in a few months before.

"How the hell do you know anything about ballet?" she’d demanded as Veronica scampered off with a couple quarters, courtesy of Scotty, to go try her luck at the claw machine.

"Got twenty-six female cousins, Miller," Scotty had replied jovially. "Wasn’t a Christmas that went by that I didn’t get dragged off to see that damn thing." He was trying to sound gruff, but Kat could tell he didn’t hate it nearly as much as he’d like her to believe, and she chuckled softly, trying to wrap her mind around this particular facet of her new roommate’s personality. Just when you think you know a guy…

After the lease was signed, the preparations for the move had gone quite smoothly, with Kat’s landlord letting her out of her contract early due to her pregnancy, an allowance that she simultaneously appreciated and resented. She didn’t believe in all the "pregnant women deserve special treatment" crap. Oh, sure, she was growing a person, nurturing a new life…but it wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, wasn’t anything billions of her foremothers hadn’t done…and it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. She was strong, she was healthy, and she despised having to visit the doctor every month, constantly being told to "take it easy" (as if such a thing were even possible), and generally being treated like she was somehow more delicate or fragile just because she was pregnant. She was Kat Miller, for God’s sake. She could handle this.

All these thoughts and more were tumbling around in her mind the morning of the move, and she was bound and determined to be as helpful as humanly possible, especially since her mother had offered to stay with Veronica and help her finish packing so Kat could devote her entire attention to moving. Lilly and Vera had pledged their assistance, and Kat had wondered aloud if the four of them would be able to move two apartments’ worth of boxes and furniture by themselves, but Scotty had assured her that they’d all be fine. She and Lil could get the lighter stuff, he’d explained, and he and Vera would handle the furniture. Kat had glared at him when he’d proposed this arrangement, but he’d just grinned and reassured her that there would be plenty she could do to help out.

In practice, however, she soon discovered that "plenty she could do to help out" was nothing more than an empty promise. She’d had a ton of energy that morning, the nausea and exhaustion of the previous few weeks now a distant memory, and as soon as Scotty lifted the gate of the U-Haul that he and his brother had packed full of his furniture the night before, Kat grabbed the first box she saw and started to carry it toward the townhouse, bursting with zeal and exuberance and the excitement she always felt when she moved to a new place. She was starting over. She was beginning a new life. She was---

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute…what the hell do you think you’re doin’?" Scotty demanded as he hurried to catch up with her, his features creasing in a frown.

"What’s it look like I’m doin’?" she replied coolly, turning to face him with a brief smile.

Scotty stepped in front of her, his eyes flashing as he wrestled the box from her arms. "No way," he declared. "You ain’t carryin’ this. It’s too heavy."

"Too heavy?" Kat repeated in disbelief. "Did it look like I was havin’ trouble with it?"

Noticing Lilly and Vera looking on uncomfortably, Scotty set the box down on the sidewalk, then took a deep breath and a step closer to Kat.

"The doctor specifically said you’re not supposed to lift anything heavy," he reminded her, his voice much quieter, but still laced with an almost paternal-sounding concern, his eyes dark and blazing with both irritation and that damn ever-present overprotectiveness.

Kat was about to launch into a tirade, but she then caught a glimpse of her colleagues traipsing quietly into the truck to start the moving process, and a look from Lilly that, although gentle, still spoke volumes.

Sighing in defeat, Kat remembered Rush’s warning about Scotty’s watchdog tendencies even before they’d signed their lease. "He’ll drive you crazy, but his heart’s in the right place," she’d said, and Kat had smiled with understanding.

Knowing that that was probably all Scotty was doing, she took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down. It wasn’t that big a deal. So she couldn’t carry that particular box. Fine. Surely, out of the seemingly hundreds of boxes stacked from floor to ceiling in the U-Haul, wedged tightly among Scotty’s furniture, there was another box she could carry.

"Okay," she agreed, and Scotty blinked in surprise. Clearly, he’d been expecting her to put up more of a fight than she had, but she could tell from his startled expression that he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Good," he replied with a slight nod, then hoisted the box from the sidewalk and started up the porch steps.

"I’ll just find another one," Kat declared, and headed for the U-Haul before Scotty could even blink. She thought she caught another glimpse of something in the sapphire depths of Lilly’s eyes as she swept past, but she chose to ignore it. Kat was sure Rush was siding with Scotty, as usual, but at least she could count on Vera to always have her back.

"Hey, what makes you think we’re gonna let you carry in a damn thing?" Vera asked as he removed the box from her hands and added it to the pile he was already carrying. His tone light and joking, but laced with an undercurrent of incredulity, and Kat’s eyes widened in shock. Nick Vera, more than any of the rest of them…he knew her. He knew her independence, her resentment for being singled out for anything, and her fierce need to be in control and on top of things, and so she was stunned beyond words that even he was trying to smother her.

"You have got to be kiddin’ me," she exclaimed, but the looks on the faces of her three colleagues told her that, not only were they not kidding, not in the slightest, but they’d gotten together and agreed on this beforehand. Kat felt a surge of irritation rising in her chest. They’d…talked about her. And her pregnancy. Behind her back. Seething, she glowered briefly at Scotty, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that this was his doing, but he just glared back, his dark eyes defiant, before turning without a word and heading into the townhouse.

"C’mon," Lilly suggested calmly, leading Kat toward the front door. "There’ll be plenty for you to do once we get a few boxes in."

But, as the morning wore on, "plenty for you to do" manifested itself in Kat being shut down every time she offered to carry anything, move anything, hell, barely even unpack anything. She found that out the hard way when she started in on a box of Scotty’s clothes and discovered, to her chagrin, that the light bulb in the highly touted walk-in closet was burned out, and she couldn’t see a damn thing.

"Hey, Valens," she called down the stairs, where she could see Scotty and Vera beginning to heft Scotty’s bureau through the front door.

"Yeah," he tossed over his shoulder as he backed up the stairs, his triceps bulging and his voice strained from effort.

"We got any light bulbs handy?" she asked.

"Hall closet, I think," he grunted in response, and Kat scurried into the hallway where, sure enough, a box of light bulbs had been thoughtfully placed there by the landlord. Bless them, they thought of everything, she mused, as she grabbed one of the bulbs and the small stepladder that leaned against the door frame, then carried them back to Scotty’s bedroom.

Once there, she climbed up and began to unscrew the light bulb, accompanied all the while by the increasingly loud arguing and occasional swearing from her male colleagues, and directions from Lilly.

"Okay, a little to the left," she guided them, causing Vera to move one direction, Scotty to move the other, and both to curse loudly when they realized their mistake.

"My left," Lilly amended.

"Great," Scotty retorted sarcastically. "Now, if I had any idea where you were, and which direction your left is, we’d be good."

"Go to your right, Scotty…no, no, the right," Lilly instructed urgently, but it was too little, too late, and they couldn’t avoid bumping the doorway with the bureau, leaving a slight dent in its smooth wooden side.

"Dammit," Scotty exclaimed, peering around the corner of the bureau to inspect the damage, and taking the opportunity to glare at Vera in the process.

"Maybe you shoulda emptied it first," Vera shot back. "Might not weigh a ton and a half."

"I did empty it," Scotty argued breathlessly as they struggled over to the corner where he planned to keep the bureau. "It’s just grownup furniture. Real wood. You wouldn’t know a damn thing about that."

"Wood?" Vera repeated incredulously, eyeing the dresser with renewed loathing. "Coulda sworn it was made outta bricks."

"Shut up," Scotty grunted. "I got the heavy end, and you know it."

A few more panted curses and staggering steps, then the bureau met its resting place with a heavy thump, and Lilly, seeming eager to avoid any potential wrath from her male colleagues, quickly headed down the stairs to grab another box from the truck.

"Oh, my God," Vera wheezed as he removed his weathered, backward-facing Phillies cap, dragged his arm across his forehead, then replaced the cap and leaned on the bureau to catch his breath. "After liftin’ this damn thing," he began, indicating the dresser with a jerk of his head, "I shouldn’t need to go to the gym for a week."

"So what’s your excuse for the other fifty-one weeks this year?" Scotty snarked in reply, though Kat noticed that he, too, was more than a little winded, and his gray beater was starting to darken in a few places with the sweat that also glistened on his neck and shoulders.

After lifting the hem of the shirt to wipe his face, he glanced around the room. "Where’d Miller get to?" he asked, letting the shirt drop. "Thought I heard her somewhere."

"Right here," Kat announced with a triumphant smile as she finished screwing in the light bulb, bathing the closet in a soft white light.

Upon seeing her, Scotty froze, his eyes wide in a curious mixture of surprise and alarm, and then he sprang into action and crossed the room in about a step. Before she could fight him off, or even find the words to argue, she found herself being lifted, bodily, off the stepladder and lowered to the ground, where his eyes now sparked with the twin lightning bolts of fury and apprehension.

"The hell you doin’ up there?" he demanded roughly.

"Changin’ a damn light bulb, Valens," Kat retorted. "And don’t worry, it only weighs a couple ounces," she added sarcastically.

Scotty didn’t even blink. "It’s also nine feet off the goddamn ground," he shot back. "You forget you ain’t supposed to be up on ladders, too?"

"Goddammit, Scotty!" she exploded, indicating the closet with an emphatic wave of her hand. "I’m thirty-three years old! I think I can change a damn light bulb without a babysitter."

"Yeah, well if you think for one second I’m gonna---" Scotty began threateningly, but he was cut off by the loud, gravelly voice of Nick Vera.

"Hey, hey, hey," he interjected, stepping between the two. "Botha you just shut up. Movin’s stressful enough without you two rippin’ each other’s throats out." He glanced from Scotty to Kat and back again, then sighed heavily as they continued to glare at each other, neither one moving an inch.

"She knows what the doctor said," Scotty muttered, his eyes shooting daggers at Kat.

"I’ve done this before, dammit," Kat retorted, unfazed and unimpressed. "I’m pregnant, not an invalid. I can change a fuckin’ light bulb, for God’s sake."

In response, they heard a heavy, defeated sigh from Vera, who then fished in his wallet and handed Kat a couple of bills. She looked at the cash, then regarded her colleague with some surprise.

"It’s almost lunchtime," he explained calmly. "Why don’t you just go get us some burgers? My treat."

Kat returned her attention to Scotty and glared at him defiantly. "That okay with you, Mom?" she sneered. "Or do you want me to call Dr. Bridwell first, make sure it’s safe?"

Scotty rolled his eyes. "Just go get the damn burgers," he instructed.

Kat shot him one last lethal glare, then snatched the cash from Vera’s outstretched hand and stormed out into the hallway.

"Number four with an extra-large Coke," Scotty called after her. "And, hey, hold the mayo."

"Number six value meal, Extra Mega Jumbo size everything, and get ‘em to add extra pickles," Vera instructed.

"Chicken sandwich for me," the box-toting Lilly added with a kind smile as she met Kat on the stairs.

***

Kat grumbled inwardly all the way to the hamburger place, and, once there, took a disturbing amount of perverse joy in requesting extra packets of mayo, then viciously tearing them open with her teeth and squirting them all over Scotty’s burger until the beef patty was completely obscured by a thick, shiny layer of oozing white goo. She knew it was juvenile, she knew it was petty, but, dammit, it was the only thing she could think of to do. Her power, her control, and her dignity were being ripped away from her, bit by tiny bit, so if her only avenue for revenge was childish and mayonnaise-intensive, then, by God, she’d take it. And she’d enjoy every single minute of it.

When she returned to her new home and handed out the sandwiches, her co-workers pounced on them as though they hadn’t eaten in a week, and all conversation stopped as lunch was greedily devoured. Even Scotty had wolfed down about a third of his burger before he finally realized that it was positively smothered in mayonnaise. After replacing the bun and taking another, albeit less enthusiastic bite, he shot Kat a brief glare, which she returned with a smirk, but neither of them said a word. He wasn’t backing down, she knew…but neither was she.

Shortly after lunch was finished and the sacks and wrappers all noisily crumpled and corralled into the large Wal-Mart sack they were using as a trash bag, they finished unloading Scotty’s furniture from the U-Haul, then drove the truck over to Kat’s apartment to load up hers. Her three colleagues had apparently commiserated on the subject while she was grabbing lunch, and, it seemed, they’d elected Lilly to apprise Kat of her next assignment: she was to stay behind and take a nap. It would be quiet for at least an hour, and the rest would do her good, Lilly had explained gently, without being patronizing, and Kat had to hand it to her. The delivery was flawless…the result being that Kat was furious. Not with Rush, of course…but with Scotty. She knew this edict had been handed down from Valens himself, and she was glad, for the sake of both him and his manhood, that he was already down in the truck.

The minute they left, Kat did, to her surprise, briefly consider the idea of a nap, but she dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. True, she was a bit tired, and a nap would feel simply wonderful…but she’d be damned to if she let Scotty Valens be right about her, and she’d be damned if the rest of them were loading her furniture while she was sleeping. She’d show them a pregnant woman wasn’t a useless invalid, she vowed…and how could she prove that point better than by unpacking Scotty’s stuff? With a twisted, self-satisfied grin, she spent the next couple hours unpacking and carefully organizing Scotty’s belongings: his clothes, his surprisingly large collection of shoes, and the decent assortment of pots and pans. He sure was a helluva lot better equipped for cooking than she was, Kat decided in a heartbeat.

After a while, the crew returned, and Kat renewed her efforts to help, but once again, to her extreme frustration, she was shut down. It was too warm outside, Scotty declared, and he didn’t want her to overexert herself. Once more, she tried to argue, tried to insist that she’d be fine, but Lilly quietly reminded her that Scotty’s heart was in the right place, and Kat swallowed her seething rage and what little remained of her pride, then returned to the living room to busy herself with the incredibly important task of arranging their respective movie collections on the shelves beside the television.

As her colleagues trudged through with article after article of furniture, Kat grew increasingly frustrated. This was her stuff, dammit, so it was her responsibility. No, she didn’t pretend to be able to heft a queen-sized bed by herself, but she felt that she should at least do something to help, especially as the warm afternoon wore on and her friends began to look more and more fatigued. Scotty was bathed in sweat, his shirt almost completely soaked and clinging to his torso, and an equally drenched Vera had added a red face, a bruised shin, and a slight wheeze to his discomforts. Even Lilly’s normally pale skin had turned bright pink with exertion, and a few strands of her unruly blonde hair stuck damply to her neck and forehead. Kat felt her exasperation reach a fever pitch as she watched Lilly fan herself with a newspaper while Vera searched for an ice pack for his shin and Scotty dug through a box for some bottles of water, and with that, her decision was made. She wasn’t going to take it. Not anymore. This was her job. So, while they were distracted, she quietly slipped out to the U-Haul, where she defiantly grabbed a box of her clothes and started down the ramp with it. It wasn’t especially heavy, and she figured they wouldn’t miss that one box.

As she carried it up the stairs to her bedroom, she felt a renewal of her earlier vigor and sense of purpose. Finally, finally, she was helping. She was doing her own job. She was pulling her weight. She wasn’t being the pampered pregnant princess. Pregnancy wasn’t an illness, dammit, it was a perfectly normal, natural state of affairs. There was no reason she couldn’t contribute to this project.

Coming back down the stairs, she heard her weary colleagues decide to take a break and leave the rest of the furniture in the truck for the moment, concentrating instead on reassembling Veronica’s bed. Kat could tell that the three of them weren’t even aware she was missing, so she took advantage of the relative peace and quiet to make trip after trip out into the dazzling early spring sunshine, carting in box after box and stashing them in the kitchen, the living room, and her bedroom.

Finally, all the boxes were unloaded, and Kat stood in the warm, airless shade of the U-Haul trailer, wiping sweat from her brow and deciding what to tackle next. Suddenly, her eyes lit on a small bedside table destined for Veronica’s room, and she couldn’t help but smile. She’d bought that table when she was pregnant with V, one of the few articles of furniture she’d been able to afford at the time, and she had a special fondness for it. The two of them had painted it white one afternoon when V was seven, and Kat felt a flood of love wash over her as she remembered the pride shining from her daughter’s paint-smeared face that day as she surveyed their handiwork. With another affectionate grin, Kat hoisted the table and headed into the townhouse. It was heavier than she remembered, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Besides, though she trusted her colleagues with her life, she didn’t trust any of them with that end table.

When she reached the front door, she realized, to her chagrin, that a breeze must have closed the door while she was in the trailer. She paused for a moment to plan her strategy, then lowered the table, opened the door, wiggled the doorstop into place with her foot, then lifted the table once more and carefully maneuvered it into the living room.

"Oh, for the fuckin’ love of God!" she heard Scotty exclaim, though, since the table was blocking her view, she couldn’t see him. She could certainly feel him, though; feel the vibrations of his enraged footsteps through the polished wood of the living room floor, feel him forcibly yanking the table from her arms and setting it beside the fireplace, and then she saw the almost lethal mixture of barely controlled anger and helpless exasperation blazing from his dark eyes.

He glared fiercely at her for a moment, and she glared back, her eyes shooting sparks, and she could tell from his rapid breathing, the rhythmically twitching muscle in his jaw, and his tightly crossed arms that he was holding himself back from just laying into her, from reading her the riot act. Makes two of us, jackass, she hissed inwardly.

Finally, he spoke, his tone carefully measured, but laced with a depth of anger she’d heard from him only in the interview room.

"What…in God’s name…do you think you’re doin’, Miller?" he demanded through clenched teeth, his voice soft, yet trembling with fury.

"Movin’ that end table," she shot back.

"I know that," Scotty roared in frustration, flinging his arms to the sides. "What I wanna know is why."

"Then maybe you shoulda asked me that," she retorted. She knew she was being ridiculous, she knew she was goading him, but God help her, she couldn’t stop herself. Pissing him off was just…so damn easy, and today, more than any other day she could remember, he had it coming.

Sure enough, Scotty exploded then, raking a hand through his hair as he began to pace the floor, so furious, it seemed, that he couldn’t even look at her. "For God’s sake, Kat, you’re five months pregnant! The doctor gave you all those limitations for a reason! There’s a reason you ain’t supposed to be carryin’ heavy stuff. There’s a reason you ain’t supposed to be climbin’ ladders. You could get hurt…the baby could get hurt…you could---"

"Oh, spare me," she snapped, rolling her eyes and whirling around in exasperation. "I know all the rules."

Scotty stopped in his tracks and glared at her again, disbelief mixing with the blazing anger in his fiery gaze. "Then why the hell are you so dead set on breakin’ every last goddamn one of ‘em?" he demanded, the strain in his voice reflected by the tension of the muscles in his shoulders and his chest as he folded his arms once more.

"Because I’ve done this be---" she shot back, but Scotty interrupted her.

"I know, I know, you’ve done this before," he shouted, with a seamless blend of anger and sarcasm. "You had a kid, a decade ago, and you think that makes you some kinda childbearin’ expert."

She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off, turning to face her with a peculiar expression on his face, equal parts rage and worry, and for a moment, she almost felt her heart softening. Almost.

"But y’know what?" he continued angrily. "I haven’t done this before, okay? There ain’t a single parta this that I’ve done before," he declared, the anger melting away just enough for her to hear his anguished concern. "So excuse me for worryin’," he continued hoarsely, his voice rising with each syllable. "Excuse me for makin’ sure you follow the rules."

He turned then and looked her dead in the eyes. "Excuse me for carin’ about this baby."

Kat froze, utterly nonplussed, and just stared at him in disbelief for a moment.

"Did you just say what I think you said?" she asked icily, not wanting to believe what she’d just heard. "Are you implyin’ that you don’t think I can take care of my own child?" That you don’t think I’m capable of makin’ sure this baby is safe?" she demanded, her voice beginning to shake with barely-controlled fury. "Is that what you’re sayin’ to me? That you think I don’t care?"

"Well, it’s makin’ me wonder, I’ll tell you that much," Scotty fired back.

Kat stood in stunned silence, reeling from his verbal slap. She’d expected to feel angry…she’d expected to want to just kill him…but what she didn’t expect was for that comment to cut so deep, so quickly…she didn’t expect it to hurt so damn much. She needed to get out of there, and fast, before he could see how badly he’d wounded her. So she shot him one last glare, one of her finest, she noted with pride, and swept past him on her way up the stairs.

"I’ll be in my room. Unpackin’ clothes," she informed him, trying desperately to keep the tears that had begun to sting her eyes from coming through in her voice. "You know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the hell out."

"Kat---" Scotty called after her, sounding instantly contrite. "Hey, I didn’t mean---"

But she was hearing none of it. She merely lifted a hand to stop him as she stormed up the stairs and hurried into her room.

"And if you so much as leave a fingerprint on that table, I swear to God I’ll rip your throat out," she called by way of a parting shot as she slammed the door so hard it shook the walls.

***

Kat spent the entire evening glowering in her bedroom, tossing clothes in her dresser drawers and flinging them into the closet. The seething combination of pain and anger fueled her frenetic unpacking, and when she finally glanced at the clock, she was shocked to see that it was after ten. She was sure her colleagues had left by now, couldn’t imagine them sticking around, not after that fight, not after the way Scotty was no doubt bratting around like he owned the place.

As she finally folded up the last empty box, tossed it into the back of her closet and sank wearily onto the bed, her stomach loudly and indignantly insisted that it had been far too long since her last meal, and now that her anger was spent, the hunger could battle for supremacy with the sudden, almost overwhelming fatigue. She wanted to eat, hell, she was starving…but she didn’t have the energy to move a single muscle.

Her decision made, she dragged herself to her feet to grab her phone…

…and that’s when the pain hit.

Sudden. Sharp. Stabbing. Excruciating.

Blinding in its intensity, it washed over her in waves…her abdomen…her back…her groin…everywhere, and for a second, Kat wondered if she’d pass out. She felt a cold sweat break out all over her body, and, dread coiling in her stomach, her heart pounding with a sudden, desperate panic, she sank back down onto the bed, dinner forgotten, and, with trembling hands, frantically dialed the number for her obstetrician.

She’d never done this before.

Chapter Nine

Orange Ball of Pain

Scotty sighed deeply, a sigh of both weariness and contentment, as he finally turned off the water and reached for his towel. He had no idea how long he’d been in the shower, washing away the sweat and the soreness from a day lugging heavy furniture, but he’d spent a long time, probably too long, he conceded, luxuriating in the fact that he could be under the spray for longer than four minutes and thirty-seven seconds before the temperature plummeted to that of a recently melted glacier. The new shower was much bigger, too, and boasted a wonderful massage feature, which he used to full advantage to loosen his stiff shoulders and aching back. He loved that new shower. Loved the hardwood floors. Loved the fireplace. Loved the lack of curry and country music. Loved every damn thing about this place.

Everything…except his stubborn, pig-headed, pain-in-the-ass roommate. Not that that should’ve surprised him. He knew what she was like even before he signed the lease, knew on some level that the pregnancy hormones would probably make everything worse, knew he probably shouldn’t have snapped out at her like he had that afternoon…but, dammit, she’d pushed his every last button. She’d used that freakin’ "I’ve done this before" trump card one too many times for his liking, and, quite frankly, he was glad she’d stormed up the stairs like one of his cousins in the throes of a melodramatic teenage hissy fit. Once she’d locked herself away in her bedroom, the awkward tension that had permeated the place since the moment they started unloading boxes had gradually dissipated, the rest of the move had gone smoothly, and, after everything was in, Scotty had treated Lilly and Vera to enormous quantities of pizza and beer as a thank-you for all their hard work. They’d then settled down in front of March Madness on TV, he and Vera cheering their hearts out for a team from some tiny, obscure university they’d never heard of while Lilly looked on with gentle amusement. Then, the mood celebratory and lighthearted, if a bit fatigued, his co-workers had headed for their respective homes, and Scotty had made a beeline for the shower, where he’d stayed until his skin was flushed crimson and his fingertips turned to raisins…and still, to his astonished delight, he had hot water. He couldn’t believe it.

Feeling rejuvenated, Scotty stepped out of the shower, relishing the cool blast of air that hit his overheated body, and wrapped the towel around his waist without even bothering to dry off, then headed across the hall to his bedroom to begin what would no doubt be a long, frustrating search through a couple dozen hastily-packed, ill-marked boxes for a clean T-shirt and some boxers. However, once he reached his room, he was surprised, and elated, to discover that the mountains of boxes he’d expected to see were nowhere to be found. Instead, all his work clothes were hanging neatly in the closet, and the bureau was filled with his T-shirts, gym clothes, and boxers, all folded and organized far more neatly than he ever did it himself.

With a rueful grin, he grabbed his favorite Sixers T-shirt from the drawer and tossed it on top of the bureau, then opened the neighboring drawer to grab some boxers. He knew he really should go apologize to her, he thought…but he also knew it would be foolhardy at best, and lethal at worst, to try and do it tonight. Kat needed some space, and she needed him to give it to her. That, he realized, he could easily do.

He was just about to dry off and start getting dressed when a soft, yet urgent knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Scotty?" he heard a quiet, tremulous voice say.

"Yeah, c’mon in," he replied with a mystified frown. He certainly hadn’t been expecting Kat to make the first move, hadn’t been expecting even to see her until the morning, if she was even speaking to him by then, so he wondered what the hell she was doing knocking on his door at this time of night.

The door creaked open, and he glanced over at her with a grin…which faded in a heartbeat when he saw her. Her normally dark skin was pale and clammy with sweat, and she was still clad in the faded Metallica T-shirt and stretch pants she’d been wearing all day. Her trembling hands clutched at the swollen bump in her lower abdomen, the bump that was their child, and all that would have been disconcerting enough…but, good Lord, her eyes…her eyes scared him to death. Ebony with pain, they were overlaid with a sheen of tears and hollow with the most devastating, bone-chilling terror he’d seen in a long time. Not for years. Not since Elisa.

"Kat?" he asked, instantly feeling the chill of dread coiling in the pit of his stomach and rising in his throat until he nearly choked on it. "What’s wrong?"

She inhaled, her breath shaky and tentative, and then scarcely comprehensible fragments of sentences poured out of her mouth in a panicky voice barely above a whisper as her nervous hands flitted around like butterflies. "I…did something. I—I hurt something," she stammered. "Scotty, I gotta to go the ER. I need you to---God…I---I—I called Dr. Bridwell…she—she said to meet her there…Scotty…I gotta go…"

"Sit down," Scotty ordered firmly, trying to absorb what she was telling him. "Gimme thirty seconds to get dressed, and I’ll have you there in two minutes." Carefully, he guided Kat toward his bed and lowered her to the edge of it, and was more alarmed by the fact that she wasn’t resisting him at all than by just about anything he’d seen from her since she knocked on his door. She wasn’t Kat Miller. Not now. She wasn’t herself. She wasn’t okay.

His heart pounding frantically, Scotty grabbed his shirt and yanked it over his head, then retreated with his boxers into the closet, where he hastily slipped into those and the first pair of jeans he could tug from their nest on a shelf, realizing, with a bittersweet pang of gratitude, how fortunate it was that everything was so well-organized, then slid on a pair of sneakers and grabbed his keys from the top of the dresser.

"Okay," he said, turning to look at Kat again, and instantly regretting it. That horrifying look in her eyes had gotten even worse, and he hadn’t thought that was possible. He was nearly paralyzed with panic, but he fought it back. She was flipped out already, so he had to be the calm one. And, really, that was okay…he had experience with it, after all. Besides, he realized, it was far less terrifying for him when there was some concrete thing he could do, some action he could take, some way he could help….and right now, there was. So he could do this. He was in his element now.

"You ready?" he asked briskly, grabbing his wallet and stuffing it into his pocket.

Wordlessly, Kat nodded, and he helped her to her feet, pain lancing his soul as she grimaced on her way to a standing position. He steadied her and let go, then watched in horror as even more color drained from her face during her struggle even to take a step. Scotty was dumbfounded. Never before had he seen her show any kind of pain, and indeed had idly wondered if she was even capable of it, so if she, after the fight they’d had that afternoon, was letting him see her, like this…he didn’t even want to imagine what kind of pain she was in.

His heart ached as he watched her try to take another step, and when she lost her balance and reached out to steady herself on the edge of his bed, he realized he just didn’t have it in him to watch her suffer anymore, and quickly formed a plan of action. Maybe she’d kill him for what he was about to do. In fact, he kinda hoped she would…because that would mean she was still in there somewhere. But in the meantime, he needed to do something, so, with a sympathetic murmur of her name, Scotty swept her into his arms and carried her around the corner and down the stairs.

With only the tiniest of whimpers, Kat buried her face in his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck, and, his heart twisting painfully at the sound, Scotty tried his damnedest to walk as smoothly as possible so he wouldn’t hurt her any more than she’d already apparently hurt herself. Panicked thoughts tumbled through his head, sheer terror for both her and the baby…but he stuffed them down with all the force he could muster. There was no room for this. Not here. Not now.

He could freak out later.

***

When they reached the hospital, they found Dr. Bridwell waiting for them in the lobby, which enabled them to bypass the usual formalities. Within moments, they were both in an exam room, Kat lying on the table, looking small and helpless in a hospital gown, with goopy blue ultrasound jelly smeared all over her abdomen.

"Let’s just take a quick look," Dr. Bridwell said as she readied the ultrasound wand, her outward demeanor calm, but Scotty’s keen detective’s eye told him she was far more concerned than she was letting on, and that made yet another icy shiver of panic run down his spine. As the obstetrician started to maneuver the wand over Kat’s belly, Scotty clutched his roommate’s cold, limp hand in both of his and kept his eyes glued to the tiny black screen of the monitor, hoping beyond hope, praying more fervently than he had in quite some time…

A sense of relief like he’d never known flooded through him when Dr. Bridwell turned up the volume on the monitor and the exam room filled with that steady, rhythmic whooshing sound. His knees buckling and his entire body starting to shake, Scotty bowed his head, squeezed Kat’s hand, and finally let out the breath he’d been holding since she first knocked on his bedroom door.

"Baby looks just fine," Dr. Bridwell announcd, her smile betraying her own relief. "Her heartbeat’s nice and strong."

Scotty’s head snapped up. "Her…heartbeat?" he parroted, frowning at the doctor.

Dr. Bridwell winced, then grinned ruefully at both of them as a faint blush crept into her cheeks. "You…did want to know the sex, right?" she asked, almost apologetically.

"Well---well, yeah," Scotty stammered in reply, trying to wrap his mind around what the doctor had just told them. "It’s a---a girl?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly on the last word.

"It’s a girl," she confirmed, her smile wide and proud. "Congratulations."

In amazement, Scotty glanced down at Kat to gauge her reaction, expecting a relieved smile, a smart-ass remark, something…but she was staring straight ahead, her eyes glued to the wiggly white blob on the monitor, her face registering almost no emotion, and when he gave her hand another squeeze and then let go, she let it drop limply to her lap. She was clearly off in her own world, and, as Scotty studied her carefully, he wondered if she’d heard even one word the doctor had said.

"So, Kat…now that we know that the baby’s okay, we can deal with you," Dr. Bridwell announced, switching off the monitor and turning her attention to her patient. "Anything unusual today? Anything at work? Any heavy exertion, anything out of the ordinary for you?"

After a long pause, Kat finally spoke, the first words she’d uttered since her panic-stricken announcement in his bedroom. "I moved today," she replied flatly, her voice dull and devoid of feeling.

"You moved?" Dr. Bridwell asked blankly as she cleaned the ultrasound jelly off Kat’s abdomen.

"We got a place together," Scotty explained. "She was movin’ some boxes."

Dr. Bridwell turned her attention from Scotty to Kat. "Just boxes?" she inquired, almost knowingly.

Kat sighed and closed her eyes, and even that small display of emotion simultaneously brought Scotty further relief…and caused his heart to ache for her even more. "And an end table," she admitted.

Dr. Bridwell arched a brow. "You know you’ve got to watch out for that," she reminded her patient. "I know you’ve done this before, but that was eleven years ago. You’re not twenty-two anymore, Kat," she continued, peeling off her gloves. "What was okay then may not be okay now. Your body’s different than it was last time. You’re older. And while thirty-three is certainly not old, it’s an age where there are just some risks that younger women don’t have."

Scotty tried hard to follow along as the young, dark-haired doctor abruptly launched into a rapid-fire stream of medical jargon…words like placental abruption and uterine prolapse. He’d didn’t know what any of those were, exactly, but he could tell by the color that was draining from Kat’s already paled face that they weren’t good. Late miscarriage, though…he sure as hell could figure out what that meant, and he felt his blood turning to ice.

Meanwhile, Dr. Bridwell was still speaking to Kat, her voice a beautiful mixture of firmness and compassion. "You need to take care of yourself, Kat. You need to listen to your body, and you need to take it easy. I know you don’t like hearing that…but it’s not an option anymore. It’s an order."

Kat nodded slowly, her eyes on her hands, which she was wringing nervously in her lap.

"We got any idea what she did to herself?" Scotty asked lightly.

"It’s nothing serious, definitely," Dr. Bridwell reassured him, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she scribbled a note in Kat’s chart. "Just a few pulled muscles and strained ligaments. We’ll give her some pregnancy-safe painkillers, and she’s gonna have to be on bed rest for a couple days, but she should be back to her old self by next week," she declared, clicking her pen and tucking it into the pocket of her salmon-colored scrubs. "Take good care of her, okay?" she said with a smile, then pulled back the curtain and departed.

Scotty felt his shoulders slumping as another tidal wave of relief washed over him. She was okay. The baby was okay. Everything was okay.

He hoped.

***

But for the throaty rumble of the Mustang’s engine and the swish of passing vehicles on streets soaked with a gentle late-evening rain, the drive home had been eerily silent, and now, as he idled at the window of the drive-thru pharmacy, Scotty stole another concerned glance at Kat, more worried about her than ever. Physically, she was going to be fine…but her monotone responses to Dr. Bridwell’s questions were the last words she’d spoken, and since then she’d shown no relief, no reaction…she’d just stared straight ahead, almost like a ghost. The nurse had given her an injection of painkillers, which she’d accepted without so much as a flinch, much less the argument Scotty would’ve expected. Dr. Bridwell had also prescribed some pain pills, which a smiling pharmacist was handing to him now. He’d half expected Kat to put up a fight about those, too, but she just gazed out her window and remained unnervingly still.

Pulling out of the drive-thru window, Scotty sighed as he continued to study her out of the corner of his eye, and then decided that now would be as good a time as any to apologize. He certainly hadn’t been wrong to put his foot down earlier, and their trip to the emergency room had proven it…but he definitely could’ve been nicer about it, he realized. Definitely could’ve…well…respected her a bit more than he had.

"Kat," he began hesitantly, but that was all he got out before he felt something shatter like glass in the seat next to him, and he glanced over at her in alarm, then froze, stunned by what he saw. Where a mere second before, she’d been nearly catatonic, now she’d buried her face in her hands and was weeping helplessly, the tears dripping between her fingers and her shoulders shaking with deep, heart-wrenching sobs.

Quickly, Scotty pulled into a space in the drugstore parking lot, unbuckled his seat belt, and moved to put his arms around her, but she wriggled out of his embrace.

"Don’t touch me," she choked out, and Scotty backed off, retreating to his side of the car and, still reeling from the sudden change in her demeanor, he wracked his brain trying to determine what the hell was going on with her, and what he could possibly do to help.

"Kat, I---" he began helplessly.

"I’m sorry," she whimpered between sobs. "I’m so sorry, Scotty. I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…" she repeated over and over.

"For what?" he asked blankly, still desperately wishing he could pull her into his arms, but knowing she wouldn’t let him.

"I—I coulda killed our baby," she wailed, and the indescribable depth of grief in her voice tore his heart in two.

"Hey," he whispered, trying once again to wrap his arms around her, but she ducked out of his embrace and leaned her forehead against the passenger window.

Scotty frowned, trying to figure out how to get through to her. "Kat, she’s fine," he tried to reassure her, wondering why the hell she still wouldn’t let him touch her. "You’re fine. Everything’s fine."

Kat whirled to face him, her eyes rimmed with red and sparking with indignation. "It’s not fine," she nearly screamed in reply. "I risked our baby’s life to win an argument with you. What the hell kinda mother does that?" She looked up at him then, her tear-streaked face challenging him to come up with a reply, which, of course, he couldn’t. Not when she was looking at him like that.

"You win, okay?" she continued, her voice trembling with furious tears. "I don’t know what I’m doin’. You’re right not to trust me," she declared, then leaned against the window and choked back another sob.

So that was what she was doing, Scotty suddenly realized. She was refusing to allow herself even the momentary comfort of a compassionate embrace as a way of punishing herself for what she’d done.

"Kat, I never said I didn’t---You ain’t---I didn’t mean---" he faltered, then stopped and sighed in frustration. After a moment spent kneading the steering wheel, considering his options, he decided to resort to begging. Words weren’t his thing, not outside the interview room, anyway…and sure as hell not in situations like this. He simply couldn’t do this, couldn’t talk her down off the ledge…not if he couldn’t touch her.

"Could you please, please, for the love of God, just let me put my arm around you for a couple seconds?" he asked, almost angrily. "For me?"

Kat searched his eyes for a moment, then sniffled and acquiesced, burying her face in his shoulder, clinging to his neck and letting her tears soak through his T-shirt. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, hoping beyond hope she’d just stay there, and feeling greatly relieved when she did. Knowing his embrace would say more to her than his words ever could, Scotty decided to remain silent and just hold her while she cried.

After a few minutes, the storm of her emotions dissipated, and she raised her head from his shoulder, returned to her side of the car, and hunted through her purse for a Kleenex. Aside from a brief, almost embarrassed glance, she avoided his eyes, and he could sense her grief being rapidly replaced by something far less vulnerable.

"Kat---" he ventured again, hoping to get in under the wire before her trademark anger was fully in place.

"Don’t," she snapped, with as much force as she could muster, which, in her current state, wasn’t much, but it was still enough to startle him into silence. "Just…don’t, okay?" She blew her nose, then sighed and fixed him with a shadow of her usual glare. "I can’t take a lecture right now. I screwed up, I forgot that I can’t do everything. You were right, I was wrong, and I already told you you won. So just…please...spare me the gloating for tonight," she demanded.

"Oh, for fuck’s sake!" Scotty exclaimed in exasperation. Kat Miller had to be the most stubborn, prickly, difficult woman he’d ever encountered…and yet somehow, for some unfathomable reason…she was the mother of his child. Like it or not, he was connected to her for eternity.

She opened her mouth to argue, but he glared at her so fiercely that she quickly closed it again, and he kept his eyes riveted on hers until he was sure she’d remain quiet at least long enough for him to finish his thought.

"All I was gonna say," he began softly, the glare a distant memory, his voice and eyes now devoid of everything except tenderness, compassion, and relief, "was that I’m glad…so damn glad…that the two of you are all right."

Kat’s eyes widened, and Scotty’s brow creased in confusion once more. "What, you…you actually think I’m gonna use this as an opportunity to gloat?" he asked, with a slight chuckle, but the disbelieving look in her eyes told him unequivocally that, yes, as a matter of fact, she did think that.

"Jesus, Miller, d’you know me at all?" he asked incredulously, suddenly feeling deeply insulted that, for some reason, that was what she expected of him.

She still said nothing, but looked instantly contrite, tears filling her eyes anew, and the anger melted from his heart as quickly as it had arisen.

"Look," he continued quietly, "all I care about is that everything’s okay. That’s all I’ve ever cared about. And that’s all I wanted to do today. Swear to God." He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "I didn’t go about it real good, I’ll admit that, and I’m gonna try to do better in the future. You have done this before, you’re a great mom already," he paused then, his gaze riveted on her, willing her with his eyes to believe the truth of what he’d just told her, "and you know a helluva lot more about this than I ever will."

Kat sniffled and nodded, then wiped away another tear that had managed to escape down her cheek.

"I gotta listen to you, Scotty," she said tremulously, her eyes on the floor. "I’ve been thinkin’ you don’t know anything, but you do, and I---"

"Shhh," he whispered. "It’s fine. It’s all gonna be fine."

Once again, Kat turned to face him. "Scotty, I—I need you," she blurted out, then froze, her expression like that of a deer caught in headlights. She hadn’t meant to say that, he was certain, and he watched her frantically trying to take it back, to reel those words back in and stuff them down so deep they‘d never come out again, but she couldn’t, and her eyes sparked briefly with anger as she realized it, then clouded with a reluctant, almost sheepish acceptance of the truth. Holy crap, she really did need him.

"Hey," he said softly, snaking an arm behind her and pulling her close, elated when she accepted his embrace and rested her head on his shoulder. "I need you, too. You got any idea how scared I was tonight?"

"Not as scared as I was," she admitted, resting a hand on her belly.

"I ain’t talkin’ about the baby, Kat," he told her. "I mean, I was scared about her, too…but the one who really scared the shit outta me?" He pulled away from her just enough so he could see her face in the pale glow of the streetlights. "That was you."

She sat up straight, her eyes rapidly searching his. "Her?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Scotty replied, smiling despite everything, thrilled beyond belief that he was getting to deliver this news. "It’s a girl. And she’s fine."

Kat choked back another sob and let her head fall onto Scotty’s shoulder again, and he felt another few tears soak into the fabric of his shirt.

"It’s a girl," she repeated tremulously. "It’s a girl. Another little girl. I got another daughter. We got a daughter, Scotty," she said, raising her head from his shoulder and meeting his gaze.

"Yeah," Scotty whispered, his own emotions suddenly and dangerously close to the surface.

"You gotta help me take care of her," she implored him, her eyes suddenly wide and pleading.

Scotty grinned slightly. "S’why I moved in, Miller," he replied as jovially as he could.

"I mean…now, too," she whispered, lowering her eyes to her lap.

Scotty gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I know," he echoed.

***

By the time they arrived back at their new home, Kat was slumped in her seat, very nearly asleep. The events and the emotions of the day, in addition to the painkillers, had taken their toll, it seemed, so Scotty carried her back up the stairs to her room and laid her gently in her bed. Her eyes fluttered open when her head met the pillow, and she smiled up at him. It was a wan, tremulous smile, a faint shadow of the one he knew she was capable of…but he’d take it just the same.

"Y’okay?" he asked her as he slid his arms out from beneath her and straightened to his full height.

"Think so," she replied sleepily, still smiling as her eyes fell closed again.

Scotty returned her smile, then set the paper bag containing her pain medication on the bedside table. "You gonna take a pill tonight?" he asked.

Kat shook her head. "Shot hasn’t worn off yet," she told him, and Scotty decided to let it slide. If she wasn’t in any pain, there wasn’t any reason for him to insist on the pills, at least, not yet. That, he decided, was a battle he could fight tomorrow.

He was just turning to go when her eyes opened slightly. "I got some…muscle rub…" she suggested, indicating a box atop a stack in the corner next to the bathroom. "Doctor said it might help…"

Scotty crossed the room in a flash, pulled the box down, and dug through it, retrieving the small plastic tube after a few seconds’ search. He then returned to Kat’s bed and handed it to her, but the look in her eyes stopped him.

"Could you…?" she began almost sheepishly, then trailed off, still clearly reluctant even in her sleepy, emotionally drained, painkiller-addled state to ask him for anything, and he couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he flipped open the cap and squeezed a bit of the cream onto his fingertips. His grin turned into outright chuckling as the pungent, minty aroma filled the air.

"What?" Kat murmured as she rolled onto her side and raised her T-shirt so he could reach her lower back.

"I’m thinkin’ maybe I oughta keep this stuff in my room," he informed her casually as he began to massage the cream into her dark skin.

"Why’s that?" she asked him with an adorably puzzled frown.

"Got oil of wintergreen in it, Miller," he grinned in response. "Don’t think for a minute I’ve forgotten your threat."

He wasn’t expecting much of a response from her, and so was thrilled when she issued a brief chuckle. "Think you’re safe for tonight," she replied, rolling over onto her other side so Scotty could reach her enlarged abdomen.

Her eyes slid closed as he continued his gentle massage, and then she sighed in blissful contentment, and the sound warmed him to the tips of his toes. She was such a badass most of the time, so stubborn and prickly and difficult…but when she sighed like that, like just that simple bit of attention was the most blissful thing she’d ever experienced… it reminded him that beneath all that was a woman. A wonderful woman, with a brilliant mind, a beautiful soul, and a caring heart. A woman, he suddenly realized, that he was absolutely thrilled was carrying his child.

The pungent white cream had almost completely vanished into the dusky, glowing skin of her abdomen when he felt a soft, barely-perceptible fluttering beneath his fingertips. Dumbfounded, he froze stock-still, his eyes fixated on the spot and his heart in his throat. Was that---? Did he just---?

Scotty thought he was imagining things, was almost positive he was making them up…but then he felt the fluttering again, a bit stronger this time. He tore his astonished gaze from Kat’s belly to her face, only to discover that her eyes had opened and were shining with unshed tears of joy and love, and she was smiling as broadly as he’d ever seen her. That smile alone would have answered his question, but he supposed he must have still had a deer-in-the-headlights expression on his face, because she laughed gently and placed her hand on her belly, shyly intertwining her fingers with his.

"Baby’s kickin’, Scotty," she said softly.

Scotty was absolutely floored, his hand frozen to the spot.

"V didn’t kick this early," Kat mused, her tone wistful, her eyes faraway.

"Is this---?" he asked again, still in too much shock to finish his sentence.

"First time," she confirmed, then chuckled again. "And if she’s anything like V, we’ve got a lot more of this to look forward to."

Scotty couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t even move. All he could do was keep his hand glued to that spot on Kat’s stomach and try to absorb the fact that that fluttering lump he was feeling was a person, a real live person…a little girl. He had a daughter…his daughter was okay…and she’d just kicked him. It was almost more than he could take in.

He had no idea how long he sat there, but there was no repeat performance, and finally, reluctantly, he slid his hand off Kat’s belly and, clearing his throat, wiped the excess muscle rub on his jeans.

"You, uh…y’okay here?" he asked again, feeling suddenly awkward.

"Mm-hm," she murmured, her eyes falling closed and her lips still curved upward in a ghost of a smile. "’Night, Scotty."

"Yeah…night," he replied, rising from the bed and heading for the door.

Scotty made it all the way to the door, his hand on the knob…but he couldn’t, for the life of him, force himself to turn it. He couldn’t leave her. He just couldn’t. Not after the night they’d had. Not after the danger she’d been in. Not when he stopped for a second to consider just how close he might have come to losing everything. In a flash, he felt himself descending into the abyss, that black hole he got in sometimes when he started thinking about all the losses he’d faced in his life, and realizing that a pain just as great, if not greater, could so easily have stabbed him through the heart again. So he couldn’t leave. He couldn’t leave her alone…and he couldn’t be alone himself…not now…not tonight. He just…couldn’t.

With a sigh, he let his hand drop from the doorknob and quietly crossed the room, where he slipped out of his jeans and laid down on the bed next to Kat, placing one hand tentatively on her belly and stretching the other over his head, where he lay for hours stroking her hair and listening to the soft, even breathing of her slumber.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when he finally rose from bed, grabbed his jeans, and crept down the hall to his own room.

Chapter Ten

Tell Me On A Sunday

As Scotty finished his story, Lilly found herself blinking back tears and smiling proudly. This was the Scotty Valens she knew. The guy who would drop everything and do anything to help someone he cared about, someone he loved. She knew he always ached to be able to ease other people’s pain, no matter what it cost him, and she was grateful, despite the harrowing circumstances, that he’d had that opportunity.

As she glanced at her co-workers, she saw Scotty lost in a thicket of memories, a faraway expression on his face…and then she looked over at Kat. Her colleague’s dark eyes were wide with amazement and shining with unshed tears, and Lilly could tell that she was deeply moved.

"I…never knew you stayed…" Kat said softly.

"Yeah, well," Scotty replied, his voice husky with emotion. "Like I said…I couldn’t leave."

He cleared his throat then, trying to look everywhere but at Miller, but she captured his gaze and held it fast. Lilly could only watch as the two of them just stared at one another, completely oblivious to her presence, their eyes saying everything their words couldn’t. The way they looked at each other was so tender, so intimate, that Lilly, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on something almost sacred, returned her attention to her paperwork. She’d seen enough…and it told her everything she needed to know.

Suddenly, Lilly heard footsteps behind her, and she turned to see Vera carrying Scotty and Kat’s daughter, whose sugar high had apparently worn off enough for her to be draped contentedly over Vera’s shoulder, her wild ebony curls contrasting sharply with his white dress shirt, her eyes closed in blissful slumber. When Vera caught Lilly grinning at him, he shot her a withering look, but she wasn’t fooled. She knew that her burly colleague, despite his outward gruffness, was absolutely thrilled at this turn of events.

Tearing her gaze from Scotty, Kat looked up at Vera, a tender, loving smile crossing her face as she rose from her desk and gently took her daughter out of his arms. The little girl stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up.

"Looks like you got the magic touch," she said softly, cradling her daughter over her shoulder.

"Your demonic little offspring seems to like me for some reason," he replied, his voice gruff, but his eyes shining, and Kat’s smile just widened.

Scotty glanced up and caressed the little girl lovingly with his gaze. "If you want me to take her to your mom’s, I can---" he offered, but Kat shook her head.

"No need…I’ve already got her," she answered softly, grabbing her purse from under her desk. "I’ll be back in a while." She glanced at Scotty again, her expression tender, almost shy, yet decidedly quizzical, then turned and headed out.

Scotty watched them depart, staring out into the hallway long after they vanished, then cleared his throat again and returned to his paperwork, hoping fervently to avoid the questions he was sure his partner was itching to ask.

"So…" she began brightly, and he instantly bristled.

"I take it things started to go a little better after that," she continued, and Scotty froze, amazed at the turn of conversation. He’d have been willing to bet any amount of money, any amount at all, that she’d interrogate him about the…the…well, whatever the hell it was that had just happened with Miller. Oh, sure, he’d seen the tears shimmering in Kat’s eyes, but he was certain she was just stung by the memory of what had happened that day. That was it. That was all it was. He was positive. And, given Lil’s tendency to make a mountain out of a molehill, her curious decision to keep the conversation firmly in the past was a surprise. A pleasant one.

And one that he intended to take full advantage of.

Mid-March, 2009

It was well after noon the next day when Scotty woke up and gingerly swung his feet over the side of the bed to take a couple tentative steps. He was pretty sure he’d be sore, what with all the furniture-lugging, but he realized, as the muscles in shoulders protested even the slightest movement with a fiery shot of pain and he found it impossible to fully straighten his arms, that he’d grossly underestimated just how sore he’d be. He was also fairly certain that a night spent lying quietly next to Kat, nearly-motionless in an effort not to disturb her or the baby, was partially to blame, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that. Not now. Not when an entire shower full of limitless hot water stood mere feet away, just waiting to ease his aches and pains.

After spending so long in the shower he thought for sure he’d become waterlogged, then using up about half the tube of muscle rub that he’d confiscated from Kat’s room (because, bed rest or not, he still wasn’t entirely sure he trusted her with a potentially lethal substance), the soreness had eased a surprising amount. Feeling rejuvenated, Scotty threw on a well-worn pair of jeans and a Phillies T-shirt, then wandered out into the hallway. He peeked into the third bedroom, Veronica’s room, but saw no sign of activity there, so, on impulse, feeling suddenly concerned about, and drawn to, the two people inside, he quietly knocked on Kat’s bedroom door.

"Yeah," she answered, sounding a good deal more chipper than she had the night before.

Encouraged by her response, Scotty pushed the door open and went inside to find his new roommate sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows and eyeing him with suspicion, although her expression was far friendlier than he’d expected.

"Hey," he greeted her with a smile.

"You come in here to check up on me?" she asked, her eyes twinkling and a teasing grin playing at the corners of her mouth. "Make sure I’m followin’ the rules?"

"Nah," Scotty retorted mildly, thrilled that she seemed to be back to her old self. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it until it wasn’t there. "Just came by to let you know you’re almost outta muscle rub."

Kat frowned. "Almost out? How the hell can I be almost out?" she demanded as she glanced around the bedside table for the tube, the trademark edge to her voice a welcome sound. "We only used a little bit."

"Yeah, but… I…mighta borrowed some…" he admitted with a sly grin, tossing the nearly-empty tube on the bed next to her. Kat picked it up and studied it in disbelief, then looked up at him.

"What the hell did you do, take a bath in it?" she asked, then wrinkled her nose as the minty aroma wafting off of him finally reached her. "Ewwww, you did," she concluded, squeezing some of the cream out onto her fingers and beginning to rub it into her overextended muscles.

Scotty was completely unapologetic. "That’s some damn good stuff, Miller," he told her, rolling his shoulders and swinging his arms in a demonstration of his newly-regained range of motion. "I could barely move when I woke up."

Kat glanced up at him and was forced to chuckle slightly. "It just smells like murder to me," she replied. "Don’t you remember that case with the opera singer?"

"See, now that’s why I’m confiscatin’ this stuff after you’re done," he informed her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "’Cause I don’t trust you with it. You could kill me in my sleep, y’know."

Kat looked up again, arching a brow. "Don’t do anything to make me wanna do that, then," she retorted as she flipped the cap closed and placed the tube on her bedside table, but her tender smile, one that was atypical for their usual snark, softened her words considerably.

Grinning broadly, Scotty grabbed the tube, tossed it to himself a couple times, then stuck it into the pocket of his jeans. "No promises," he grinned.

Kat eyed him quizzically. "So…that all you wanted? To tell me you took a damn shower in my muscle rub?" she asked. "I don’t let just anyone in here, y’know."

Scotty hesitated. He couldn’t give her the real reason, which was that he’d been concerned about her, wanted to make sure she and the baby were still all right, and, potentially even more disturbing than that, he’d realized that…he missed her. It was ridiculous, really, and he knew she’d laugh her ass off if she knew. Hell, he was on the verge of doing exactly that himself.

"Just figured you’d be bored," he said with a nonchalant shrug as he sat down at the foot of Kat’s bed. "Bed rest and all."

"Yeah?" she asked, glancing up with guarded interest. "What would you know about it?"

"Broke my leg in high school," he answered matter-of-factly. Her eyes widened slightly, and he took that as encouragement. "Playin’ football. Some jackass missed a block and a St. Vincent’s linebacker plowed right into my shin," he explained, still a touch bitter even after the nearly two decades that had passed since the incident. "Damn lucky I didn’t tear an ACL or somethin’."

Kat snorted derisively. "You? Football?"

"Yeah," Scotty replied, arching a brow. "Football."

"Well, no wonder you broke your leg," she retorted with a chuckle. "You’re a twig. Anyone from St. Vincent’s coulda snapped you in two."

Scotty was about to point out that, in his day, St. Vincent’s was a haven for eight-foot, four-hundred-pound genetic freaks, but then noticed Kat studying him and grew instantly uncomfortable. "What?" he asked. She was beginning to remind him of Lilly.

"You were that pretty-boy quarterback in high school, weren’t you?" she asked knowingly. "Cheerleaders hangin’ all over you right and left…Homecoming King…the works. Am I right?"

"Somethin’ like that," he shrugged with a wry grin. He had been the quarterback, started Varsity for three years, in fact…but the cheerleader part? Not so much. The only girl who’d been hanging all over him in high school was Elisa. Feeling a faint shadow cross his face, he moved to dispel it quickly before Kat could see it.

No such luck.

"Awww, no Homecoming King?" she pressed with mock sympathy.

Scotty shrugged again. "No cheerleaders," he replied.

Kat arched a skeptical brow. "You? The star quarterback? Surely not," she shot back.

Scotty responded with a rueful grin. "I had a girlfriend, Miller. She came by the two days I was laid up in bed…kept me from goin’ outta my mind."

Kat chuckled at that. "Girlfriend, huh?" she asked.

"Elisa…yeah," Scotty answered, beginning to drift into the ocean of memories that constantly lurked just beneath the surface, sometimes still overwhelming him at the most random of moments.

"She was your girlfriend even back then?" Kat asked incredulously, and Scotty sighed and got up from where he’d been perched at the foot of her bed and moved toward the bathroom, suddenly filled with the urge to do something. He usually sidestepped any mention of Elisa, hadn’t uttered her name aloud to anyone in years, but for some inexplicable reason, he felt almost compelled to talk about her now. He wasn’t quite sure why, though he had a sneaking suspicion the newly-regained camaraderie with Kat had something to do with it. One thing he did know, however, was that if he was going to dive back into that ocean and actually share his memories, out loud, with Miller…he couldn’t just be sitting there on the bed, trying to avoid her eyes. No, he needed to be doing something.

"Mind if I---?" he asked, glancing at the stack of boxes in the corner, and Kat shrugged her acceptance.

Scotty hoisted a box from the top of the stack and plopped it on the bathroom counter. "We were just kids when we met. Fourteen years old," he began, his words punctuated by the sound of the tape ripping from the top of the box. "I was playin’ stickball on my block with the neighbor kids, and I looked up and…there she was. Love at first sight." The tape off, he tossed it into the plastic bag they were using as a temporary trash can and began to rummage through the box’s contents.

"That actually happens, huh?" Kat asked, and Scotty could’ve sworn, even through the intentionally noisy din of his unpacking, he heard the tiniest hint of wistfulness in her voice.

He paused for a second, staring into the box as though it contained the answers to all the questions that still haunted him. "Guess it does," he replied thoughtfully. "Sometimes, anyway."

"So you two were together…from high school until she…?" Kat trailed off, sounding suddenly unsure how to proceed.

"Few months before, actually," he said, feeling that old familiar guilt rising up in his chest as he returned to his task, beginning to sort through the various items and toss them, almost at random, into Kat’s bathroom drawers.

"She was schizophrenic," he explained, pausing instinctively to allow Kat to make the sympathetic noises he’d come to expect whenever he revealed Elisa’s diagnosis, and was taken aback slightly when none came. "Anyway, the meds’d work for a while, and she’d be back to her old self, and we’d start plannin’ and dreamin’ again…but then they’d quit workin’, and she’d start hearin’ voices…" Elisa’s terrified screams echoing once more around the chamber of his mind, he hesitated for a second, then willed them into silence and pressed on. "So we’d go back to the doctor and get stronger meds…round and round until I just couldn’t ride the roller coaster with her anymore. So I broke it off…and then…" he trailed off, the ocean mere moments from claiming him.

"And you think it’s your fault," Kat realized softly.

Scotty shrugged, wordlessly conceding the point. He really, really didn’t want to go into that. Not now.

"So that’s why you’re so damn protective…why you won’t leave well enough alone," she continued thoughtfully, almost to herself, and Scotty’s only reply was to continue tossing stuff into the bathroom drawers. He wasn’t sure where Kat wanted it all, and he was positive she’d rearrange it later, but he needed something to do, something physical to take his mind off the emotional stuff that was just---

"Well, whatever works for you," he heard her say, and he stopped dead in his tracks. That had been about the last thing he’d expected from her.

Even though he didn’t turn to look at her, she must have sensed the questions radiating from him, because she sighed softly and continued. "Look, do I think it was your fault? Hell, no. Do I wish you didn’t? Yeah, I do." She sighed again, sounding almost weary. "But if that’s what keeps you goin’, if that’s who makes you who you are…" she shrugged. "Then who the hell am I to tell you anything different?"

Scotty blinked in surprise as he slowly shut the top drawer of the bathroom cabinet and mulled over what Kat had just told him. On those rare occasions when he actually talked about Elisa, whoever he was talking to invariably tried to convince him not to blame himself, but Kat…his friend, his roommate, the mother of his child…she was accepting him. As he was. She wasn’t trying to fix him, she wasn’t trying to change his mind…but she was making it perfectly clear that she didn’t hold him responsible for Elisa’s death, which, to his surprise, actually helped. It was, he realized, the most refreshing thing anyone had ever said to him on the subject.

"Thanks," he replied, a little thickly, then decided that he’d had enough of the past. His past, anyway. He wasn’t a top-notch detective for nothing…and it was Kat’s turn to squirm a little.

"So…who were you in high school?" Scotty asked with a grin, and he took a perverse sense of pleasure in watching the way her eyes sparked with just a hint of warning.

"I bet you were a cheerleader," he continued brightly, knowing full well that there was no way in hell that was true. "One of them perky girls with the ponytail?" Her glare sharpened all the more, and Scotty couldn’t even begin to describe how wonderful that made him feel. This…this snark, the conversation, the simple togetherness…it filled his heart with a happiness and a contentment he hadn’t had in years…decades, even. It was great, he thought, almost giddy with the realization that this arrangement…this odd living situation…just might work out after all.

"Do I look like I was a cheerleader to you, jock strap?" she demanded, folding her arms across her chest as he blinked in surprise. Glaring at him, she issued another derisive snort. "I ate cheerleaders for breakfast."

"You?" he echoed, raking his eyes from her head to her toes and back again. "No way. You’re a half-pint. It’d take you a week and a half to finish a whole cheerleader…and she’d probably go bad before then."

Kat hesitated for a moment, trying to glare at him, but she simply couldn’t hold back the peals of merry laughter that finally burst forth. Scotty joined in, reveling in the fact that, after all that had happened the day before, the fight and the scare and all the rest…he was still able to make her laugh. Gradually, her giggles quieted, and then she sighed in defeat, glanced up at him almost sheepishly and seemed to brace herself for what she was about to say.

"I was a band nerd," she admitted quietly, suddenly deeply absorbed in picking the pills off the fuzzy blue blanket covering her lap. "Played the damn clarinet."

Scotty burst out laughing anew at this. "You? The Badass of Homicide? You played the clarinet?"

"Yes," she retorted mildly, with as fierce a glare as she could muster, which wasn’t all that fierce, considering that she was once again struggling mightily not to laugh herself, "and if you tell anyone else, so help me, I’ll pop you in the mouth."

Scotty sobered instantly, disguising his few remaining chuckles as a cough. Band nerd twenty years ago or not, she wasn’t kidding about her popping abilities. He still remembered that punch she’d delivered in the car that fateful October night.

His laughter under control, he eyed her slyly. "So…if you were a band nerd… then where’d you get the mean right hook?" he asked.

"I got brothers, Valens," she informed him. "I was the runt of the litter, and a tomboy to boot."

Scotty choked back another laugh, and Kat leveled him with one of her most withering glares. He knew he was baiting her, but he simply couldn’t get enough. It was just so damn much fun.

"Hey, don’t let the band uniform deceive you," she ordered. "I’da kicked your scrawny little pretty-boy ass to the moon."

Scotty arched his eyebrows at her. "Scrawny?" he retorted, slightly taken aback. "Scrawny? Hey, who d’you think carried all your furniture up the stairs yesterday?"

Kat smiled cryptically, and he could have sworn he saw her looking him up and down, but she hid it so well that he couldn’t be sure. She seemed about to say something, but then he saw eyes widen as her hand flew to her belly, and he froze in alarm.

"Y’okay?" he asked softly, trying desperately to conceal the sudden icy panic that was racing throughout his body. He didn’t want her to know he was worrying about her again…not after the fight they’d had, not when things were going so well.

Kat looked up at him, and he knew, to his chagrin, that she could tell he was concerned, but rather than snipe at him as he’d expected, she merely gave him a tender, reassuring smile. "Everything’s fine," she said. "Little princess here is just sayin’ hello."

Scotty stood still, eyes wide in amazement as all the overwhelming, awestruck feelings from the night before came rushing back in a flood that he was absolutely powerless to stop.

"You…wanna come feel?" she asked softly, almost shyly, all traces of snark and sarcasm gone, and Scotty was dumbfounded, both at her invitation and at the fact that she could turn her Badass of Homicide routine on and off at the flip of a switch. It was one of the most fascinating things he’d ever seen.

Quickly, before Kat could switch back again, he crossed the room, lowered himself to sit next to her, and let her gently guide his hand to the spot where she’d felt the kicking, but her belly was suddenly motionless.

"You playin’ hard to get, little one?" she asked softly, glancing down at her abdomen, and Scotty grinned. Kat looked up at him then and met his eyes. "V was like that, too," she said. "Anyone else put their hand on my belly, she’d freeze…but as soon as it was just me, she’d kick like there was no tomorrow."

Giving her belly an affectionate, if a bit awkward, pat, Scotty chuckled, rose from the bed, and returned to the corner of the bedroom where the boxes were still piled high. "So…what was it like?" he inquired. "Bein’ pregnant with V?"

Kat was silent for a long moment, and he could tell without even looking at her that she was deep in thought, lost in a thicket of memories, so he continued unpacking, enjoying the companionable silence and letting Kat have some time alone with her recollections.

"Scary as hell," she finally confessed, and her words were punctuated by a sudden dull thwack as Scotty dropped a large bottle of body wash on the bathroom floor, so surprised was he that she was admitting…fear. To him, of all people. Guess you never really know someone ‘til you live with ‘em, he mused.

"How’s that?" he asked lightly as he bent to pick up the bottle, not wanting to intrude on her thoughts or push her too hard.

"I was young, black, and single, Scotty," she informed him matter-of-factly. "Damn near broke, livin’ in a crappy-ass apartment…got stuck on desk duty for the duration…and I was lucky I even got that." Smiling somewhat ruefully, she sighed and shook her head slowly, hesitating for a few long moments before seeming to sweep that particular set of memories aside. "Anyway…ended up movin’ in with my mom for a couple years until I could save enough money to get someplace in a better neighborhood."

Scotty maintained a helpless silence while he retrieved a stack of towels from a box and stashed them in the bathroom closet. The only thing he could think of to say to her was that he was sorry, but he knew that sympathy wouldn’t be well-received. Not by her. And definitely not today.

Chasing all thoughts of sympathy from his mind, he switched gears, deciding to repay the favor she’d done for him moments before when he was the one lost in his painful memories. "Sounds like you made it work," he replied matter-of-factly, and he could sense her surprise even from all the way across the room. Point for you, Valens, he congratulated himself.

"Yeah," she agreed, with just a touch of quiet pride mixed in with the wistfulness. "Wasn’t ideal…but we made it work." She chuckled then. "My water broke in the middle of an interrogation, if you can believe that," she told him, almost sheepishly. "I wasn’t due for another four weeks, and I wasn’t that big…"

"Guess Veronica just decided she couldn’t wait to meet her mama," he said with a grin.

"Guess so," she replied, her voice tender and reflective.

After a few seconds of thoughtful silence, Scotty cleared his throat, hating to disturb the moment, but so indescribably fascinated with all he was learning about Kat that he was desperate to keep her talking.

"So…you make it to the hospital in time?" he asked, kicking himself for asking what was, no doubt, a stupid, lame-ass question.

Kat laughed outright at this. "Hell, yeah," she replied. "I was in labor for nineteen and a half hours with her."

Scotty’s eyes widened. Nineteen and a half hours? "That…sounds like a lot…" he managed.

"It’s about average, I think," she shrugged. "For first babies, anyway. Second one’s supposed to be shorter."

Scotty smiled with just a hint of relief. At least they had that going for them. As he tried to wrap his mind around the concept of nineteen hours of labor, he was suddenly overcome with curiosity as to just what, exactly, they’d be getting into on the day of their daughter’s birth.

"Do you remember much of it?" he asked tentatively. "Inquirin’ minds wanna know…"

With a slight smile, Kat returned her attention to the blanket over her lap. "Everyone tells you it hurts like hell, so I was kinda expectin’ that part…but to be honest? That wasn’t what fazed me. Wasn’t half as bad as everyone said." She chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. "Hell, bein’ shot hurt worse."

Scotty grinned slightly as he shoved another pile of towels into the bathroom closet. Hearing that childbirth didn’t hurt as much as getting shot didn’t make him relish the prospect of taking a bullet any more than he had previously, but he was relieved for Kat that it hadn’t been as bad as she’d been expecting, and quite frankly, he wasn’t surprised. He wasn’t expecting anything physical to faze her.

But there was still something, a shimmering, unspoken something hovering in the air, something else, something more she wasn’t telling him…and he was suddenly dying to know what it was. He bided his time, though, straightening towels, tossing the rug onto the floor, and hanging up the shower curtain. She’d tell him, he was almost sure of it. That vibe in the air, that was the same vibe he got in the interview room when someone was about to confess, and all he needed to do was sit tight and wait. So he did.

Sure enough, after a few moments, Kat spoke. "What nobody told me was …" she trailed off, seemingly gathering her courage, and then she sighed, almost in defeat, and continued, her voice suddenly thickened slightly, "…how lonely it’d be."

Scotty whirled around at this and headed back into the bedroom, a tube of toothpaste in one hand and a couple bottles of nail polish in the other, knowing that the concern and sympathy was showing in his eyes, on his face, hell, probably even in his toes, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop it any more than he could’ve stopped her from trying to carry in that damn end table all by herself.

"Lonely?" he repeated blankly.

Kat sighed, almost reluctantly, before raising her eyes to his. "I was four weeks early," she began. "My mom was on a church trip to Atlantic City…she couldn’t get back in time."

"Okay," Scotty continued, hoping to probe more deeply, knowing that there was still something there…

"And I was okay with it," Kat went on. "At least for the most part. But…somewhere in the middle…I didn’t want my mom…" she trailed off, then shuddered. "I wanted…Jarrod." She sighed again and shook her head, the look in her eyes speaking of years of regret. "I hated that son of a bitch for what he did, what we did…but right then, when I was scared and alone and in pain…" she paused and looked up at Scotty, then shrugged slightly. "I wanted him there."

"Where was he?" Scotty asked, before he could stop himself.

"Jail," she replied matter-of-factly, with just the barest hint of a proud smile. "Put him there myself."

Scotty’s heart wrenched with the twin pangs of dread and sympathy for what he knew she was about to say. "So…you were completely alone?" he asked softly.

"Oh, the nurses were there…doctors, too, I think…hell, I don’t remember. I felt like I was in a damn tunnel, and I couldn’t see any light at the end of it until the doctor told me to reach down," Kat continued, smiling fondly as she finished her sentence.

"Reach down?" he echoed. He was starting to feel like a parrot.

Kat glanced up at him, her tender smile still in place. "I was crownin’, Scotty," she explained. "That’s when the baby’s head comes out. And I got to feel that. Got to put my hand on the top of her head. That was…" she trailed off and shook her head slightly, happy tears suddenly shining in her eyes. "I didn’t care about anything else after that."

"And then you weren’t alone anymore," he finished softly.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice sounding faraway, but Scotty didn’t miss the shadow that flitted across her face. It told him, though she’d never admit it with her words, that she was dreading, if not outright fearing, that feeling again, that horrifying loneliness, that dark tunnel...and, he resolved suddenly, he’d be damned if he let that happen.

"Listen," he began earnestly, discarding the toothpaste and nail polish on top of a box and reclaiming his seat at the foot of her bed. "That ain’t gonna happen to you this time around. You ain’t gonna be alone. Not if I got anything to say about it."

Kat’s dark eyes widened. "You wanna be there? In the delivery room?" she asked, and he could tell that she was simultaneously surprised…and yet somehow, on a deeper level…not. Not in the slightest.

"Yeah," he answered. "If…if you’ll let me."

"You’re her father, Scotty," Kat answered softly. "Of course I’ll let you." She sighed, then met his eyes, her gaze pure and sincere. "I…I want you there. I told you last night that I need you…and I…I meant it," she finished, a little tentatively, and Scotty was more deeply touched by this than just about anything he’d ever heard in his life.

"I’ll be there," he assured her. "I promise. Start to finish. No matter what."

"Yeah?" she asked, with that same trusting look she’d given him the night they’d gotten themselves into all this in the first place.

"Yeah," he replied with a grin, then reached a hand tentatively toward her belly. He thought to ask permission first, silently, with his eyes, and when she nodded and smiled, he rested his hand tentatively on her abdomen. "I don’t wanna miss a thing with her."

They sat there silently for a moment, Scotty hoping to feel another one of those flutters, but the belly was still motionless.

"Don’t worry," Kat reassured him. "You’ll feel ‘em more in a few weeks. They’re just gonna get stronger and stronger."

"No kiddin’?" he asked, his heart filled with anticipation.

Kat chuckled and arched a brow. "Toward the end, it’s gonna look like someone’s breakdancin’ in there," she told him.

"I can’t wait," Scotty replied eagerly as a strange realization stole his breath: he was already completely, irretrievably, head-over-heels in love with his daughter.

Kat, of course, was completely oblivious to the fact that his universe was tilting on its axis. "Course you can’t," she responded with a wry grin. "’Cause it ain’t your bladder she’ll be breakdancin’ on."

Scotty chuckled and rose from the recliner. "Aw, you know you love it," he shot back, returning to the bathroom to finish unpacking.

"Yeah," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she gave her enlarged belly another gentle rub. "I do."

Chapter Eleven

Orange Ball of Love

Scotty glanced up then to find Lilly grinning at him, her eyes twinkling with amusement, joy, and that occasional hint of smugness he sometimes saw reflected in their sapphire depths when she was on the verge of cracking open a case. When he and Lil were in the interview room, about to nail a doer to the wall, he loved that look. When it was directed at him, though… it sent a shiver down his spine.

"So," she began brightly, "that rule you two made about the girls from the bar…"

"Yeah?" Scotty responded suspiciously.

"You ever broken that rule?" she asked, keeping her eyes firmly on the notes she was reviewing in preparation for another interview. The Battlestar Galactica-obsessed Internet stalker had confessed to being involved in the murder of Elliot King…but she wasn’t alone. And she’d named names. One of whom was waiting in the interview room at that very moment.

Scotty shrugged. "Nah," he replied.

"Figured as much," Lilly commented nonchalantly, flipping a page in her file.

Scotty rolled his eyes and heaved an exasperated sigh. Dammit, she was doing it again. She was reading his mind, she was digging around in his innermost thoughts, and he knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she was about to let loose with something he didn’t want to hear.

"You hittin’ on me, Rush?" he asked jokingly, trying to divert her attention with humor, but he knew before the words were even out of his mouth that futile would be a generous description of his attempt.

Lilly chuckled. "Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Scotty," she answered with a grin, then deftly steered the conversation back to its original topic. "But it does raise the question…have you even had so much as coffee with a woman since you moved in with Miller?"

Scotty bristled, but he had to admit to just a hint of relief. There it was. The question she’d been dying to ask all day. Now, he realized, he could quit trying to avoid it, and start trying to convince his partner that she was reading something into absolutely nothing.

"Look, Lil," he began defensively. "My love life is none of your business. And if I’d rather spend my Saturday nights in my PJs eatin’ pizza and watchin’ Dora videos with a two-year-old, then so be it. I’m a dad now. I don’t have time for all that crap."

"Don’t have time, or don’t have the desire?" she asked, with a pointed arch of her brow as she rose from her desk and gathered up her files.

"You sayin’ I ain’t---?" he began.

"What I’m sayin’, Scotty," Lilly replied coolly, "is that maybe you’re not lookin’ for anything else…because everything in the world you want is right in front of you, and you’re just too blind to see it."

Scotty gave a slight, lopsided grin and shook his head. "You been watchin’ too many late-night old movies, Rush," he argued, trying to conceal his irritation. "There’s nothin’ goin’ on."

"Don’t be so sure," Lilly replied calmly, then tossed a file on her partner’s desk and quickly changed the subject. "We got a potential co-conspirator in the box as we speak. Crazed fan of the lead actress. British guy. Real piece of work, looks like. You in?"

Scotty nodded and grabbed the file. The crazier this guy turned out to be, the better, he decided. Anything to distract him from the borderline crazy thoughts that were suddenly swirling around in his own mind.

***

Kat breathed a sigh of relief as she headed down the hallway of Headquarters, her sleeping daughter in her arms. Normally, since she’d already missed a chunk of work going to the day-care center to pick her up in the first place, Kat would’ve jumped at the chance to have Scotty provide the transportation…but on this day, she simply wanted to get out of there. Things were just plain weird in the office, with all that...reminiscing...or whatever it was. It had been just a normal day until the day-care center called, and when she got back, there'd been a decidedly strange vibe. She didn’t know what the hell it was about, but her instinct was to flee, so flee she did.

Once outside, she carefully buckled the sleeping child in her car seat, feathered a kiss across the girl’s caramel-colored forehead, then climbed in and started the car. She’d made the trek from Headquarters to her mother’s place so frequently made that the car seemed to know the way on its own, so she was content to let it do the driving and have some time alone with her thoughts.

Much to her chagrin, however, despite the fact that she’d physically removed herself from the office, it seemed that the strange vibe had come with her, and Kat found her mind wandering…and wandering in a horrifying direction. Spending the entire afternoon reminiscing was bad enough, but there were other things she was remembering, things she didn’t want to remember, but her mind was suddenly unable to think about anything else.

Three days of bed rest had driven Kat nearly to distraction, but she’d viewed them as a sentence she had to serve for her foolish actions on moving day. All things considered, three days in bed was a light sentence, a mere slap on the wrist, and knowing that the penalty could have been worse, terrifyingly, heartbreakingly worse, and, that she had, in fact, served worse sentences in her life, she endured the three days without complaint. Veronica, home on spring break, had spent a decent amount of time lying next to her, doing homework, reading, or watching that horse movie she loved so much…and Scotty had also made it easier, popping in every so often to keep her company. Kat was surprised, and slightly irritated, to realize that she enjoyed his visits. She wouldn’t go so far as to admit to looking forward to them, of course, but…the company was nice, especially that Monday evening, when he’d come back from a day of chasing doers with some Chinese takeout and a detailed recap of the day’s progress on the case.

On Tuesday evening, though, despite everyone’s best efforts, she simply couldn’t remain in bed another second. Even though she’d tossed those prescription painkillers the moment she’d awakened on Sunday morning, the ache in her muscles and ligaments had faded considerably, and Dr. Bridwell had told her she could start resuming her normal activities, albeit slowly, as soon as her body would let her.

Suddenly determined to get up and rejoin the rest of the world, Kat gingerly swung her legs over the side of the bed and took a few experimental steps around her bedroom, thrilled that she felt only the slightest twinges of pain. Emboldened by this, she took a slow stroll up and down the second-floor hallway, peeking into Veronica’s bedroom to see if her daughter was anywhere to be found. The bedroom was empty, but Kat noticed that her prized end table had not only made it upstairs unscathed, but it had been polished until the painted white wood gleamed in the faint glow of the streetlights, and, to her amazement, was even adorned with a vase of fresh tulips…Veronica’s favorite flower. Briefly, she wondered how the hell that could’ve possibly happened, but then an amazed smile touched the corners of her lips as she realized…it had to have been Scotty. It had to be a wordless apology, his way of making up for the other day. As she spent a few minutes staring at that precious end table and absorbing all it symbolized, then and now, a flood of warmth filled her heart. Then, satisfied that she could safely make a trip downstairs to grab a snack, she did, carefully clinging to the railing as she descended.

When she reached the living room, the sight that met her eyes was no less a shock than that end table had been. Veronica and Scotty were both sacked out on the couch, their attention glued to the television, and Kat rolled her eyes to discover that V was watching that damn horse movie again. This time, though, she’d roped Scotty into watching it with her. Kat had no way of knowing whether Scotty had seen it before, but she knew Veronica watched it as many times per week as Kat would let her. She had no idea what her daughter’s particular fascination with this movie was, as V had never expressed any interest in horses, really, but this movie had her rapt attention…and judging from the look on Scotty’s face, she’d apparently won herself a convert.

Kat chuckled softly, and Scotty turned around. "Hey," he greeted her. "What’re you doin’ outta bed?" he asked, his voice gentle, but pleased.

"I can move around with no pain," she replied, spinning in a slow circle to prove her point, and she couldn’t help but notice a proud, yet slightly relieved, smile crossing Scotty’s face. "Just came down to grab a snack."

Scotty hoisted himself off the couch. "What sounds good?" he asked. "Take a seat…I’ll get it for you."

Kat started to protest, but then met his eyes, saw the relief there, and, after a moment, decided to humor him and accept his help. Smiling, she sank down on the couch next to her daughter. "Just…whatever," she replied. "I’m not picky."

"You got it," Scotty grinned, then headed off to the kitchen. After a moment, he returned carrying two pints of Ben and Jerry’s, wordlessly handed Kat the Chocolate Fudge Brownie, then settled into an armchair.

"How’d you know?" she asked with a broad smile, removing the lid from the ice cream and taking the two spoons Scotty held out to her.

He smirked up at her briefly. "Pregnant woman…ice cream…it ain’t rocket science, Miller," he replied, then dug his own spoon into the second pint.

Kat chuckled, then wrapped her arm around Veronica, who held the ice cream, and the two polished off the entire pint while they watched the rest of the movie. When it was over, all three of them were yawning, so they bid one another good night and headed off to their respective bedrooms.

Despite her three days in bed, Kat fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

***

"Don’t say anything. Just get on," she heard herself saying. When the cowboy hesitated briefly, she inclined her head, and her voice, seemingly of its own volition, urged him onward. "C’mon."

"I don’t ever… wanna hear you say…you got no game," he panted, almost teasingly, and the voice, and the words, were familiar enough to force their way through the fog of her searing need and snap her eyes open…

…and then she finally saw his flushed, sweat-streaked, yet very, very familiar face in a faint shaft of sunlight.

"Scotty?" she asked incredulously, and the cowboy’s chuckles grew louder, his cocky, shit-eating, ear-to-ear grin leaving absolutely no doubt in her mind as to his true identity.

With a gasp, Kat sat bolt upright in bed, looking wildly around the room. She wasn’t in a barn anymore, thank God, and the air of her bedroom was refreshingly cool compared to the stifling heat of her dream. She’d been pinned against the wall of a barn---a barn, for God’s sake---about to have sex…really, really damn hot sex, from the looks of it…with Scotty Valens?

Oh, no way. No way in hell. Nope. Uh-uh. Not possible. Not with Scotty. It had all been a dream. It was just a dream…

It may have been just a dream, she realized, but her frantic heartbeat, panting breaths, and the sweat that trickled down her face and drenched her pajamas were all, to her dismay, very much real. As was the aggressively unsatisfied ache at her core, the insane longing to just finish what Scotty had started…

…No. Not Scotty. Hell, no, not Scotty. It was the cowboy. From Veronica’s horse movie. Him she could fantasize about. And, yeah, okay, there was some resemblance. A slight resemblance. From a certain angle. She supposed. Maybe. To some people, they might look alike. And besides, who could fathom the world of dreams, especially hormone-induced, weird-ass pregnancy dreams?

Kat sighed in defeat as her breathing began to return to normal, remembering that this sort of thing had happened to her before. When she was pregnant with Veronica,she’d had some pretty racy dreams about Jarrod…extremely racy dreams, she amended…but that was different. By that point, Jarrod was in jail where he belonged, and she had no contact with him. That was the way she’d wanted it. She never wanted to see his face again, and she prayed nightly that her child wouldn’t resemble him in any way. Those prayers, anyway, were answered; Veronica was almost the spitting image of Kat’s favorite cousin. She may not have been able to stop Jarrod Jones from invading her dreams, but at least she could keep him the hell out of her life.

But this …this was a whole new ball game. This was her co-worker, her friend, her roommate…the guy she was building an admittedly unorthodox life with, the guy she saw practically every minute of every day. So the dream wasn’t about Scotty. It couldn’t have been about Scotty. It was about that damn movie cowboy.

Suddenly beyond peeved with herself and her runaway hormones, Kat slid out of bed and stormed downstairs to the kitchen, desperately wanting a drink, or a cigarette, or maybe both, but opting instead to fan herself with a Chinese takeout menu and rummage through the refrigerator, searching for something to eat, although, for the moment, she was grateful just for the cool air that snaked up around her heated skin and began to ease the lingering aftereffects from her dream.

"You okay, Kat?" she heard a familiar voice behind her ask, and she gasped in surprise, slammed the fridge door shut, and whirled to face him.

"Fine," she snapped.

Goddammit, Valens, she swore inwardly as he stepped into a patch of light provided by the street lamps outside. I know you got your own room, but couldn’t you put on a fuckin’ shirt before you go out wanderin’ around at three in the mornin’? She was waging an epic battle with her pride, which demanded that she look anywhere but at him, and the rest of her, which was positively dying to know if Scotty Valens was built like that cowboy. She’d seen him in a similar state of undress before, of course…but she was drunk the first time and furious the second, and she realized, as her eyes insisted on wandering despite the shrieks of her common sense, that she hadn't remembered a damn thing.

"Okay, just thought I heard---" he started, but she cut him off faster than he could blink. Oh, God, what had he heard? With a shudder, she decided she couldn’t bear knowing.

"Goddammit, Scotty, I’m fine," she insisted.

He raised an eyebrow at her and looked pointedly at the sweat-soaked collar of the PPD T-shirt she always slept in.

"Hot flash," she explained hastily, fanning herself all the more vigorously with the menu.

"Hot flash?" he repeated skeptically as he folded his arms across his chest. "Thought that was just durin’ menopause."

"Do I look like I’m in menopause to you?" she demanded, glancing down at the ever-growing bump in her abdomen.

"No," Scotty replied slowly.

"Then they ain’t just for menopause, okay?" she retorted harshly.

Scotty raised his hands in self-defense and took a step backward. "Okay, okay, jeez. Just wanted to make sure you were all right."

Kat sighed, all the anger bleeding out of her as she looked up at him. That damned compassionate expression in his eyes…she was discovering, to her chagrin, that all her carefully-honed defenses were a bit on the fragile side when it came to that particular look. Scotty was just worried, that was all. It wasn’t his fault he cared about her health, especially not after what had happened over the weekend. It wasn’t his fault he was concerned about the baby. And…it also wasn’t his fault he looked even more like that damn cowboy than she’d first thought. Wasn’t his fault the muscles of his abdomen rippled just as much as the cowboy’s, wasn’t his fault his chest was every bit as chiseled, wasn’t his fault his…

Oh, for God’s sake, Miller, are you out of your mind? her brain shrieked at her, as images from her dream flooded into her memory and sent a new flush of heat racing throughout her body.

"I’m fine," she repeated quietly, suddenly riveted by the patterns on the linoleum floor.

She heard Scotty chuckle. "Yeah, okay," he replied skeptically. "It’s just that---"

"Hormones, Valens," she fired back at him, before he had a chance to finish his thought. "Your freakin’ child is screwin’ with my hormones like you wouldn’t believe, okay?"

"I’m…sorry?" Scotty apologized helplessly, and Kat was instantly contrite. After all, it wasn’t entirely his fault she was pregnant. Although those goddamn shoulders certainly hadn’t hurt anything.

"’S’okay," she mumbled, then returned to the fridge, where she took far longer than necessary to retrieve an apple, spending her time taking a few deep breaths of the cold air and willing herself back to some semblance of normal. It was just a dream. It was just her crazy-ass hormones. That was it. That was all it was. That was all it ----

"Look," Scotty began from behind her, "if there’s anything I can do for ya, just let me know, okay?"

Oh, good Lord. A fresh shot of horror raced through her veins and she nearly choked. He did not mean what her wobbly, hormone-addled brain was making it sound like he meant. He. Did. Not. And, even if he did, no way in hell was she taking him up on it. They were friends. Roommates. Co-workers. Raising a child together. Besides, she’d already been there, already done that with him, and had no need, whatsoever, to revisit any of it ever again. Right? Right??

After another few deep breaths, Kat was confident that she’d regained most of her composure, or at least enough of it that she could face Scotty again, so she retreated from the fridge and fixed him with a bright smile.

"I’m fine," she reassured him. "Really." Then, she decided to appeal to his ego in hopes that that would distract him enough to keep him from asking any more questions. "Thanks for checkin’ on me," she added.

As expected, Scotty grinned proudly. "You’re welcome," he replied. "Glad you’re okay." This time, she felt like there was at least a small chance he believed her, and she sighed inwardly with relief. She really was okay. Things were back to normal. It was just Scotty. No barn. No cowboy. Just Scotty. Just…

So why the hell were her eyes raking over his chest again? Good God, Miller, get a grip.

"I’m goin’ back to bed," she blurted out, then, without waiting for a response, she left him standing there in the kitchen. She knew without even looking that his face would be creased with a mystified frown, confronted, no doubt, with the full force of these particular pregnancy hormones for the first time in his life. But she also knew, in addition to that frown, were that chest, those abs, those damn shoulders…

Well, Miller, she encouraged herself as she took a defiant bite out of her apple. If you had to get drunk, screw a co-worker, and fuck up the rest of your miserable life…you coulda done a helluva lot worse.

Chapter Twelve

I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry

As she recalled that very…vivid…dream she’d had in her second trimester, Kat felt a curious mixture of heat and chills running throughout her whole body. She hadn’t thought about that dream for years, and had absolutely no idea why she still remembered it so clearly. Not that she minded, necessarily…she just wished now, as then, that it had ended a few seconds earlier, when the cowboy’s identity was still a mystery.

Despite how unsettling the dream had been, and how running into Scotty in the kitchen at three in the morning had helped not at all, Kat had managed to go back to sleep that night, and after putting a few more hours’ slumber between herself, Scotty, and the dream, then seeing him in the cold, sober light of morning, she’d been able to return to normal. Mostly. It helped that they were both fully dressed for their next kitchen encounter, and Kat had been too focused on getting Veronica up, fed, and out the door on time to pay even the slightest bit of attention to her new roommate.

Well, okay, she’d paid some attention. She’d gained a new appreciation for what Scotty Valens had under that suit… but that was it. And it was, as she’d told herself repeatedly that morning, just a dream. Hell, if she’d seen Jarrod after any of the dreams she’d had about him, there would have been no telling how she’d have reacted. But she kept reminding herself that it was just a dream, dammit, and it had absolutely no bearing on real life, so she needed to put it behind her, treat Scotty like she always did, and act normal on the outside until she felt that way on the inside.

With a touch of pride, Kat smiled at the memory of how she’d even managed to keep her cool that morning at work, when Stillman informed them that they’d received a new lead on a case…one that required Scotty and Vera to go spend some time at Philly’s largest country bar.

“Ride ‘em, cowboy,” Vera had snarked as he’d grabbed his coat from the rack.

“Yee-haw,” was Scotty’s sarcastic reply, and that exchange caused Kat to choke on her coffee. She felt her roommate’s curious eyes on her as she coughed and spluttered and tried to regain her composure.

“Y’okay?” he asked her, his brow creased with concern.

“Fine,” she croaked. “Just…got the coffee down the wrong pipe.”

“Okay,” he’d conceded, with a brief, searching glance. Kat shot him the fiercest glare she could muster, and despite her weakened state, it must have worked, because he’d studied her for only a split second more before shrugging and heading out of the office, no doubt chalking up her strange behavior to pregnancy hormones. You got no idea, Valens, she replied silently, eternally grateful that morning for her dark skin. She had no idea what the hell she’d have done if she were the type to blush.

As Kat turned onto her mother’s street, she shook her head as though to physically clear it of all the sudden, unwelcome thoughts. Goddammit, she swore inwardly. What the hell is goin’ on with me today? Why am I thinkin’ about all this crap again?

Determined to put the past firmly out of her mind, she sped up a bit, focusing every bit of her attention on driving the last few blocks to her mother’s place. She did fine, too…until she had to unbuckle her daughter from her car seat.

She’s so beautiful when she’s sleepin’, Kat thought as she opened the back door of the car and gazed at the little girl, who still slept peacefully, clutching her beloved purple stuffed octopus to her chest. Despite the fact that she could be a holy terror during her waking hours, Kat admitted with a grin, it was all worth it when her daughter was asleep. Only then would she hold still long enough for Kat to take in the girl’s creamy, caramel-colored skin, just a few shades lighter than her own; her full, rounded cheeks, her long eyelashes that, for the moment, hid her eyes, eyes that were a warm chocolate brown and twinkled with more-than-occasional mischief…eyes that were a carbon copy of Scotty’s. Her coal-black hair curled naturally in tight ringlets, another contribution from the Valens side of the family. For the longest time, Kat had heard rumors that Scotty had possessed a head full of wild curls as a child. He’d flatly refused to show her proof, but one Saturday afternoon while he was out, his mother had come over for coffee and some quality time with her granddaughter. When Kat relayed Scotty’s reticence to show her pictures, Rosa Valens had whipped out her wallet and shown Kat a well-aged photo of a decidedly curly-haired two-year-old Scotty, then sworn her to secrecy, which Kat managed to promise despite her gales of laughter.

With a blissful sigh, Kat paused in her unbuckling, taking a few moments, moments that were all-too-fleeting, to just watch her daughter sleep. Everyone always tells you they grow up so fast, she mused, brushing a stray curl from the little girl’s forehead, but you never really realize just how true that is until it happens to your own.

Not surprisingly, it wasn’t long before she found her thoughts wandering into the past yet again…

June 17, 2009

It started with a backache. That was all it was. Just a backache. A little menstrual cramp-like twinge at five in the morning that awakened Kat, made her massage her lower back just a bit, then think about beginning the minutes-long struggle to roll over. She’d been sleeping soundly on her left side for about five hours at that point, and she figured that, since the menu of comfortable positions was dramatically reduced by this stage in her pregnancy, perhaps she was just stiff, so she decided to roll over to her other side. By the time her sleep-addled mind had reached this conclusion, however, the pain had disappeared, so Kat abandoned her plans to switch sides, and within seconds, she was fast asleep once more.

The pain revisited her again when she woke up for good a couple hours later. It was a bit stronger this time, and, despite her concerted efforts to hide it, she noticed a worried frown crease Scotty’s features that morning as he made the coffee and she poured a bowl of cereal for Veronica.

“Y'okay?” he asked, his voice rich with concern as he studied her carefully.

“Fine,” Kat replied, squeezing past Scotty to stash the cereal back in the cupboard. “Just late pregnancy aches and pains. Nothin’ to worry about, and nothin’ I can’t handle,” she finished, with a pointed glance in his direction as she closed the cabinet door.

“Yeah, okay,” Scotty agreed, but the tone of his voice indicated he didn’t quite believe her. As he poured the coffee into his travel mug, he started to say something else, but Kat read his eyes and cut him off.

“Veronica!” she shouted up the stairs. “You got ten minutes! I don’t care that it’s summer break, you’ve still got a schedule! Now get down here, I ain’t callin’ you again!”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” the exasperated-sounding girl called back from her bedroom.

“Well, I’m off,” Scotty declared, popping the lid on his mug and heading out of the apartment. “See ya at work.”

Thank God, she thought with relief as she heard the door click shut behind him. Now I can take a couple damn Tylenol without gettin’ the third degree. After popping the pills into her mouth, she surreptitiously slipped the bottle of pain relievers into her bag just as Veronica’s footsteps thundered down the stairs.

***

“Whoa, wide load comin’ through,” Vera remarked cheerfully as Kat stormed into the kitchen almost an hour later. She shot him a glare as he smirked at her, making a show of stepping aside so she’d have room to pass. She didn’t even really want to be in the kitchen in the first place, and Vera wasn’t helping. Just the idea of food was turning her stomach, but she remembered some cranberry juice stashed away in the fridge, and that, for some reason, was calling her name.

“Shut up, Nick,” she snapped, her eyes sparking with anger and her temper rising more than it normally would, thanks to the fact that the damn Tylenol hadn’t kicked in yet. “Just ‘cause I can’t see my feet anymore doesn’t mean I can’t still shove one of ‘em up your Pillsbury Doughboy ass.”

“Whoa,” Vera replied with his best version of an innocent grin as he raised his hands in self defense. “Just messin’ with ya.”

“Yeah, well, go mess with someone your own size,” she retorted as she started to open the fridge, then saw the mischievous twinkle in Vera’s eyes and realized what an easy opening she’d given him.

“Whaddaya think I’m---?” he began, but she silenced him with an icy glare.

“Keep it in, Fatass,” she ordered him, rummaging in the fridge for the juice. “I’m in no mood.” Finally, she spotted the carton, poured some juice into her coffee mug, and downed it in a single gulp.

“Hey,” Vera protested. “I was savin’ that.”

“Growin’ a person here,” she reminded him, with another ferocious glare.

“But---“ he started to say, but Kat cut him off.

“Pregnancy trumps gluttony, buttmunch,” she informed him. He began another protest, but she shot him her patented Death Glare, and the half-formed words tumbled back into his throat.

“Man, I’ll be glad when you have that baby,” Vera griped as he shuffled back out into the squad room.

Kat sighed wearily. “You and me both,” she agreed softly as she poured herself another glass of juice and rubbed her back once more.

***

They hit the ground running shortly thereafter, and the day promised to be a busy one. Jeffries, using his last vacation day, was at home recovering from the jet lag incurred from taking that long-planned trip to Croatia. Although the squad still couldn’t picture Jeffries anywhere near a beach, let alone one in the Balkan Peninsula, they were all happy he’d finally taken the time off.

Meanwhile, Kat was glad that Will’s long-overdue vacation meant that they needed her presence in the office more than ever, giving her a trump card with Scotty. Not surprisingly, he’d urged her to start her maternity leave early, reminding her pointedly that Veronica had arrived four weeks ahead of schedule, but Kat had shut him down with a look and a declaration that it wasn’t going to happen that way, not this time, and besides, she wanted to work as long as possible. The end of pregnancy was bad enough, what with the uncertainty and the discomfort and the waiting, and she’d be damned if she was gonna spend those miserable weeks sitting at home, completely useless, doing nothing except watching bad daytime television while awaiting her miracle. She had absolutely no intention of wasting her precious maternity leave on soap operas when she could be saving those weeks for getting to know her newborn daughter.

After hearing her out, Scotty had given her a look that told her, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn’t a hundred percent behind her decision, but she’d given him a look in response that had told him, in equally certain terms, that he’d better back the hell off and let her make it for herself. And when Jeffries had announced his travel plans, that seemed to silence most of Scotty’s objections, although she still caught him casting worried glances in her direction from time to time, much like he was doing that morning, as he and Lilly sipped coffee and went over notes from an interview they’d done the day before.

Stillman came out of his office just then and handed out assignments, sending Scotty and Vera off on an interview together, and then handing Lilly a file full of information on another witness.

“Take Miller and go see if you can get to the bottom of this,” he instructed Lilly, then cast a curious glance at Kat, who was rubbing her lower back yet again.

“You all right, Miller?” he asked kindly.

“Fine,” she nodded with a wry smile and a glance down at her enlarged belly. “Just…pregnant.”

Stillman grinned. “Well, we’re glad you’re still with us.”

“Me, too,” she agreed with a smile, then popped another couple Tylenol into her mouth before beginning the long, infuriatingly slow process of getting up from her desk and waddling her way out to the parking lot with Lilly.

***

Thanks to a thick layer of clouds, the weather wasn’t as warm as Philadelphia could be in mid-June, and Kat was eternally grateful. It was sweltering enough as it was. Lilly was even thoughtful enough to keep the air conditioner in the car on full-blast, although Kat could tell from her blonde colleague’s repressed shivers that she was doing so at the cost of her own comfort. That silent gesture, that little extra bit of thoughtfulness without making an enormous deal about it, touched Kat deeply and took her mind off the pain in her lower back, at least for a little while. That pain, though…despite all the Tylenol she had in her system, it wasn’t going away. Not at all. In fact, the cramping sensation was getting gradually but undeniably stronger, and now it was accompanied by reasonably frequent, though thankfully painless, tightening sensations in her lower abdomen.

Great, she mused. Braxton-Hicks. Just what I need. She grimaced as another wave of back pain hit, and she felt Rush’s eyes on her, but Lilly didn’t say a thing, and Kat was grateful. Boss had definitely made the right call, sending her out with Rush today. Scotty would be worried sick by now, she knew, even though there was absolutely no reason for him to be. At the most recent appointment, Dr. Bridwell had given no indication that labor was imminent; in fact, she’d said just the opposite.

“Looks like our little princess is gonna be happy to hang out for a while,” she’d remarked as she helped Kat back up to a sitting position after her weekly exam. Scotty, stationed in the chair by the door, had clearly been unconvinced, but Kat had shot him her by-now patented I know what I’m doing, so don’t give me any of your mother hen worrywart crap look.

As another aching surge hit, Kat was eternally grateful that she wasn’t having to answer fourteen thousand “Are you sure you’re okay?” questions from Scotty, and she was also thankful that she wasn’t having to put up with Vera’s smartass remarks. Normally, they didn’t bother her; in fact, she welcomed their verbal sparring, but lately, particularly that morning, she’d just wanted him to shut up and back the hell off, and he hadn’t seemed to get that. She’d even come dangerously close to punching him on at least two occasions, but she’d stifled the urge and instead settled for shooting murderous glares at her obnoxious colleague. It’s just the hormones, she reminded herself, chagrined that, essentially, she was winning Vera’s sexist arguments for him.

So, all things considered, being paired with Lilly today was a relief…and, Kat realized, an unexpected comfort. Rush had never been pregnant, and, as far as Kat knew, had no designs on having children anytime soon, so, as usual, most of their conversations centered around work. Lilly never asked Kat if she was still sleeping well, if she had any swelling, whether they’d picked out a name yet, or any of the other obnoxious inquiries she had to deal with from pretty much anyone else she talked to. It wasn’t that Rush didn’t care; Kat knew, if she ever needed anything, that Lilly could be counted on in a heartbeat…but, unlike the others, Rush just wasn’t one to dwell on the personal lives of her colleagues, even when those personal lives manifested themselves in…rather obvious ways. And after dealing with Scotty’s perpetual worrying and Vera’s constant teasing as to the profitability of smuggling basketballs under one’s clothing, heading out with Lilly was a breath of fresh air, a welcome bit of normalcy. Yes, Boss had definitely made the right call. As Kat relaxed as best she could and reveled in the companionable silence occasionally peppered with theories on the case, she realized that, despite her physical discomfort, it was shaping up to be a pretty good day.

***

After the interview, Kat sank gratefully into the car seat and let out a sigh of relief. Just that short walk from their witness’s house back to the car had taken more effort than she ever wanted to admit, and she was glad to be sitting once more. Not a second too soon, either, she realized, as the viselike grip of another Braxton-Hicks contraction seized her. She couldn’t stifle the slight moan that escaped her lips as her back pain suddenly worsened yet again, and she knew that, despite the fact that she’d managed to play it extremely cool during the interview, she couldn’t hide from the penetrating gaze of Lilly Rush any longer.

“You okay?” Lilly asked lightly, slipping the key into the ignition.

“Fine,” Kat replied, through gritted teeth. “Damn Braxton-Hicks.”

“Ah,” Lilly answered with understanding, as she started the car and pulled away from the curb. She paused slightly, and Kat sighed with relief as the pressure in her abdomen released and Lilly stopped scrutinizing her.

So relieved was she, in fact, that Rush’s next question caught her off-guard.

“So…that one you had three minutes ago…that was Braxton-Hicks, too?” Lilly asked, her voice casual, but laced with that no-nonsense tone she used with suspects.

Oh, shit. Had it really only been three minutes? Surely not. Surely it had been longer than that. No way. No…it couldn’t be… labor. Couldn’t be. Dr. Bridwell would've said something. Besides, labor hadn’t been like this with V. She’d had pain, yes, but not back pain. Not like this. So it couldn’t be labor. Nope. Uh-uh. Not possible. It was just those damned annoying false contractions that---

Her thoughts were abruptly ended when Kat felt a sudden flood of warmth between her legs and realized, with a curious mixture of elation and panic…that her water had just broken.

“Guess not,” she replied weakly. “Thought it was, but…”

Lilly responded with a tender smile. “But what?” she asked.

“But my water just broke all over your car,” Kat grinned sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Lilly assured her with a casual wave of her hand, as if cleaning amniotic fluid out of her upholstery was an everyday occurrence. “I was headed for the hospital anyway.”

Kat’s eyes widened as she realized the truth. How in the hell had she missed that? How had she been so oblivious to the fact that they were heading in the opposite direction from the office? How long had Rush been paying attention that closely? How had---?

“Miller…I’m a detective,” Lilly reminded Kat matter-of-factly, with an arched brow.

Kat’s only response was a tremulous smile as she attempted to absorb the reality of the situation. It was really happening. It all made sense now. She was in labor…back labor, from the looks of it. The baby was coming. She and Scotty were having their baby.  Today.

***

Within moments, Lilly had pulled up in the circle drive outside the hospital and was helping Kat to the entrance. Normally, she would have been fighting off any assistance whatsoever; she wasn’t an invalid, dammit, she was just pregnant…but somehow accepting help from Rush was okay, where it wouldn’t have been with anyone else.

She had no idea how Lilly knew her way around that hospital so well, but, thanks to her colleague’s expert guidance, within moments they were in the Labor and Delivery unit and Kat was in triage, fetal monitor strapped to her belly, and fighting the urge to panic. By the end of the day, she’d have another child. She figured she should have been thrilled, and a part of her was, but…holy mother of God, she wasn’t ready for this. She wasn’t ready to be a mother twice over. She hadn’t raided her mom’s attic for Veronica’s baby clothes yet. The crib was only halfway put together. They still hadn’t decided on a name. And that damn backache was killing her, but she was bound and determined not to ask for pain medication. No way. She’d had her reasons the first time, damn good ones, and her convictions had wavered not at all in the ten years since. Besides, much to her surprise, the moment they placed V on her chest…that made the pain fade faster and more thoroughly than any drug ever could…and she wanted that moment with this baby, too. Wanted to be able to bond with her like she’d bonded with Veronica. So she’d be fine. She’d just go into a trance like she had last time. She’d ignore the pain and the horrible loneliness and just focus on the baby and her body and…

Scotty.

His face shattered through her bubble and reminded her that it wasn’t going to be exactly like last time. Scotty actually wanted to be there. He’d wanted to be there from the beginning. He wanted this baby to have a father. And he’d promised her that she wouldn’t be alone.

“Scotty,” she managed weakly, clutching at Lilly’s hand as she stood beside the bed. “He said---he wanted to…“ she trailed off as another contraction gripped her.

“I’ve already tried to call him,” Lilly replied casually, but Kat caught a faint shadow of concern flitting across her colleague’s porcelain features.

“How many times?” Kat asked, her heart beginning to sink with sudden, almost devastating disappointment. It was irrational, she knew…but she couldn’t stop the feeling any more than she could stop this baby from coming today.

“Just twice,” Lilly answered, but Kat knew Rush was lying. From the look in her eyes, it was more like five. Maybe even six.

“Gimme my phone,” she ordered, and Lilly nodded, then began to search through the plastic bag that now contained Kat’s belongings. Scotty probably thought Lil’s repeated calls were just about the case, Kat reasoned as Lilly located the phone and handed it to her, and maybe he figured they could wait. But he’d answer her call. He’d glance at the caller ID and realize it was her and answer, no matter what he was doing. He’d been worried about her for months, even more so that morning. No way in hell would he not pick up if he knew it was her.

Satisfied, Kat frantically dialed the familiar number…but her call went straight to Scotty’s voicemail. With a sigh and an increasing sense of desperation, she tried the office. No one answered there, either.

Though she tried her damnedest, she couldn’t fight off the fear that began to course through her when she got Scotty’s office voicemail. Hearing his voice, even the professional-sounding version where he merely told whoever was calling that he was away from his desk and would return their call as soon as he could…that made a sudden wave of ineffable loneliness wash over her. He’d said he’d be there, dammit…and he wasn’t.

Get a grip, Miller, her brain reminded her. It’s a workday. He’s out on an interview with Nick. Who knows what’s going on? Those things could take hours…

But as much as she tried to fight it, she realized she was slipping…slipping into that long, dark, lonely tunnel she’d been in with Veronica. Never mind the fact that Scotty wasn’t Jarrod, never mind that he’d been there for her whole pregnancy instead of rotting in a jail cell, never mind that he genuinely cared about her and their daughter. The simple fact remained that she wanted him there. Needed him there, more than she could put into words. And he wasn’t.

“Go…go find him,” Kat implored Lilly, hoping the simple directive would be enough. “He needs…” she trailed off as another contraction hit and she focused for a second on breathing through it.

“He needs to be here,” Lilly finished for her, understanding in her eyes.

Unable to speak, Kat merely nodded.

“Let me try callin' him one more time,” Lilly suggested, but Kat saw the hope fade from Lilly’s expression as soon as it had appeared.

“He’s still not pickin’ up,” she said reluctantly, flipping her phone closed and stashing it back in her pocket.

“Go find him,” Kat repeated, a bit more urgently, grabbing Lilly’s hand at the peak of her contraction, then gradually loosening her grip as the pain faded.

“You’ll be all right here?” Lilly asked, the first bit of sympathy Kat had heard from her all day suddenly apparent in her voice.

“I’ll be fine,” Kat answered, and Lilly studied her for a moment before nodding, squeezing Kat’s hand slightly, then letting go and disappearing from view.

I’ll be fine when he gets here, she amended as a solitary tear slipped from the corner of her eye and traced a slow path down her cheek.

Chapter Thirteen

Distant Stations

That afternoon, Scotty plunged headfirst into his interview with the crazed fan, happy that he had something to think about besides Lilly’s scrutiny of his private life. The entire squad, though they were close, always prided themselves on keeping work and personal separate. Even though those efforts would be forever compromised with him and Kat, they had done the best they could, and, for the most part, it had worked well…

…until that morning, when Lilly had insisted on poking and prodding and prying and putting his personal life under a microscope. Why did it matter to her that he was home on Saturday nights with his daughter instead of out picking up random women at the bar? What difference did it make? In fact, Scotty wondered, why the hell did Lil care about his personal life at all? The last time she’d gotten this involved in anything personal with him was years ago when he was sleeping with Christina, and, well…he couldn’t really blame her for that. Chris was her sister, after all, so, in hindsight, he could understand her objections. But this was a completely different situation. Chris had been a mistake. Kat wasn’t.

Well, okay, he had to admit that wasn’t entirely true. Sleeping with her while they were both drunk and vulnerable, that had been a mistake. A huge one. But, if he were honest with himself, looking at how fulfilled and complete and happy his life was now, the life he’d built with Kat and the girls, was it really a mistake? Could he honestly look at the beautiful daughter they’d made and were raising together as a mistake?

No, Scotty realized with quiet certainty. He couldn’t.

And he was sure that was all Lilly was getting at. Trying to get him to admit that the reason he wasn’t dating anyone, the reason he wasn’t combing the bars searching for happiness…was because he’d already found it at home.

As soon as he reached that conclusion, however, he was forced to smile ruefully at how overly simplistic it was. He knew his partner better than that. He knew Lil wouldn’t be picking at his personal life if the observation were that casual, that shallow. It was obvious he was happy. Everyone could see that. She wouldn’t have been grilling him about it all day if it were that simple. Not her. Not Lilly Rush. So, to his chagrin, Scotty realized that she was getting at something else…something disturbing, horrifying, even…and completely and totally ridiculous.

She thought he had feelings for Kat.

At this realization, Scotty almost laughed aloud. Lil thought he had feelings…for Kat? That was the most absurd, preposterous thing he’d heard in…well…ever, really.

"What?" Lilly asked in response to his amazed chuckle as they got off the elevator following a mid-afternoon excursion, at Scotty’s insistence, for real coffee.

"You think I’m into her, don’t you?" he asked, searching her blue eyes.

Lilly flashed him a brief, unguarded smile, one that said a thousand words, then slipped behind her familiar detective’s mask.

"Interesting that you’d reach that conclusion, Scotty," she remarked lightly, stealing a sidelong glance at him as she sipped her coffee.

Scotty stopped and scrutinized his partner’s face a bit more carefully, chagrined at what he was able to read there. "It’s true, ain’t it?" he demanded. "You think I got feelings for her."

"Never said that," Lilly replied coolly. "Kinda makes me wonder why you’d instantly go there."

Their eyes met for a moment, and Scotty resisted the urge to squirm as he realized that, when faced with that familiar icy blue gaze…he had absolutely no response, so he took a larger-than usual sip of his latte, burned his tongue, and couldn’t hide his pained grimace.

"Y’okay, there, Scotty?" Lilly asked knowingly, with an amused little half-grin, and Scotty decided then and there that his best course of action would be to just smile briefly, nod, and then shut the hell up. The more he talked to Lil about this, the more he protested, the more he insisted that there was absolutely nothing going on with him and Kat, the more convinced Lilly would be that there was, and Scotty had learned, from years of experience with her, that when his partner had her mind made up about something, it was damn near impossible to change it. Trying would be completely pointless. A waste of time and energy. So, he decided that clenching his jaw and glaring at her occasionally was the best way to handle this situation. She read his glare, however, shot him a look that told him she knew exactly what he was doing, and smiled smugly as she took another sip of her coffee, which just made him glare all the more.

The dark cloud that had descended over them in the hallway followed them into the squad room, where Vera was waiting at his desk, his head adorned with that ridiculous Philly Flyers hat that he’d started wearing three years back. Scotty wasn’t sure what Vera’s motivation was for wearing it to the office in the first place, nor had he any idea why in God’s name anyone would spend good money on a black ballcap with plush yellow wings, but it had been the day of a big game, the Flyers had won, and Vera had given full credit to the hat. Ever since then, he insisted on wearing it to the office on the days of important games, and Scotty had to give him props. Since the advent of his winged headgear, the Flyers had won not one, but two Stanley Cups, and Vera had spent the last three hockey seasons strutting around the office like a prize rooster.

Lilly looked up from her coffee, saw the hat, and issued a small chuckle. She then glanced at Scotty, and he could tell from her expression that she was hoping the humor of the hat would lighten the mood…but he wasn’t letting her off that easy. Nothin’s goin’ on, dammit, he insisted silently as he shot her yet another brief glare, and she arched a brow, smiled secretively, and turned her attention back to her files.

"Got one more name on that list to round up," Lilly informed them, consulting a page in her notebook. "Guy looks a little…unstable."

"Everyone in this case is unstable," Vera replied, leaning back in his chair and lacing his hands behind his head. "Kinda makes me wonder how they managed to get it together enough to pull off a murder."

"Yeah, well…never underestimate the power of the delusional, right?" Scotty joked, but the underlying irritation in his voice escaped no one, nor did the pointed glance in Lilly’s direction. She just smiled, while Vera’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he looked quizzically from one to the other.

Great, Scotty thought, with an inward roll of his eyes. More questions. He considered his options for a moment, wishing briefly that he could send Lilly and Vera out together to bring in the suspect so he could be left in the office in peace, but no dice. This shining example of humanity, to Scotty’s chagrin, only spoke Spanish, so that meant his presence was required. After taking a grateful sip of his now-cooler latte and contemplating the various scenarios for a few moments, he decided that Vera would be infinitely preferable to Lilly. If Nick got obnoxious, he could always be distracted by pre-game Flyers chatter on the radio. No such luck with Lil.

Decision made, Scotty snatched the file from his partner’s hand before she could even blink. "C’mon, Nicky," he urged, tapping the file on his co-worker’s desk on his way to the door. "Get your winged ass in the car."

***

"So…" Vera began conspiratorially as Scotty wasted no time in starting the car and backing out of the parking space. "What’s goin’ on with you and Rush?"

Scotty sighed and rather aggressively shifted the car into Drive. He’d known the questions were coming, but he decided he could deal with talking about Lilly…as long as the conversation didn’t stray too far from that topic.

"Nothin’," he muttered in reply, focusing all his attention on the menial task of pulling out into traffic.

"Kinda looks like you two are fightin’ about somethin’," Vera pressed, his tone casual, but his intentions anything but.

"Just the case," Scotty lied, knowing the instant the words were out of his mouth that he was dead in the water.

Sure enough, Vera chuckled in disbelief and shot Scotty an amused glance. "Please. The case? That’s the best you could come up with?" He shook his head and laughed again. "This case is open and shut, man. Finito. Soon as we get this lunatic off the streets, it’s lights out, case closed, put the boxes back on the shelf. What the hell would you and Lil have to argue about with this job?"

"You’re right. It’s pointless," Scotty shrugged, then switched on their favorite sports talk station. To his surprise, and total irritation, however, Vera reached out and immediately silenced the radio.

"Thought you’d be wantin’ to hear about the game," Scotty remarked, as casually as he could. "Playin’ the Devils tonight, y’know."

"Yeah, but I got my hat. The Devils are toast," Vera retorted with a confident grin and a tip of his cap. "So…what part of ‘the case’, exactly, are you two fightin’ about?"

Scotty shrugged. "So maybe it ain’t this case," he replied nonchalantly. "Maybe it’s a different one."

"Yeah," Vera chortled gleefully. "The case of what the hell’s goin’ on with you and Miller."

"Dammit," Scotty exploded. "Why the hell is everyone harpin’ on that today?"

Vera shrugged and grinned. "This job’s boring, man. Open and shut. Detectives gotta have some mystery to figure out. Besides," he added conspiratorially, with a sly look, "Miller’s been givin’ you the eyes."

Scotty turned his head toward Vera so fast he was surprised he didn’t hurt himself. "She has?" he blurted out incredulously.

Vera burst out laughing. "Hell if I know," he managed, "but it sure got your attention."

Scotty shot Vera a lethal glare, then switched the radio back on. "You might not care about your precious Flyers," he griped, "but maybe some of us do."

"I’ll believe that when you get yourself your own Winged Headgear of Win and Awesome," Vera replied.

"Whatever," Scotty grumbled, then turned up the volume and lapsed into silence.

***

Finally, at long last, the ridiculous day was over and Scotty was back home in a quiet living room, reading a story to his daughter. Kat and Veronica were at ballet class, a tradition that had started long before Scotty was in the picture. That time had always been strictly reserved for mother and daughter to be together, and he wasn’t about to touch it with a ten-foot pole. Besides, he’d come to eagerly anticipate the quiet Friday nights alone with his little princesa, and this night was no exception. They’d watched a Dora video, played with her toys on the floor for a while, and then, when he sensed her getting sleepy, he’d pulled out her favorite book, read it to her twice, then, upon her insistence, acquiesced, with exaggerated, joking reluctance, to a third reading. By the end, she was sound asleep, and, although Scotty knew he should take her up to bed, having her snuggled in his arms felt so damn good that he just couldn’t bear to move, so he reclined on the couch and let her sleep on his shoulder, stroking her curls and basking in the quiet contentment of fatherhood.

Lilly was wrong, he concluded as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of his daughter’s head. Dead wrong. There was nothing going on with Kat. Just because he’d rather stay home on a Friday night with his little girl than do just about anything else in the world didn’t mean he had feelings for her mother. They were friends. Just friends. That was it. Admittedly, they had a bond few friends did, but that’s all they were, dammit. Just friends.

Scotty tried hard to keep his mind firmly in the present, but a day of reminiscing had rocketed it to the past, and so, with a weary, defeated sigh, he gave in to the memories, letting his mind wander back to that warm June day…the day that had changed his life forever.

June 17, 2009

It was…a day. Just a normal day. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. Oh, sure, Kat had looked like she was in some pain that morning, but she’d insisted that it was nothing, just standard third-trimester aches and pains, and Scotty had let it go. After months of dealing with a pregnant Miller, he knew better than to argue with her, especially about that. Even so, he was glad he’d surreptitiously packed a bag for her to take to the hospital and stuck it in his car a few days before…just in case. As he made the coffee, he caught her unconsciously rubbing her lower back when she didn’t think he was looking and wondered if she was going into labor, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it occurred to him. She’d done this before. If she was in labor, she’d know, and she’d tell him. She knew he wanted to be there for the birth, and she’d made it clear that she wanted him there. So if Kat said it was just back pain, then back pain was all it was.

Once he got to work, Scotty forgot about their morning almost entirely. He and Vera went out together on an interview, one that was supposed to be with just a witness, but the second they walked in the door, their cops’ intution instantly told them that Jack Peyton wasn’t going to be just an ordinary witness. Sure enough, Peyton just so happened to have a gun that matched the description of the murder weapon, one for which he conveniently did not have a permit, so he was immediately clapped in handcuffs and escorted back to Headquarters for questioning.

Back at the office, he and Vera threw their suspect in the box and immediately began an intense interrogation. They were making progress, Peyton was opening up to them, and Scotty felt he’d really established a rapport with him. Any minute now, he’d get the break he needed. Peyton would crack and spill everything, and another scumbag would be taken off the streets for good.

So invested was he in the interview that Scotty didn’t notice how many hours had passed. He didn’t even hear the knock at the door at first. He had no idea anything was going on until a shaft of fluorescent light spilled across the table, and he glanced up to see Lilly standing in the doorway.

"Detective Valens," she said professionally, with a pointed arch of her brow.

Scotty ignored her, returning his attention, and his fierce glare, to their suspect. "Alibi didn’t hold water, Jack," he informed Peyton, looking deep into his eyes. "So I’ll ask again. Where were you that night?"

"Scotty," Lilly repeated, a bit louder.

"What?" he demanded roughly.

"I need to see you for a minute," she replied, her voice cool and professional.

Scotty sighed and rolled his eyes, smacking the table with both hands on his way toward the door. He was making progress, dammit. Real progress. What the hell did Lil want? Why was she interrupting him?

Storming out of the interview room into the office, he found himself face to face with Lilly and, to his surprise, Stillman. Oh, great. He was getting called on the carpet for something again. Quickly, he replayed the last few moments in his head, wondering what he’d done this time, wondering how the hell they could possibly think he’d been too rough with the suspect. He’d barely even touched the guy. Vera could back him up.

But his anger suddenly started to fade when he saw the look in his boss’s steely eyes. It wasn’t the look he usually gave Scotty when he was about to dish out a dose of his lethally quiet wrath. Instead, Scotty realized with alarm, it was a look that said that the case was about to take a back seat to real life. The last time he’d seen that look was the day the boss took him out to the river to tell him about Elisa…but, as a suddenly alarmed Scotty searched the lieutenant’s expression, he realized that it wasn’t exactly the same. It didn’t seem like this was bad news, necessarily…just important news.

"What the hell’s goin’ on?" he asked, looking frantically from Lilly to Stillman.

Lilly smiled, and that made Scotty even more confused than he already was.

"Boss?" he pressed, looking back and forth between the two. "Lil?"

"You need to get to the hospital," Stillman informed him with a slight smile.

"Why?" he demanded, his eyes still flitting from his boss to his partner and back again. "Who’s---?"

"I just took Miller there," Lilly interrupted softly, her smile suddenly wide and dazzling. "You’re gonna be a dad today, Scotty."

As the truth of her words began to sink in, Scotty froze, all the color draining from his face, his mouth went dry, and he could have sworn his heart stopped beating. Already? Today? He was gonna be a father today? Oh, sure, he’d been looking forward to it, more than he’d looked forward to just about anything in his life…but, he realized, the idea of being a dad was very, very different when it was suddenly looming as a reality. He…he had no idea what he was doing. None. Didn’t know a damn thing about fatherhood; hell, he’d barely even changed a diaper. The only thing he knew about babies was what they’d learned in childbirth class, and all that knowledge was suddenly deserting him, flitting out the windows of his mind and disappearing into the sky before he could even register that it was gone. He wasn’t ready for this. They weren’t ready for this. No way. He didn’t even know how to---

Lilly placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Scotty?" she asked, a touch of amusement coloring her voice. "You in there?"

Scotty stared into her eyes, unable to speak, unable to breathe. He wasn’t even sure he could think. He was simply stunned…even more stunned than he’d been the day Kat told him about the baby. Somehow, despite the mood swings and cravings and doctor visits, despite her ever-enlarging belly and the powerful kicks from within it and the crib that had taken up residence in her bedroom, it had never seemed truly real…but now, all of a sudden, it was.

Holy crap.

He was about to become a father.

"Scotty," Lilly said sharply, giving his arm a slight shake, and he shook himself out of his shocked reverie to meet her eyes once more.

"Miller sent me back here to find you," Lilly informed him. "She needs you."

Kat needed him. She was having a baby, his baby, their baby, today…and she needed him. She needed him.

That realization penetrated the whirling chaos of his thoughts, and Scotty suddenly sprang into action, going from frozen to the spot to trying to run in six directions at once.

The bag. He’d packed a bag. Where the hell was the bag?

Right. The car.

The car...the car...where the hell was the car? Screw the car, where the hell were the goddamn keys?

At Scotty’s sudden panic, Stillman glanced at Lilly and chuckled softly. "Maybe you oughta drive him," he suggested, his wise gray eyes twinkling with amusement.

***

Scotty had absolutely no memory of the drive to the hospital. He didn’t recall having any conversation with Lilly about anything, but for all he knew, they could have gotten into a long, involved discussion about the case, Lilly’s blossoming friendship with her long-lost father, the Phillies’ sixteen-game winning streak, or any of a number of other things. He had no idea. He moved in a daze, yet somehow he remained cognizant enough to read the signs in the hospital hallways and navigate his way to Labor and Delivery, where he got off the elevator, raced down the hall…and froze outside the unit’s heavy wooden doors, trying to even out his breathing and restore some semblance of calm.

He was here. This was it. He was becoming a father…

…and he had no freakin’ idea what he was doing. None at all. No idea what to do, and not a clue what to expect from Kat when he entered her room. He half expected her to be in a blind rage, having grabbed a scalpel and threatening anything that moved, particularly anything male. For a second, he was frozen in absolute terror. Forget being a father, he realized he had no idea how to be a labor companion. Sure, they’d taken those classes, and yeah, she’d done this before, but he suddenly found all they’d learned in class deserting him in favor of a fear like he’d never known. What if he screwed this up? What if he said something…did something…that hurt Kat, or the baby? He had no clue what the hell he was doing, and for a second, he was tempted to turn around and just run.

For the second time that afternoon, Lilly’s voice burst through the maelstrom of his panic. Kat herself had told him she needed him. She’d needed him all through her pregnancy, and this was the time she needed him most. Hell, he remembered her admitting how badly she’d wanted Jarrod during Veronica’s birth, how she told him that even though she hated the bastard, she’d wanted him there anyway…and Scotty had promised. He’d promised. He promised her he’d be there, start to finish…and where the hell was he now, while she was alone and in pain and giving birth to their child?

He was still standing outside the doors of Labor and Delivery, staring at the warm, polished wood…being the biggest chickenshit he’d ever been in his life.

The hell you doin’, Valens? his brain demanded roughly. She’s in there, havin’ your baby, right the hell now, and you’re standin’ out here in the hallway? She’s alone. You promised her she wouldn’t be. Maybe you can’t take the pain away from her, but you go through those doors, she ain’t alone anymore, and that’s what she was scared of in the first place. So get your ass in there. Now.

Decision made and confidence somewhat restored, Scotty finally summoned the courage to open those heavy wooden doors.

***

After asking at the desk and being directed to Kat’s room, Scotty took a deep breath and pushed open the door, completely unsure what to expect. For all he knew, she’d be furious with him for not being there from start to finish, like he’d promised. He’d assured her that she wouldn’t be alone, not like she had been the first time, and yet, as he walked in, he realized that, goddammit, she was alone anyway. No nurses, no doctors, no doula…just Kat. In the bed. Alone.

She was still…almost deathly quiet, her eyes closed, and for a second, he panicked, but then she issued a low moan, and he was placated, for the moment, anyway.

He was completely unprepared for what happened next.

Her moan grew louder as the contraction intensified, and Kat tried to breathe through it, as they’d practiced together. He stood in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt, not wanting to break her concentration, and so he was caught completely off-guard when her slow, controlled breathing suddenly turned into a hiccupping sob and she buried her face in her hands.

"Scotty," she managed. "Oh, God, Scotty, where the hell are you?"

Pain and guilt lancing his soul, he crossed the room in about a step. "I’m right here," he told her quietly. He wasn’t sure whether she’d let him touch her, so, for the moment, he just lingered by her bed.

"I can’t do this," she gasped, both physical and emotional pain clearly evident in her voice. "I can’t. I can’t go through this without you. Dammit, Scotty, please, please just show up."

Scotty was dumbfounded. Did she really not know he was there? He decided to risk touching her. The worst she could do was hit him or something, and he figured, after what he’d put her through, he deserved at least that much. Gently, he grasped her wrists and lowered them from her face, forcing her tear-filled eyes to meet his.

"Kat," he said softly, but firmly.

"Scotty," she breathed in amazement, her eyes wide with grateful disbelief. "You’re here."

"Damn right I’m here," he replied with a grin and a lightness he didn’t quite feel. "Wouldn’t miss this for the world."

He braced himself then for the torrent of abuse he was sure she’d heap on him, for the half-shrieked accusatory questions demanding to know where the hell he’d been and why it had taken him so long to show up, and he was also half-prepared for her to at least threaten his manhood, if not actively attack it…

…but what he wasn’t prepared for was for her to collapse against his midsection, weeping openly.

"Oh, thank God," she managed, clinging to him as though he were a life preserver, the relief and gratitude pouring from her voice like ocean waves. Scotty wrapped his arms around her, whispering words of comfort into her hair as she sobbed against him. "I can’t do this alone," she choked.

"Hey, you don’t have to," Scotty replied firmly, holding her closer. "You know that. I’m here, and I ain’t goin’ nowhere. You’re not alone."

He felt her body tense as another contraction seized her, and instinctively, as though guided by an unseen force, he dragged his hands down her back and held her ferociously close, massaging firmly. She issued a soft groan, but didn’t fight him, and it felt like the right thing to do, so he kept at it until he felt the muscles beneath his hands relax. Only then did he let go.

Kat raised her head from his shoulder then, and he was surprised, and greatly relieved, to see a smile crossing her face.

"Thank you," she breathed, her face brightening somewhat as she swiped away the remnants of her tears. "Oh, Scotty, thank you." At his quizzical look, she hastily explained. "I’ve been havin’ back labor…that’s the only thing that works for it."

"What is?" Scotty asked blankly.

"You pressin’ hard and rubbin’ like that," she replied. "It wasn’t too bad at first, but then it---" She shook her head slightly as her face crumpled again, and Scotty sat down on the bed next to her and pulled her close once more. He’d be damned if Kat Miller shed even one more tear on his watch.

"Shhhh," he insisted. "That was then. It’s over now. I’m here. You’re not alone."

Kat looked up at him, her soulful dark eyes wide and trusting. "I’m gonna need you to tell me that," she said softly. "When the next one comes…get behind me, press on my back like it’s a brick wall…and tell me I’m not alone."

"You can do this," he reminded her, as he slid down from his perch, loosened his tie, rolled up his sleeves, and climbed into bed behind her. She sighed, a delicious sigh of deep contentment, as she settled back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"We can do this," she corrected, a bit of her characteristic confidence poking through the pain and the revenant loneliness.

Scotty quirked a brow, and she met his eyes unflinchingly. "You got work to do, too, buddy," she informed him, with just a trace of a grin, and that bolstered Scotty like nothing he could have possibly imagined. She was still in there. Kat Miller was there, she was fine…and she was having his baby.

"Then let’s do it," he replied with a broad smile as he feathered a kiss across her cheek. "Let’s have this baby."

Chapter Fourteen

This Magic Moment

Scotty was abruptly jerked back to reality when he heard the front door creaking open and a pair of exuberant footsteps crossing the threshold.

"Hi, Scotty, bye, Scotty," a tutu-clad blur that could only be Veronica said as she whizzed past and thundered loudly up the stairs, her arrival there punctuated by the closing of her bedroom door.

"Thought ballet was supposed to make you graceful," Scotty remarked, grinning in Kat’s direction as she tossed her keys and her purse on the kitchen table.

"Shoulda heard her before all those lessons," Kat retorted. "Like a whole herd of wildebeest."

Scotty chuckled. If this was the result of six years of ballet, he wasn’t sure he wanted to even imagine what she must have been like before.

"So what’s the rush?" he asked, nodding toward the stairs.

Kat rolled her eyes as she shrugged out of her coat. "She had to get home to…get this…text a girl from dance class."

"Text someone she just saw twenty minutes ago?" Scotty asked incredulously. "What’s the matter with, I dunno, talkin’ to ‘em when you see ‘em?"

"Apparently that’s old-school," Kat replied as she kicked off her shoes, then came into the living room in full view of Scotty and their daughter. She stared for a moment, then chuckled softly.

"What?" Scotty asked, somewhat defensively.

"She’s got a bed, y’know," Kat replied with a grin.

"Yeah, I know," Scotty agreed, glancing lovingly at his daughter. "It’s just…she…well, I didn’t…" he trailed off with a sheepish grin.

"You’re the biggest softie I know, Valens," she said affectionately, then lifted the sleeping toddler off her father’s chest and kissed her cheek.

"Say good night, Daddy," she instructed softly, and Scotty gently squeezed his daughter’s hand.

"Buenas noches, princesa," he murmured, then watched Kat slowly climb the stairs, their offspring in tow.

When they were out of sight, he hoisted himself up off the couch and headed for the kitchen to grab the Ben & Jerry’s. It had become a tradition on Friday nights, after the girls went to bed, for Kat and Scotty to dig into a pint of ice cream and snark at bad movies on TV. More often than not, it ended with them both in stitches, the gales of laughter being exactly what they needed after a long week at work…but on this night, Scotty wasn’t in the mood for some lame-ass TV movie. Instead, he found himself gravitating toward the photo albums they kept on a shelf by the fireplace.

Not surprisingly, the one he grabbed was the one that contained the first pictures of their daughter. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember who had taken them. He was pretty sure he hadn’t, since anytime he tried to photograph anything, the subjects found themselves missing heads or other key appendages, but he couldn’t think who else it might have been. Dismissing the unanswered question as quickly as it had come, Scotty started to flip through the slick plastic pages one by one, basking in the glow of the memories of that warm, cloudy June day.

"Figured you might be lookin’ at that," he heard a familiar voice say behind him after a few minutes, and he glanced up to see Kat, now clad in a simple T-shirt and a pair of stretch pants, her dark eyes twinkling with amusement. Grinning self-consciously, he scooted over on the couch to make room for her, and she grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over their laps.

"Kinda been livin’ in the past today, I guess," Scotty admitted, and Kat shot him a grin as she settled down on the couch next to him and grabbed the ice cream from his hand.

"You and me both," she replied wistfully, lifting the lid from the ice cream container and digging in while Scotty flipped back to the beginning of the album.

June 17, 2009

Scotty had no idea how long they were in that delivery room. It could have been a few minutes, a few hours, hell, maybe even a week, and he wouldn’t have noticed, or cared. The moment he climbed into that bed behind Kat, time ceased to have any meaning at all.

Doctors and nurses drifted in and out of the room from time to time, checking monitors and fluids and all kinds of things, but Scotty didn’t pay any attention to them, either. The sole target of his focus was the woman who leaned wearily against his chest during those brief respites between contractions, grateful for the simplest things…a few ice chips spooned into her mouth, a cool washcloth on her forehead, the gentle stroking of his fingertips across her cheek. For someone who’d raged at him on more than one occasion the past few months not to touch her, she sure didn’t seem to mind it now, and a fulfillment like Scotty had never known flooded his heart at the fact that he was able to do something to make her feel better.

Kat had definitely calmed down since he arrived, he noticed with a touch of contented pride. After her brief outburst, she’d taken full control, and he could sense her loneliness and fear and whatever else she was feeling receding bit by bit every time he reassured her that she wasn’t alone. But, even though his massages during contractions helped some, he could tell she was still in a lot of physical pain. Scotty would have done anything to alleviate that, anything at all, but, to his chagrin, that decision had already been made beforehand.

They’d been drafting the birth plan a few weeks before, bantering jovially while they listed their preferences, but when it came to the issue of painkillers, Kat stopped, mid-laugh, and met his eyes with a lethally certain gaze.

"No drugs," she’d insisted. "I don’t care what I say, what I do, or how much I beg. Don’t let ‘em give ‘em to me."

Scotty had blinked in surprise at her vehemence, because, quite frankly, it was beyond him. He had no firsthand knowledge of what giving birth was like, of course, but from the stories his cousins and sister-in-law had told him, an epidural was God’s gift to women, and he had no earthly idea what would possess someone to go through labor without one.

"Kat," he’d protested, against his better judgment. "I know you’ve done this before…but if they got somethin’ to take the pain away, I don’t get why you’d---"

"Scotty," she’d snapped, with flashing eyes. "I mean it. No."

His heart filling with helpless dread at what she was about to put herself through, he’d wanted to protest, wanted to fight it with everything he had, but the expression in her eyes was like nothing he’d ever seen before, and he was simply too stunned to argue. Instead, he’d shrugged, let her include that as part of the birth plan, and resorted to fervent prayers over the interim weeks that she wouldn’t actually, literally beg for the drugs…because he had no freakin’ idea how in the world he’d be able to deny her. Oh, she’d reassured him that the pain hadn’t been that bad with Veronica…but she hadn’t had back labor with Veronica, and those reassurances rang hollow now, as she grimaced her way through another contraction. Even though she was trying valiantly to hide it, Scotty had never seen her in so much pain. The contractions were stronger now, hard and fast and close together, with little respite in between, and Scotty tried as best he could, but even his careful ministrations didn’t seem to do much for her, and he suddenly felt desperate for something, anything more that could help her.

In a case of brilliant timing, the nurse had chosen that moment to come in to check Kat’s progress. "Would she like something for the pain?" she asked quietly, with a glance in their direction as she made a note in the chart.

Scotty looked down at Kat, his eyes wordlessly begging her for permission. More than anything, he wanted to say yes. More than anything in the world. This was his fault, after all. She was in agony, and it was his fault. But she’d been more insistent about that than about anything he’d ever seen from her, and as he looked down at her, she glanced up at him, the answer written unequivocally in the infinite depths of her dark eyes. Oh, she was in a lot of pain, he could see it there plain as day…but as he opened his mouth to tell the nurse to bring whatever they had, he saw, beneath the pain, beneath any hint of a fleeting, momentary desire for something to take the edge off, that iron-clad determination, and his heart began to sink. She didn’t even have to say anything, but she did anyway, just to be sure.

"Scotty," she whispered. "I said no."

After searching her eyes for another moment, he sighed with defeat and steeled himself for what was to come. If she was refusing the relief that an epidural would offer, if she was tough enough to do that, Scotty realized, then surely he was tough enough to stay behind her and watch her suffer. That was his penance, he figured. His penance for being drunk and stupid and taking advantage of his friend. As another powerful contraction gripped her, she dug her fingers into his forearms so hard he could feel the bruises forming already, but he welcomed it. If that helped her get through this, he’d take absolutely anything she cared to dish out.

Hating himself for what he was about to do, yet knowing that it was the right thing, he shook his head no, and the nurse nodded and departed. He could’ve sworn Kat seemed relieved when the door closed behind her, but then another contraction hit, and Scotty sprang into action. He had work to do.

Over however many hours they’d been in that room, Scotty and Kat had developed a rhythm together. He’d keep his arms around her until she had a contraction, and then she’d lean forward and he’d bring his fists around to the small of her back and press against it, far too hard, he thought, but it was only when he was pressing with every ounce of his strength that it brought her any relief, so he kept at it. His arms had started to quiver with exertion after a while, and he knew they’d be sore for days to come, but he didn’t care. However miserable he was, she had to be ten times worse…and this was helping her. Gradually, though, he became so focused on her that he didn’t even notice the fatigue anymore. He didn’t notice or care about anything except Kat and their daughter and bringing her safely into the world.

After one particularly long, painful contraction, an exhausted Kat collapsed back against him. "I can’t do this anymore," she gasped helplessly. "That’s it. That’s all I got left. I can’t do this."

Scotty had no idea what to say to that, so he just held her close and wiped her sweat-glazed forehead with the cold washcloth again.

"Breathe, Kat. Just breathe," he soothed. "It’s almost over. You know that." Just then, a memory from their birthing classes flashed back to him, and he was suddenly elated. "Hey, remember what we learned? Remember what they said? When you get here, when you think you can’t do it anymore…that’s when it’s almost time."

Kat nodded, but he could tell from the weariness and pain etched on her face as she glanced back at him that she still didn’t believe him.

"Hey," he reminded her, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb and looking deep into her eyes. "You’re not alone. You know that. I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere."

She smiled, a weak, tremulous smile, but a genuine smile nonetheless, and then she squeezed his hand. It was an affectionate squeeze, one that spoke of love and friendship rather than pain, and that combined with her heart-meltingly beautiful smile…good Lord, he’d have done anything for that smile.

The doctor came in just then, checked Kat, and, with just a touch of giddiness in her voice, announced that it was time. Utterly amazed, Scotty watched as a strength he didn’t know Kat had suddenly took control, as though a switch had been flipped. The exhausted woman who’d claimed she couldn’t go on was gone, replaced by a steady, calm, determined woman possessed by a power he’d never seen before. If she was in pain, he had no way of knowing. She was silent, almost eerily so, her carefully controlled breathing the only sound in the room. He’d expected a room full of cheerleader-like nurses urging her to push, but there was none of that. Kat was in charge. Her body was completely in control. She had almost totally disappeared into herself, connecting on some deep, primal level with the baby. All her energy was devoted to guiding that little girl into the world, and she had no use for the enraged screaming or frustrated shrieking Scotty had been expecting… and all he could do was watch in total awe, hold her close, and marvel at the miracle he was witnessing.

After a few minutes, Dr. Bridwell smiled broadly. "Kat," she said softly, "reach down."

Scotty felt tears beginning to prick his eyes as Kat snapped out of her trance long enough to turn back and beam up at him, then was completely startled as she grabbed his hand from where it had been wrapped around her chest and brought it down with hers.

"We’re doin’ this together," she declared breathlessly, and she gently guided his hand to something small, round, and slimy, their fingers intertwining as they caressed it.

"That’s her head, Scotty," Kat announced, the joy and wonder of the moment giving her voice a beautiful richness he’d never heard, and Scotty could scarcely believe it. That was her head. His daughter’s head. After all the months of waiting, he was finally touching his daughter.

Their daughter.

"Isn’t that amazing?" Kat asked in a reverent whisper.

For a long moment, Scotty couldn’t speak. "Yeah," he finally managed thickly, as his fingers found hers, wrapped their way around them, and gave them a brief squeeze.

"We’re almost there," Dr. Bridwell said quietly. "Scotty, do you wanna come play catch?"

Scotty froze. That had been one of the key components of the birth plan. He’d been looking forward to the opportunity to actually deliver his child, to bring his daughter into the world, and he started to extricate himself from behind Kat, but he suddenly stopped. The baby didn’t really need him, he realized. She was in excellent hands. But, despite how relaxed Kat was, how euphoric she’d suddenly become, she still clung to his arm like it was a life preserver. As he started to move, he heard the barest of whimpers escape her, and he glanced down at her to find her large, soulful eyes filled with joy and pain and countless other things he couldn’t even describe… and with that, the decision was made.

"Nah," he replied with a smile. "I’m good right here."

Dr. Bridwell grinned proudly, then turned her attention back to Kat and the baby, and it wasn’t long at all before the only sound Kat made split the air, a kind of roar, not one of pain, but of triumph…and blending seamlessly on the heels of that, most glorious sound Scotty had ever heard: the weak, but healthy cry of a little girl…his little girl…and ocean waves of joy and love and pride and a myriad of other things he found impossible to name washed through his body as Kat collapsed back against him, caught her breath, and squeezed his hand.

After a few seconds, Dr. Bridwell placed the baby on Kat’s chest and the nurses draped a warm blanket over them both. Their daughter was wet and red and wrinkled and covered in goo…but she was the most beautiful thing Scotty had ever seen in his whole life.

"Hey, little one," Kat cooed as she stroked the baby’s cheek, her voice wavering slightly as happy tears spilled over, the pain and toil and exhaustion of the last few hours fading to nothingness. "I know you."

Scotty was dumbfounded. He knew he should be saying something, doing something, but all he could do was stare at his daughter. That tiny, wet, helpless little creature nuzzling her head under her mother’s chin and blinking in confusion at her strange new surroundings …that was his. His flesh and blood…his and Kat’s. They’d made her. Together. It was simply miraculous, and for a while, all he could do was stare.

Finally, Kat turned around, her face shining with sweat and streaked with tears, yet glowing with an ecstatic, loving contentment, the likes of which he’d never seen from anyone.

"You still in there, Scotty?" she asked lightly.

"Yeah," Scotty managed. "It’s just…" he trailed off, at a complete and total loss for words.

"Wanna say hi to your daughter?" she prompted, and Scotty beamed, her gentle query springing him into action, and he gently placed his hand on the baby’s back. She was so small that his hand almost covered the whole surface of her, he noticed, and at that, he felt a sudden surge of protectiveness welling up in his heart.

"Hey, you," he whispered, fighting tears once more. "It’s me. I’m your daddy." It sounded indescribably lame to his ears, and he almost winced, but then the little girl glanced up at him, and their eyes met for the first time. For a while, father and daughter simply stared at one another, and Scotty was stunned. He’d already thought he’d been amazed more by her birth than he could possibly be by anything else for the rest of his life, but as that tiny pair of dark brown eyes looked up at him with an expression that seamlessly mingled curiosity and familiarity, he could have sworn his heart stopped beating. He didn’t even dare to breathe, lest he disturb the moment. They were bonding…they were connecting. Even though she couldn’t understand a word he said, and even though she couldn’t say anything in response…somehow, some way, their souls were knit together forever. Hey…I know you, her gaze seemed to say.

A broad smile crossed his face as the tears blurred his vision. He thought he knew what love at first sight felt like…but this blew it out of the water.

"She’s got your eyes, Scotty," Kat murmured affectionately. "Spittin’ image."

He couldn’t say a word. All he could do was caress his daughter’s back with one hand and squeeze her mother’s shoulders with the other, all the while trying to keep from crying all over them both.

***

The next few hours passed in a blur. After a few moments of bonding, the nurses took the little girl away for the requisite tests while Scotty whipped out his phone and called everyone he could think of and Kat took a much-needed nap. Then, after the doctors and nurses returned the now-sleeping infant, checked Kat once more, and then left, visitors started to arrive. A beaming Dina Miller was the first to arrive, with Veronica in tow; Dina called the baby a precious little cupcake, while Veronica thought she looked more like E. T. A few minutes after they departed, Scotty’s mother drifted in with an enormous teddy bear and tearfully proclaimed the baby a little princesa, and the moment she left, Vera and and a refreshed-looking Jeffries arrived with hearty congratulations and an offer to go grab them anything they wanted to eat, which a delighted Kat met with a request for a cheese steak from Geno’s.

"Covered in Cheez Whiz, right, Miller?" Vera joked.

"Hell, no," she retorted, her eyes sparking like always. "You bring me that thing back with Cheez Whiz, I’m shovin’ it up your ass."

"Hey, you’re supposed to be restin’," he shot back. "And what happened to that new-mom glow?"

"Just bring me my damn cheese steak," she ordered, "or the glow you’ll see won’t have anything to do with me bein’ a new mom."

Vera’s brow furrowed in confusion. "What the hell is she she talkin’ about?" he muttered quietly to his partner, who was holding the baby and beaming proudly.

"Just go get the damn sandwich, Nick," he instructed, his eyes still locked on the infant in his arms.

As a grumbling Vera departed, Lilly and Stillman came in bearing a huge bouquet of flowers. Stillman gave Scotty a proud hug, and Jeffries reluctantly handed the baby to Lilly. Joy shining from her blue eyes, she held the little girl and talked quietly with Kat for a few moments, then passed the baby to Stillman and turned to Scotty. She grinned at him for a moment, then pulled him into a tender embrace.

"She’s beautiful, Scotty," Lilly whispered. "And Jack Peyton confessed a couple hours ago."

"Lil," Scotty said huskily, pulling away from his partner, the woman who meant the world to him…and he suddenly realized that he had absolutely no idea what to say to her, no clue how to thank her for everything she’d done for him, for Kat, for their daughter that day.

"Thanks," he finally said with a grin, the single syllable communicating more to her than the most eloquent speech he ever could’ve given.

Lilly beamed, the twinkle in her eyes reminding him of a day so long ago when the tables had been turned, and for a far less joyous reason. "Just don’t make me do it again," she teased.

***

Visiting hours soon ended, and Kat and Scotty devoured their cheese steaks and then prepared to settle in for the night with their new daughter, who’d drifted off after nursing and now slept peacefully in her mother’s arms, wrapped up in blankets so tightly Scotty that thought, in his dazed, exhausted, euphoric state, that she resembled a large, pink burrito.

"Oh, God, Scotty," Kat realized suddenly, glancing at him in wide-eyed amazement, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You haven’t even gotten to hold her yet."

Scotty frowned. Surely not. Surely that couldn’t be possible…but as he thought back over the last few hours, he realized that, holy crap, it was true.

"You’re right," he said in awe. How the hell had that happened?

Before he could even blink, Kat was handing him the tiny bundle, and he cradled her in his arms, that sense of protectiveness even stronger now as he was overwhelmed by how delicate and fragile she seemed.

"I’m kinda afraid I’m gonna break her," he admitted sheepishly as he looked up at Kat, who rewarded him with a tender smile.

"Well, if she didn’t break while she was comin’ outta me, no way in hell can you do any damage," she retorted, her eyes sparkling with amusement, and Scotty grinned in reply, then turned his attention back to the baby. One of her small, chubby arms had worked itself free from the blankets, and he caressed the tiny, perfectly-formed fingers, astonished at how, even in her sleep, she wrapped them around his index finger and gripped it tightly. He caressed the back of her small hand with his thumb, fighting tears of love and joy once more.

Just then, the nurse came in with the birth certificate, and Scotty could hear, at the very edge of his awareness, the low murmurings as the nurse and Kat discussed length and weight and all the other vital statistics. He perked up, though, when the nurse asked her final question.

"Do you two have a name picked out?" she inquired, her voice bubbling with happiness.

Kat shot Scotty a rueful grin. They’d tossed around a few names, and they’d definitely chosen a middle name. After giving Veronica her paternal grandmother’s name as a middle name, she wanted to do the same for her maternal grandmother, Marie. Scotty had beamed at that; the fact that his own mother’s middle name was Maria sealed the deal for him. So the middle name was easy.

But the first name…they’d gone round and round with it, finally settling on a handful of names and agreeing to wait until she was born to see what suited her best. Now, however, that moment was here…and as Scotty tore his attention from his daughter to glance at Kat, he realized from the look in her eyes that they were still as clueless as they had been when they started.

"Well," Kat began, almost shyly, "I got one I really like. But…"

"But…" Scotty prompted, still utterly enchanted by the baby in his arms.

Kat shrugged. "It never made the list, ‘cause I can’t think of a good nickname for it," she admitted reluctantly.

"Well, what is it?" Scotty asked, sure that, unless the name was something absolutely hideous, he wouldn’t have it in him to deny Kat anything.

"Isabel," she said softly, almost longingly, reaching a hand up to caress her daughter’s cheek.

Scotty glanced up at Kat again. "You gotta have a nickname?" he blurted out. "’Cause I like Isabel."

Kat chuckled. "This from the grown man who still calls himself Scotty," she retorted, and he had to give her that.

"Well, what about Izzie?" he suggested, but he hated the sound of it the moment it left his lips. He glanced at Kat, seeing his own revulsion reflected in her eyes. "Yeah, never mind," he shrugged, then turned his attention back to his daughter.

As he gazed at her tiny, caramel-colored face, her sweet rosebud mouth, her miniature eyelashes, and the dark curls that just barely covered her head, the love welled up within him once more, and he was suddenly taken back to a place and a time he hadn’t thought about for years, a moonlit spring night so long ago it might as well have been another lifetime. Words echoed in his mind, carefully practiced words that had tumbled from his lips that night...achingly bittersweet words, long since buried, that suddenly took on joyous new life.

I love you. I’ve loved you from the minute I laid eyes on you. You are the most beautiful, most amazing girl I’ve ever met…and the first time I held your hand, I couldn’t believe you were mine. We’ve already come so far…and we got our whole lives ahead of us. I dunno what life’s gonna bring us, I dunno what the future holds for us…all I know is that I wanna be there with you for all of it. I wanna hold you when you cry, pick you up and spin you around in circles when you’re happy, cradle your head to my chest when you’re asleep…I wanna make you as happy as you’ve made me. I don’t got much to offer you…but my heart is yours, and has been since the moment I met you.

You’re my world. You’re my light…you’re my life…you’re my reason for gettin’ up in the mornin’. Seein’ you smile…it’s the greatest thing in the world. Elisa…bella…I love you with all my heart, and I’d like nothin’ more than for you to be mine forever.

"Bella," he murmured around the rapidly swelling lump in his throat.

"Bella," Kat echoed, and Scotty was startled to hear her speak, so lost was he in his overwhelming emotions as he gazed at his daughter.

She must have been staring at him for a while, because there was just a trace of amusement in her voice when she spoke next. "That mean somethin’ special to you?" she asked softly.

Scotty swallowed hard and glanced at Kat through tear-blurred eyes. "Yeah," he replied huskily. "It does."

"Bella," she said again, gazing at the newborn.

"Means ‘beautiful,’" Scotty supplied.

"I love it," Kat said simply, as her large dark eyes met his. "It suits her."

"Isabel Marie Miller," Scotty whispered, still in a daze as he returned to staring at his daughter, who still had her fingers wrapped tightly around his. "Bella."

The nurse must have started to write something on the birth certificate, but Scotty wasn’t paying attention…that is, until he heard Kat abruptly stop her.

"Still ain’t got it right," she corrected gently. "It’s Isabel Marie Valens-Miller."

Completely dumbfounded for at least the fourteenth time that day, Scotty stared at Kat in utter amazement as the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen crossed her face.

"You’re…you’re serious?" he blurted out. "You wanna….she’s…you’re…."

"Of course," she replied, stroking her daughter’s soft curls as she gazed up at him almost shyly. "She’s yours, too, Scotty. And you’ve been here. Start to finish. Just like you said you would be. Couldn’ta done it without you."

Scotty felt the tears pooling in his eyes once more, and he simply couldn’t fight them any longer. Hastily, he gave his daughter, the daughter who now shared his name, back to her mother and turned away from them both just as the tears overflowed and started to trace hot paths down his cheeks. He quickly brushed them away, but apparently he wasn’t quick enough, because he heard a gentle chuckle from the bed next to him.

"Hey, I’m supposed to be the one with wonky hormones," Kat chided affectionately, and Scotty had to grin despite everything.

"Sorry," he muttered, settling into the chair beside the bed and gazing at both of them in wonder. "I just…"

"It’s okay, Scotty," Kat assured him, and through his tears, he could see that hers, too, were about to spill over. "It’s…kind of a big day."

"Yeah," he croaked in agreement around the lump in his throat. He was startled when Kat put her arm around him and pulled him close, and that pure, simple gesture proving to be his undoing. He wrapped his arms around both Kat and Bella and finally allowed the flood of emotions to wash over him. When it ended a few minutes later, he didn’t move, he just stayed in that perfect, silent embrace, wanting to preserve the moment forever.

Kat finally broke the silence. "Thank you, Scotty," she whispered earnestly, and he raised his head from her shoulder and looked up into her tear-filled eyes, unable to say anything, at least for the moment.

"You were here," she explained, pulling him closer to her. "You said you’d be here, and here you are. Scotty…you got no idea how much that means to me." Her eyes, once again, spoke volumes, and all he could do was smile.

"I should be thankin’ you," he replied hoarsely. "This is the most incredible thing that’s ever happened to me."

He had no idea how it happened, who started it, or why, but the next thing he knew, his hand had found its way to the back of her neck, and his lips were on hers in a tender kiss, one that, quite frankly, lasted far longer than he’d originally intended. The euphoria and the love they felt for their daughter was overflowing; it was everywhere, all around them, and a kiss, it seemed, was the only way to adequately express it. It was, after all, the way the whole damn thing had started.

Was it a good idea? Scotty wondered, as his lips dared to press against hers just a little more earnestly. He hadn’t a clue. But, good idea or not…it felt strangely right.

***

"Helluva day," Kat remarked softly, suddenly aware that Scotty, somewhere along the line, had wrapped his arm around her. It wasn’t something he did often, but she was forced to admit that it always felt great when he did. Just the warmth, the security, the closeness…it was wonderful.

"Yeah," Scotty replied, absently tracing circles on her shoulder with his fingertips as he closed the album with his other hand. "Pretty amazin’."

"Can’t believe one drunken night led to all that," she mused, glancing up at him.

Scotty turned to face her as he blindly placed the photo album on the coffee table. "Kinda glad you bailed on that blind date," he said with a grin.

She smiled back at him. "Yeah," she agreed quietly, suddenly aware of the fact that he was drawing closer by the second, and even more aware of the fact that she wasn’t pulling away. In fact, she was doing the opposite. "Me, too," she whispered.

His hand was in her hair then, his thumb softly brushing her cheek, and she closed her eyes in bliss. She knew where this was going, and she knew she should be stopping it…but it felt so damn good that she couldn’t, for the life of her, remember why.

She felt him pulling her closer, close enough that she could smell the lingering spicy scent of his aftershave, could feel the heat radiating from his skin and the soft tickle of his breath across her lips. His other arm was tightening around her, and her hand wandered its way up his bicep and over the curve of his shoulder, resting on the back of his neck…

"Kat…" Scotty began, his voice sounding strange and faraway even though his lips were practically touching hers, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. "I…I…"

"Mmmmm?" she encouraged, and she felt him tremble slightly.

"I, uh…think I hear Bella," he blurted out, then, before she knew what was happening, he was gone, his footsteps thundering up the stairs, leaving a sudden rush of cold, lonely air in his wake.

Scotty hurried up the stairs as quickly as he dared, not wanting to make it painfully obvious that he was fleeing the scene, even though he knew there was no way in hell Kat wouldn’t figure out that that was exactly what he was doing. Bella hadn’t made a sound, he knew that, and Kat knew it; he knew she’d see right through it, knew she’d see it for the pathetic, lame-ass lie it was, but, dammit, that was the best thing he could come up with while his body was shrieking at him to just kiss her, for the love of God, and his brain was screaming, equally loudly, for him to back the hell off and get out of there.

It seemed like it took years for him to reach Bella’s room, and once he was safely within the cocoon of its lavender walls, he closed the door as quietly as he possibly could, then leaned against the back of it, softly thumping his head against the door a few times before finally letting it rest there, the outward stillness belying the fact that, on the inside, every fiber of his being was spinning and churning with thoughts and feelings and hormones and God alone knew what else. For a few seconds, Scotty just stood there, forcing himself to focus for the moment on simply catching his breath and slowing his frantically pounding heart. He desperately wanted to think all that was just from his sprint up the stairs, but he knew better. His body was making that abundantly clear.

The raging flood of desire had come upon him suddenly, without even a hint of warning. One minute, he was quietly reminiscing with the mother of his child about the most magical day of his entire life, and the next thing he knew, his arms were wrapped around her, his lips were a hair’s width away from hers, his eyes were falling closed, every nerve, every inch, every cell of his body was tingling in anticipation…and he knew down to the marrow of his bones that if he had it to do all over again, he wouldn’t be hiding out in Bella’s room like the coward he’d suddenly become. No, he’d still be down there, absolutely devouring her, gently lowering her to the sofa, slipping his hand beneath her shirt…

And that was why he’d fled. Because he wanted to kiss her so badly he couldn’t see straight, and it had caught him so off-guard that he didn’t know what to think. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt that way toward her, of course…but that time, he’d had alcohol to blame for both the desire and the lack of inhibitions. They both had. But this night, they hadn’t had so much as a drop to drink. Just a damn pint of Chunky Monkey. So, to his chagrin, Scotty realized that he couldn’t blame his sudden overwhelming urge to kiss Kat, and do a whole lot more, on booze. Not tonight. Not this time.

Oh, for God’s sake, Valens, his brain reminded him, that was the last time you got laid. Hell, that was three years ago. Three very, very long years. You’re wastin’ the prime of your life, here. You gotta get back in the saddle.

Yes. That was it. That had to be it. Biology was conspiring against him. His libido had been very patient with him, really, waiting three years for him to get being a responsible dad out of his system, but now, now that Bella wasn’t a baby anymore, now that there really wasn’t any compelling reason for him to spend every single evening at home watching Dora videos with a toddler, it was gently…well, okay, not so gently, he amended…reminding him that it was high time he did something about it. He needed to get out there. Get back in the game. Get laid, for God’s sake.

A stolen glance at the silver-framed clock above his daughter’s bed told Scotty that it was barely ten-thirty, plenty of time for him to shower, change, and get the hell out of there, to go to some bar, some club, somewhere, dammit, and just grab a woman. Any woman. Didn’t matter who. He’d never been much for random, indiscriminate sex; not once had he strayed from Elisa’s bed in the decade and a half they were together, and even after that, for the most part, anyway, he’d at least been acquainted with the women he slept with. But now, he was desperate. Desperate to just get some, and, even more importantly, desperate to prove that he wasn’t into his roommate. Because that idea…the idea that he might be…that scared him most of all.

His hand was on the doorknob, the voice of his libido urging him onward…but he suddenly couldn’t move a muscle, so he just stood there, frozen to the spot, the cold metal cooling his burning skin and jolting him back to reality. Random sex with someone he didn’t even know might take the edge off his physical needs, he conceded…but whoever she was, no matter how leggy and busty and stunningly gorgeous she was…she wouldn’t have those soulful coffee-colored eyes. She wouldn’t have that rich, creamy skin that reminded him of a really good cup of hot chocolate. She wouldn’t have that gorgeous smile, that musical laugh, that way of making him feel so ridiculously content and happy and at peace with the world. She wouldn’t know him inside and out, wouldn’t know how to call him on his bullshit, wouldn’t be the mother of his child.

She wouldn’t be Kat Miller.

Son of a bitch.

Eyes suddenly wide with panic, Scotty yanked his hand off the doorknob as though it was on fire, turned back around, thumped his head against the door a couple more times, and then slid down it until he was sitting on the floor, the conclusion he’d just reached terrifying him beyond anything he’d previously imagined. As intensely as his body wanted him to kiss her, Scotty realized……his heart wanted it even more.

Alcohol wasn’t to blame this time, nor did he have the exhausted euphoria of a new baby to use as an excuse. He also realized, to his complete horror, that he hadn’t been reeled in by her vulnerability, either. Hadn’t been lassoed by wide, trusting eyes practically begging him to stay. Nope. Not this time. Kat wasn’t asking him for anything. She didn’t need him for anything. There was no crisis, no drama…there was just him, just her, just them. All she was doing was looking at him, but the expression in her deep brown eyes had taken his breath away. There wasn’t anything reflected in their infinite depths except…her. No pleading vulnerability or practiced bravado, just her. Her purest, truest self, that raw, intimate part of her that she didn’t let anyone else see…and that was why he’d wanted to kiss her so badly. Not because he was sex-deprived or drunk or being the hero…he was just him, and she was just her…

…and, goddammit, Lilly was right, he realized, with another soft thunk of his head against the door. There was something going on.

And that sent a panic like he’d never known shooting through his veins.

This, this thing with Kat, was the most perfect thing he’d ever been a part of. It certainly wasn’t always easy…often, far from it. Kat Miller was stubborn and closed-off and pig-headed…but she let him into places in her soul he suspected nobody else even knew about. He knew her, inside and out, knew things about her no one else did…and she knew him just as well. She called him on his crap, tore away his own self-protective layers, exposed him for who he really was…and yet, somehow, made him completely comfortable with it. The long conversations he and Kat had, the nights he spent on the couch with her and Veronica and Bella watching Disney movies or Dora videos, the times he spent tickling Bella until she shrieked and laughed like a miniature version of her mother, those all-too-rare nights they sat down to dinner as a family…that was what he’d been searching for. That was what he’d wanted with Elisa, that was what they’d dreamed of together. That was what he’d mourned after her death almost as much as he’d mourned her. He’d lost Elisa, his best friend, his soul mate, the love of his life, and he missed her desperately…but he also mourned the death of the dreams they’d had. Their dreams of marriage and kids and a family.

Scotty remembered how furious he’d been with himself the day Kat told him she was pregnant, how he’d driven to the bridge where Elisa had ended her life and stared into the brackish water that had claimed her, fighting the truth with everything he had, and being engulfed in helpless agony that it hadn’t turned out the way it had been supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to be getting drunk and sleeping with his co-worker, he wasn’t supposed to be using her to fill the gaping hole that Elisa had left in his life…

…and yet that was exactly what Kat had done, he realized. Slowly. Gradually. Unintentionally. That was why he’d been so happy, so fulfilled. His dreams had come true. Not with the person he thought they would, and they didn’t look anything like he’d imagined…but here he was. He had a family. A family with someone he loved. Not the irreplaceable Elisa, but someone he loved nonetheless. Granted, he wasn’t entirely sure what form that love was taking, and he was beginning to suspect it had more layers to it than he ever thought possible…but he had a family with someone he loved.

Well, no wonder he’d been so content without having so much as coffee with another woman. No wonder it hadn’t even occurred to him to flirt with anyone else for over three years. Because he was satisfied, on almost every level, in a way he’d never been before in his entire life.

Which was why this was scaring the hell out of him. Lilly was right. There was something going on: the most beautiful something he could possibly imagine. And, Scotty realized cynically, knowing him, he’d inevitably screw it up. He’d take this beautiful something and crush it underfoot until it was barely recognizable. If he made a move, if he did anything, if he rocked the boat even slightly…it would hurt not one, not two, but three people he cared about. Not to mention himself, but he didn’t care about that nearly as much. He’d dealt with pain before, and he could deal with it again. If Kat didn’t want anything more than what they had, then, yeah, it’d hurt for a while, but there was no way in hell he’d let that change anything. He wouldn’t move out. He wouldn’t abandon Kat, or Bella, or even V, just for what he was sure was a momentary crush.

Oh, get real, Valens, his brain scolded him, shattering the tentative conclusion he’d just reached. No way was this a crush…at least, he was pretty sure it wasn’t. Oh, he wished that was all it was. Crushes he could deal with. They came, they went, and two weeks from now, he might not be willing to give anything, anything at all, for another take on that couch, another chance to relive that memory, another chance to kiss her like he’d never kissed anyone in his life, to wind his tongue around hers and stroke the back of her neck and make her moan with pleasure and dig her fingers into his shoulders like she had that night, to make her---Stop it, for God’s sake! his brain ordered explosively. Are you out of your mind?

He had to be. Had to be. There was no other explanation.

You sure about that, Valens? his brain prodded him, and he was even more disturbed by the fact that, for the moment, anyway, it seemed to be using Lilly’s voice than he was by what it was suggesting. But, as he calmed down enough to think logically, he realized that, no, he wasn’t out of his mind. Not entirely. Not in suddenly realizing how attached he’d become to the mother of his child. But it wasn’t just because of that. No, Scotty discovered, he’d be attached to Kat whether they had that bond or not. Bella certainly didn’t hurt anything, of course, she’d been the one who brought them together…but he wondered if maybe, eventually, it might have happened anyway. It was pointless to speculate, though, because things had happened the way they had.

And what…exactly…was happening? Did Kat feel the same way about him…however it was that he felt? Had she wanted to kiss him as badly as he’d wanted to kiss her? Was it for the same reasons? Was she somewhere right now, every bit as terrified and desperate and confused as he was?

They had to talk about this, he concluded. They’d been happily going about their business for years, happily sleeping in the same bed, spending almost every evening together with the kids, raising Bella…had they been deluding themselves? What, exactly, was this? Was it love? Was it friendship? Was it a curious mixture of both? What the hell was going on? Even more powerful than Scotty’s desire to not rock the boat, he realized with chagrin, was his desire…no…his need…to figure out what exactly was going on with Kat. And if the boat rocked…so be it.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Scotty was creeping silently out of Bella’s room and back down the stairs, back to the scene of the crime, back to the couch where he’d come close to doing the very thing that they’d done to start this …whatever this was. Just the sight of the couch, he realized, that same damned overstuffed brown couch where they’d ravaged each other that drunken night over three years ago, made him feel that long-denied tingle of desire…but he knew in a heartbeat, before he even got a clear view, that Kat wasn’t there. Not that he could blame her. After he’d run up the stairs like the living room was on fire, where the hell did he expect her to be? Still sitting on the couch, her eyes closed, frozen in time, waiting for him to come back down there and finish what they’d almost started? No. Of course not.

And she wasn’t. The lights were off, the pint of Chunky Monkey they’d been sharing, along with the spoons, were nowhere to be seen, the off-white blanket they’d been snuggled under had been neatly folded and placed on the back of the sofa, the photo album was back in its customary place on the shelf…yes, Kat was long gone.

So where was she? Had she fled the premises completely? Frankly, he wouldn’t blame her. Scotty knew that if he’d been in her shoes, if he’d been jumped by his roommate after an innocent day of reminiscing, he’d already be at the airport, passport in hand, hopping on the first flight he could get on that would take him somewhere, anywhere, and the further away, the better. If another planet were possible, he’d be choosing that option. Because as terrified as he was of screwing things up, Scotty realized, she had to be even more so. No way in hell she wasn’t. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t impulsive. She didn’t throw caution to the wind. She didn’t let her whims dictate what she did. Oh, he didn’t either, not as much, not since Bella…he couldn’t. He had someone else to think about. But she had a decade more experience with parenting than he did, with being responsible, with realizing that she had a hell of a lot more to think about than just herself.

Which was why he was so damn terrified, and why he was sure she must be, too. That kiss…well, okay, almost-kiss…it could have dire consequences. And yet, the fact that it had happened, the fact that they weren’t drunk or flying high on the euphoria of bringing a child into the world or needing anything in the world other than that brief moment of contact…that moment that might not have been so brief, if Scotty had given in to what every atom of his body was screaming for him to do…that warranted a conversation, at least.

After searching the downstairs and finding no trace of her, Scotty paused at the window, glancing out to the moonlit street, the bricks still shining from the rain that had fallen earlier, and was relieved to see that her dark blue Jeep was still in its customary parking spot right outside the front door. But that didn’t mean she was still there, he realized, with a sinking heart. She could’ve taken the train, he supposed, or she could’ve left on foot…

Well, wherever Kat was, she was making it clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him. Not tonight anyway. And he couldn’t blame her. Not at all.

Reluctantly, he switched off the lights and trudged up the stairs, stopping to peek in on Veronica and Bella to make sure they were both sleeping peacefully, which they were, thank God. At least the girls were oblivious to the drama that was unfolding under their roof.

With a sigh, he approached the bedroom he’d shared with Kat since Bella was born, turned on the light…

…and, with a whispered curse, hastily switched it back off when he realized that Kat was already in bed. She didn’t even stir, thank God, and Scotty breathed a shaky sigh of relief. If she was still home, and asleep, it meant that, perhaps, she wasn’t as freaked out by what had happened…well, almost happened…as he was. She was sleeping quite contentedly, it seemed, and he frankly envied her.

Forcing his still-seething emotions to calm down, he disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for bed, then stepped back out to the bedroom and started to turn back the covers on his side. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t sleep a wink, but he supposed he should at least try. However, as he pulled back the blankets, his eyes fell on Kat’s sleeping form, and he simply couldn’t tear them away. Illuminated by the pale light of the moon, her hair was fanned out over the pillow, her breathing was deep and even, her long lashes fluttered against her silken cheek, the blankets accentuated the gentle sweep of her hips…good God, she was beautiful. How had he never noticed this before? Well, okay, he had, he realized, three years ago…but he’d been drunk at the time. Now, however…now, he was stone-cold sober, and she was asleep…and she was beautiful. So beautiful he felt tears stinging his eyes.

Scotty slid into bed slowly, gingerly, not wanting to disturb Kat in the slightest. That talk they had to have could wait until tomorrow. He didn’t have a clue what he wanted to say, anyway. While brushing his teeth, he’d briefly entertained the irrational hope that perhaps seeing her again, being in the same room with her, getting some distance between himself and that moment earlier, would chase away the thoughts he’d had, the things he wanted to do to her, the things he’d felt on that damn couch…but he was wrong. Dead wrong. So dead wrong, in fact, that, despite his brain shrieking at him that this was the worst idea in the history of the world, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and kissing her cheek. Softly. Innocently. Just a friendly little kiss. Surely he could allow himself that much. Maybe just that tiny bit of contact would dispel everything, would make him realize that he was imagining things, that it was just a fleeting crush, that he was making a mountain out of a molehill…

…or not, he amended, as he had to fight with every fiber of his being to keep the kiss innocent and friendly. He had to tear his lips away from her smooth mocha skin, or else they would have been eagerly exploring the rest of her face, her neck, the little bit of her shoulder that peeked out from that oversized blue T-shirt she always slept in…

Scotty finally realized, as he managed to stop kissing Kat, that he couldn’t trust himself in bed with her. Not tonight. Not when the mere idea of being that close to her sent the molten heat of desire spiraling throughout his entire body. He cast one long, lingering look at her, then, before his libido could make yet another stupid decision for him, he grabbed a pillow and hurried out, creeping down the stairs to spend the night on the futon in the den.

Lilly was right. There was definitely something going on. And they had to have that talk.

"Detective Valens…coffee?"

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Sweetheart??

"Ain’t surprised he bought your act," she griped, her eyes on the floor. "You’re pretty damn good at feedin’ people crap."

"Don’t think I don’t know you want me, too," he called after her, and that turned her blood to ice and stopped her dead in her tracks.

"You don’t think I know how it got started?" he asked her, his voice low with want and warning, yet still with a barely-concealed edge of anger, and she shivered involuntarily as his breath tickled her skin. "You don’t think I know what that cowboy did to you?" he pressed, moving closer and closer until his lips were mere millimeters away, and then he delivered the final blow.

"You don’t think I know how he made you scream?" he whispered, through clenched teeth.

…but she couldn’t move a muscle. Scotty’s lips were slowly, but deliberately blazing a trail up the side of her neck, his rapid breaths tickling her skin and making her shiver despite the fact that the room was suddenly, unbearably warm, and she could feel sweat starting to gather in the scant space between her back and his torso.

…but as his lips reached her earlobe and his arms wrapped even more tightly around her, she found that word completely driven from her mind. Her hand slipped from the doorknob and she found herself leaning her forehead against the metal frame, relishing its coolness against her burning skin as his tongue gently toyed with her tender flesh.

"You can’t say it, can you?" he murmured knowingly.

"So?" she retorted smugly, slowly raking her gaze upward to meet his eyes. "You want me."

"Never said I didn’t," Scotty replied cockily.

"Does it matter?" he demanded breathlessly, pulling away momentarily to search her eyes. She started to answer, to say something, to tell him that yes, it damn well did matter whether he wanted her or whether this was just some game…but before she had a chance, his mouth was on hers again, his hands were in her hair, and she was drowning.

With a gasp, Kat sat bolt upright in bed, looking around the room wildly as she tried to catch her breath, wiping the sweat from her forehead, replaying the last few seconds of her dream over and over in her mind, and wondering idly where her cigarettes were. A dream like that definitely called for a smoke, she decided. However, when she remembered that she didn’t have any cigarettes anywhere in the house, and hadn’t had so much as a puff since the night of her blind date, the night that had started this whole mess…the night that was also the last time she’d had real, actual, three-dimensional sex…she fell back onto the pillows with a frustrated groan.

Not this. Not again. Not another dream. Not now.

She’d thought she was fine. There was no reason for her not to be. True, she and Scotty had had a...a moment…or whatever the hell it was…on the couch, they’d almost kissed, but, thank God, he’d run upstairs to check on Bella before they’d had a chance to make yet another lethal mistake. After his sudden departure, she’d sat there on the sofa in stunned silence, trying to process what had just happened, but forced her mind away from the myriad possibilities of what it could have meant as she put the ice cream back in the freezer and folded the blanket they’d been sharing. It didn’t matter. They were reminiscing, and had been all day, and they just got caught up in a moment. Yes, it was true, they’d kissed after Bella was born, but…how the hell could they not have? Kissing was how it started when they’d made her, so it seemed only right to complete the circle. They were ecstatic and exhausted and overwhelmed with love for their new baby girl, and kissing was just…well, it was the right thing to do. It hadn’t happened since, and it had meant nothing that night other than a pure, friendly affection, a bond between them that was forever cemented by their dark-eyed, curly-haired, beautiful newborn daughter.

But this dream…there was nothing pure about it, nor about the feelings it was stirring up within her, the same feelings that that near-kiss on the couch had brought to the surface. She’d tried to fight them, tried to fight the fact that, to her horror, she’d actually wanted Scotty to kiss her, more than anything in the world, and now, now that she’d had yet another provocative dream about him, she forced herself not to reach for him in the darkness, roll him over, kiss him senseless, and make that damn dream come true.

She couldn’t even blame hormones this time, she realized with chagrin. She wasn’t pregnant, no chance in hell of that. Yet this dream was every bit as racy as that one she’d had about the cowboy, back in her second trimester, when she was the victim of merciless hormones…only this time, it wasn’t some mystery guy…it was Scotty from the beginning. And it had started with an argument…an argument about what? She searched her foggy, lust-addled brain, trying desperately to remember.

Oh, right…an argument about that interview. The interview that, she realized, had actually happened, only a couple of days ago. They really had interviewed a chauvinist-pig former airline pilot, and Scotty, his eyes twinkling with inspired mischief, really had suggested that she bring him coffee and pretend to be subservient for a few moments, just to get the jackass to talk. He really had called her "sweetheart," she remembered, and the flirtatious gleam in his eyes had thrilled her momentarily…and then she’d flirted back. Hell, they’d been flirting ever since, she realized with horror. Even Lilly had picked up on it. Not that Kat was surprised; Rush didn’t miss anything when it came to her co-workers, though she was remarkably dense when it came to her own stuff. No, what surprised her was that she’d been openly flirting with Scotty, and he with her, right there in the office that afternoon, in front of Lilly and God and everybody, and what the hell were they doing? And why would that interview trigger an argument, anyway? It was all fun and games, it was…

…it was about games.

And whether or not he was playing them with her.

That really was what she was afraid of, Kat realized. That kiss on the couch…well, almost-kiss…what had that been about, anyway? Was it just a kiss like they’d shared in the delivery room, one that spoke of friendship and nothing else…or did he mean something by it? Did he want to stop at kissing her, or did he want to do more? Did he want her, or did he merely realize that it had been quite a while since he’d had sex with anyone, and she was there and willing and convenient? Did he…did he have feelings for her?

Son of a bitch…did she have feelings for him?

No. Not possible. She couldn’t. She didn’t do feelings. Not anymore. She’d let herself feel things for Jarrod, things she shouldn’t have felt, not in a million years, not for a banger thug that knocked her up and never called, not for the man who’d dragged her lower than she ever thought she could go, not for the man who’d poisoned her, body and soul, and ultimately broken her heart. One night. One stupid, reckless night. That was all it had taken for her to fall… and now she was left with a constant reminder of how badly she’d screwed up, how she’d risked her heart, her career, her very life for a guy who’d fed her all those pretty lines, who’d made her think he’d always be there for her, who’d made her think she’d never be alone…

A chill ran down her spine as she realized how close history was to repeating itself. She’d let yet another cocky, good-looking guy sweet-talk his way into her pants, she’d carried and borne and was raising his child, and now she was falling for him. Risking her career. And her heart. And the hearts of her two daughters…for what? For an arrogant jackass with a lopsided grin and way too much aftershave?

Is that really all there is to Scotty Valens? Kat wondered. She’d thought so, at least at first. She’d heard that the reason there’d been an opening in Homicide in the first place was that her predecessor, Sutton or something, had only lasted a few weeks. There were rumors that there had been something between her and Scotty, that he was the reason she’d disappeared so suddenly, but Kat had never pressed, because she didn’t want to know. It was none of her business, anyway. She’d dealt with enough rumors in her life, she knew how out of control they could get. Besides, even if they were true, even if there had been something inappropriate going on between the two, who cared? People screwed up, and she was the last person to judge. She’d screwed up worse than all of them, worse than any of them could even imagine, and if the guys in Homicide ever found out how bad…she shuddered at the very thought. She was lucky, damn lucky to even still be a cop, much less a murder cop, with her checkered past, and the less everyone else knew about that past, the better.

So it was with a sense of carefully-concealed trepidation that she’d gone out on that first interview with Scotty, but after their first ten minutes together, she knew she had nothing to worry about. Whether her cocky Latino colleague was a womanizer or not, he wasn’t doing anything inappropriate with her, and she’d breathed a sigh of relief upon their return to the squad room that night. His actions toward her were nothing but professional, and after that first day or so, she’d never thought of him as anything other than a co-worker. Well, okay, somewhere along the line, he’d become her friend, someone she felt more comfortable with than anyone else on the team, with the possible exception of Vera. Nick reminded her of one of her brothers, and the snark and the food fights were exactly the way she and Kevin had communicated through the years…but Kat had never let her guard down around Vera the way she’d been able to around Scotty. She knew he could see through her smokescreen, and yet somehow that wasn’t threatening, like it would be with the others. For some reason she couldn’t begin to explain, she felt safe around Scotty in a way she didn’t feel around anyone else. So he was the one she confided in about that damn blind date her mother had insisted on setting up for her, and he was the one she’d called that night when things went horribly wrong.

Despite how comfortable she was with him, though, despite how safe he made her feel, she’d been sure, when she told Scotty she was pregnant, that he’d run off, and when he’d done exactly that, she’d been furious, but not surprised. That’s just what men did, she told herself. But it turned out that Scotty had just needed a few hours to get over the shock, to beat himself up for a while, and then he’d come around and far exceeded her expectations, and the life they’d built together with the girls was just so damn happy and comfortable and…perfect…that she didn’t want her stupid feelings to jeopardize it.

But as quickly as she dismissed them, as soon as she tried to ignore them and shove them under the rug and convince herself that they weren’t there, she realized that she couldn’t. As she thought back over the last couple of years, ever since Bella’s birth, she discovered that they’d stolen into her heart. Quietly. Almost undetected. She’d thought it was just affection for the man because he was her friend, he was Bella’s father, he’d stepped up to the plate when she’d needed him…

…and she did need him, she realized reluctantly. She’d needed him since that stupid blind date, if not before. How the hell did that happen? She never let herself need people. Needing people always ended in disappointment and pain. She’d learned to be self-reliant, to solve her own problems and clean up her own messes. How in the hell had she become the woman who called the guy in to kill the spider?

Kat didn’t know, but it scared her to death. She didn’t feel as though she was betraying herself, becoming something she wasn’t…no, not this time. In fact, it was just the opposite. She was more herself with Scotty than she’d ever been with anyone. He was the only person in the world she could truly let her guard down around, the only person she allowed to see even a fraction of the pain she carried with her, the only person she allowed to know that she had her weak moments, that beneath her bravado and her badassery, that she was just as lonely and scared as the next person, if not more so.

She’d have thought, with Scotty’s save-the-world tendencies, that it would have been an explosive combination. She’d seen how he was with Lilly, especially after the shooting. She’d seen how close to tears he was while they were waiting for the paramedics; she’d seen him pacing the hospital hallway, his partner’s blood staining his tie…and she’d seen how his worried eyes followed Rush’s every move for weeks after she came back to work. Kat wasn’t blind. She knew what he was doing. He was all but begging Lilly to let him in, to let him help her through the aftermath of the shooting, of her mother’s death…but she wouldn’t. She was more walled-off than ever. And finally, Kat supposed, Scotty had gotten the hint that Lilly wasn’t going to let him save her. Kat didn’t blame Rush, really; Scotty did come on strong, almost forcing his way in sometimes…but Lilly's problems were bigger than he could solve, and Kat knew, deep down, that Scotty knew that.

But, surprisingly, it wasn’t. He didn’t force his way in with her, at least, not for the most part. Instead, he was content to be invited, and, as a result, she invited him in more than she ever thought she would with anyone. Besides, her problems weren’t too big for one person. Hell, they were barely even problems. She’d just wanted Bella to have a father, to have someone who, in whatever capacity he saw fit, to love her and care for her so Kat wouldn’t have to do it all alone. She’d done it by herself before, and was willing to do it again, but she’d realized, over the years, that she’d really come to depend on Scotty, as had Bella. Even Veronica had bonded with him. They’d become a family.

Which was why she wasn’t going to let her stupid feelings get in the way. Feelings came, and feelings went, and besides, she had no idea whether Scotty had the same feelings toward her. What the hell had that almost-kiss been about, anyway? He’d wanted to kiss her, she knew it. She could feel how badly he wanted to, she could feel him trembling slightly as he’d drawn closer to her lips…but the fact remained that he hadn’t actually kissed her. He’d physically fled from the situation, and she’d decided, after a few moments’ contemplation on the sofa, that she was simply too damn tired to deal with it at the time, and she’d think better after a good night’s sleep, so she’d crept upstairs, relieved that he was nowhere to be seen, and crawled into bed.

But now, it was the next day, technically anyway, and regardless of what was going on in her heart, they needed to talk about what had gone on downstairs. She needed to know exactly what was going on with Scotty so she’d know whether or not to allow herself to feel what she was currently feeling, what she desperately wanted not to feel, but what she was beginning to realize, to her horror, that it didn’t matter if she wanted to have feelings for him or not…she did anyway.

Dammit.

Turning toward Scotty’s side of the bed, she tentatively prepared to wake him up, to talk about things…

…and he wasn’t there.

The covers were still tucked neatly up at the head of the bed, and his cell phone and keys and everything else that always decorated the nightstand were nowhere to be seen. Holy crap, he hadn’t even been to bed yet, she realized, and she stole a glance at the clock. Good Lord, it was four in the morning. What the hell was he doing? Where the hell was he?

Alarmed, she searched the room, thinking maybe he’d nodded off in the recliner or something, but there was no sign of him. His pillow was missing, though, which, she realized, meant that he was probably sleeping somewhere else in the house. She hoped. Unless he’d taken it with him on his quest to the bar to find some floozy to sleep with, she mused bitterly.

Quietly, she crept downstairs and searched the living room, and, finding no sign of him, she peeked inside the spare bedroom they used as an office, as well as storage for an ugly-ass futon that Toni had refused to allow Vera to bring with him when the two moved in together, and which Kat had been less than thrilled about taking in, but she’d decided it wasn’t a hill worth dying on.

It was there that she found Scotty, sacked out on the futon, sound asleep.

For a moment, she was relieved that he was still home, that he hadn’t fled the premises completely. No, he’d just fled their bedroom. Fled from her.

Son of a bitch.

He didn’t even want to sleep in the same bed with her, she realized. Maybe he’d wanted to kiss her, but it was becoming alarmingly clear to Kat, as she watched him sleeping soundly, that it wasn’t her he’d wanted to kiss. Not really. He’d just wanted to kiss someone. Mercifully, he’d stopped himself before he let himself go there, before he used her just to take the edge off his physical frustrations…before she let him.

She was half-surprised that Scotty hadn’t just left immediately and gone to the bar, but she supposed that was the next step. And she knew him well enough to know that, come the next night, he wouldn’t be in their house, he wouldn’t be on the couch in that ratty old Phillies T-shirt he loved so much watching movies with the girls…he’d be at Jones’ or McGinty’s or some other place, flirting and telling war stories and drinking himself into oblivion, then fleeing out the back door with some slut. She’d be surprised if he even managed to make it back to the her place. He’d probably fuck that girl right there in the damn back alley.

And eventually, he’d tire of always having to go to the floozy’s place, he’d grow weary of always having to hurry home so he could be there early enough to wake Bella up and get her dressed for daycare…he’d get sick of ballet lessons and Dora videos and quiet nights at home…he’d decide that he was too young to be tied down with kids, only one of whom was biologically his, and he’d split. Get a bachelor pad again. Go back to being Scotty Valens.

Or, even worse, Kat thought, as a chill ran down her spine, he’d…God forbid…fall in love with one of those damn bar whores. And then, not only would she lose him, but she’d lose Bella, too. She’d lose her beautiful daughter to Scotty and a new woman with even newer boobs. Oh, maybe he wouldn’t sue for full custody…but if he did, no way would he not win. A nearly-broke single mom forced to move back into the hood because, without Scotty’s income, she couldn’t afford anything better? What court would choose that over a happily married couple?

Even if he didn’t sue for custody, even if he did, by some incredible stretch of the imagination, keep sending her money so the girls could stay in their home, so Veronica could stay in the school she loved, Bella would no doubt visit him regularly. Weekends, holidays, school vacations…all of those were suddenly up in the air. Christmas the year before had been wonderful, just the four of them on Christmas morning, Bella and V tearing into their gifts while she and Scotty had blearily sipped coffee and complained good-naturedly about how dark it still was outside…and then they’d spent Christmas afternoon with the Valens clan, the girls fitting in seamlessly with the swarms of other children that had descended on Scotty’s parents’ place, while her mom spent most of her time in the kitchen with Scotty’s mother, resulting in a Christmas dinner that featured everything from traditional Cuban and Puerto Rican fare to soul food. It was as close to perfect as Christmas had ever been for her…and now, that bastard who was snoring on Nick Vera's futon was going to take all that away from her, just because he was getting tired of being a responsible dad.

Well, she realized as she turned around and stormed up the stairs, if this was how it was going to be…better she find out now. Better he leave before they got any more comfortable, before they got any more attached, before she fell any harder than she’d already fallen…before she forgot how to do this on her own.

She was Kat Miller, dammit. She could do this.

If only she had a goddamn cigarette.

The next morning, Scotty took a deep breath and stretched his legs as much as he could, scrubbed a hand over his stubbled face, and then rolled over to see what time it was, and whether or not Kat was awake yet.

A brief, but invigorating, fall through the air, ended abruptly by a meeting with a hard patch of scratchy carpet, was not at all what he had in mind.

What the---whose carpet was this? Where the hell was he?

Instantly awake, he looked around for a few seconds, got his bearings, and realized he was in the spare bedroom.

The spare bedroom? Wait a minute…why the hell was he in the spare bedroom? Why wasn’t he upstairs, in bed with Kat? Why was he---?

Oh. Right.

As the memories from the previous night came flooding back to him, Scotty rubbed the sleep from his eyes, then, with a deeply regretful sigh, he shook his head slowly, then leaned it against the soft, mustard-yellow suede of the futon and scrubbed his hand over his face again. Things had gotten out of control. Way, way out of control. He’d let some powerful memories and a suggestion from Lilly, an insane, crazy-ass suggestion from Lilly that made no sense whatsoever, almost ruin the best thing he’d ever been a part of.

The first thing he needed to do was apologize, he decided firmly as he struggled to his feet and tossed the fuzzy red blanket he’d been sleeping under onto the back of the futon. He needed to find Kat, clear the air, and apologize to her for letting things get out of hand. What they already had was great. There was absolutely no reason, none at all, to take things to a different place than they already were. There wasn’t any reason to rock the boat…and plenty of good reasons, really, really damn good reasons, not to.

Heading upstairs with determination in his steps, he realized that he wasn’t even a hundred percent sure what time it was, but there was enough daylight streaming in through the windows to give him hope that Kat might be awake, and maybe, just maybe, they could talk things over before the girls woke up, the television came on, and the opportunity for adult conversation was drastically limited.

After quietly climbing the stairs, Scotty paused briefly outside Veronica’s bedroom, and then again outside Bella’s, and was relieved to hear nothing but silence from inside both. He wasn’t sure how long he and Kat would have for their talk, but he wanted to make every minute count, so he crept down the hall toward their bedroom and tentatively pushed the door open.

Kat was still sound asleep, the covers tucked up around her shoulders, her dark skin contrasting sharply with the white sheets in the pale morning light. Scotty just stood there watching her for a moment, torn between waking her up so they could talk about what happened and smooth things over before the girls were awake and demanding breakfast, and just letting her lie there, sleeping peacefully, her head resting adorably on one of her hands, a slight smile turning up the corners of her mouth, her dark hair splayed across the pillow…

…and suddenly, to his horror, all the chaos and emotions and desires and everything else from the night before raced through the room, like a runaway train, crashing into him and cutting him off at the knees, and he had to maintain a white-knuckled grip on the doorframe just to remain standing.

Son of a bitch.

Whatever the hell was going on, it sure wasn’t limited to a one-time thing, he realized, his heart both soaring and sinking at the knowledge. Maybe it was just a crush, maybe just a momentary attraction, but if it was…it was the most powerful one he’d ever had in his life.

He needed to get out of there, he decided. Needed to get out of the house, now, get some fresh air, clear his head…and figure out just what exactly the hell was going on.

Hastily, praying that Kat wouldn’t wake up until he had his head on straight, Scotty grabbed some workout clothes, headed for the bathroom, then thought better of it and instead changed down the hall in the other bathroom, the one the girls shared. He had no idea whether the gym would be open this early or not, still had no clue what time it even was, but he needed to think. He needed to make damn sure he knew what the hell he was doing before he talked to Kat, because this was shaping up to be quite possibly the biggest gamble he’d ever taken in his life, and if he lost…if he screwed this up…

…he didn’t even want to think about it, he decided, as he tugged his favorite gray hoodie over his head and switched off the bathroom light. He wasn’t going to let himself go there. Not yet.

He could fix this.

***

"Mommy!" Bella shrieked happily as she came hurtling through the doorway and bounced on Kat’s bed. Despite the abrupt and startling end to what had turned out to be a surprisingly peaceful sleep, especially considering the dream she’d had, Kat welcomed her curly-haired little girl into bed with open arms.

"Mornin’, sunshine," she said with an affectionate smile, planting a kiss on Bella’s forehead. "Have a good sleep?"

"Yeah," the little girl replied, her curls bouncing as she nodded enthusiastically, then glanced around the room. "Where’s Daddy?" she inquired, looking up at Kat, her dark eyes wide with curiosity.

That was an excellent, excellent question, Kat realized, as she remembered that he hadn’t slept in their bed the night before. So…where, exactly, was Daddy?

"I don’t know," she replied honestly, trying to keep the sudden concern out of her voice. "Wanna go look for him?" she asked with exaggerated enthusiasm as she tapped the end of Bella’s nose.

Bella laughed and agreed readily, so Kat hauled herself out of bed and led her daughter on an exploration of the house. It started out as a game at first, Bella peeking in closets, around corners, and even, in a fit of giggles, under the furniture, thinking her mischievous daddy was just playing Hide and Seek with her, as he did from time to time…but as they searched room after room and found no sign of him, Kat began to grow worried. Then, after looking everywhere else, even the garage, where Scotty could often be found half-buried under the hood of his beloved Mustang, they finally reached the room where he’d been sleeping the night before. That butt-ugly yellow futon was empty, the pillow stashed at one end and the red blanket he’d been using tossed over the back…and Kat’s fears were confirmed.

He’d left.

That cowardly son of a bitch. He’d just turned tail and run.

Swallowing her rage, and a sudden, horrifying sense of loss, Kat pasted on a smile and took Bella by the hand. "Silly Daddy hid himself pretty good, huh?" she asked. Bella nodded, her tiny face perplexed.

"Well, how ‘bout we get some breakfast…and then I’ll take you to the park?" Kat suggested, forcing herself to sound chipper.

"The park?" Bella asked, her eyes wide with delight.

"Yep," Kat agreed, tousling her daughter’s curls.

"Yaaaayyyy!" the toddler shrieked, her fruitless search for her father forgotten in the eager anticipation of her beloved playground. She flung her arms around her mother’s waist, gave her a brief hug, then scampered gleefully into the kitchen and clambered up to her place at the kitchen table.

Kat poured some orange juice into a sippy cup for Bella, and as the child greedily slurped the drink, Kat reached into the freezer to grab the instant coffee. Upon closing the door, her eyes fell on a hastily-scrawled note stuck to the center of the freezer door with that stupid, outlandish plastic pig magnet that Vera had given Scotty as some sort of inside joke way back before she even joined Homicide, and which both of them staunchly refused to explain.

"Sat. AM—gym---back soon," the note read in a familiar scribble, and at those brief, barely legible words of reassurance, she nearly melted with relief. Scotty hadn’t left…not yet, anyway. He’d at least had the foresight to tell her where he was.

As Kat scooped the coffee into the pot and rummaged in the cupboard for Bella’s favorite cereal, a thought occurred to her, a thought that made her suddenly cognizant of the last time she’d been this furious with him. Then, as now, he’d gone to the gym.

That morning, so long ago it felt like another lifetime, when she’d told him she was expecting, she’d been equally convinced that he’d taken off, never to be seen again…except, in actuality, he’d just gone blow off some steam , beat himself up for a while, then plot his course of action. That memory flashed into her head as vividly as it had the day before when they’d talked about it in the office…only this time, when she recalled the anger flashing from Scotty’s eyes, the sweat pouring from his body, the power of those artfully carved muscles as they drove his fists into the bag again and again, she suddenly felt a searing heat coursing through her veins, one that she certainly hadn’t had at the time, nor, she realized, even yesterday…and the sudden flash of understanding, and lust, drove away all the anger as quickly as it had appeared. Her addled state of mind was helped not at all by a sudden swarm of unbidden images from her dream the night before, of Scotty glaring at her moments before he kissed her, the intensity and desire radiating from his eyes so thick you could cut it with a knife…the way he bent her over the table and---

"Mommy?"

The small voice pierced through her reverie, and Kat nervously brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and looked toward the table.

"What, baby?" she answered with a smile, trying to sound as casual as she possibly could. One never knew what question that child would come up with next.

"Can I have my Lucky Charms?" Bella asked pointedly, the look in her warm brown eyes, Scotty’s eyes, quizzical at the fact that her mommy seemed to have forgotten, for the moment anyway, why they were in the kitchen in the first place.

Kat sighed with relief and laughed briefly at herself as she retrieved the cereal and started to pour it into a bowl.

"Of course," she replied, grateful for the distraction.

***

The front door creaked open as Scotty trudged in, tossed his hoodie and his keys on the table beside it, then leaned wearily against the wall to kick off his shoes. He’d really beaten the crap out of that punching bag, he congratulated himself…but he realized ruefully that it had returned the favor. Though he managed to squeeze in time to at least go for a run most days, it had been a long time, too long, since he’d done anything quite that strenuous, and his muscles felt like overcooked spaghetti. It probably didn’t help that he hadn’t had anything to eat before he left, he decided, so he headed for the kitchen to grab some breakfast.

"Hey, V," he greeted Kat’s daughter, who lounged in front of the television with a bowl of cereal and a magazine.

"Hey, Scotty," she replied, tossing him a glance and taking in his drenched T-shirt. "How come you’re all sweaty?" she asked with a frown.

"Went to the gym," he grinned as he grabbed a bottle of Gatorade, then rummaged in the freezer for the Eggos.

"Did you have fun?" Veronica inquired around a bite of cereal.

As he stuck the last two waffles into the toaster and tossed the empty box into the garbage, Scotty took a moment to ponder the question. He wasn’t sure "fun" was the right way to describe it, exactly…but he sure felt a hell of a lot better. Despite his fatigue, despite the fact that he was pretty damn sure he’d be sore tomorrow, his mind was clearer, and he felt infinitely more settled. In the hour or so he’d spent kicking the punching bag’s ass, he’d formulated a plan…an idea…a pipe dream, perhaps, but he’d realized that he simply couldn’t ignore the feelings that had taken root in his heart God alone knew how long ago and were now in full bloom. He wasn’t sure what to call them, or how to even begin to deal with them…but they were there, they were strong, and they sure as hell weren’t going anywhere. Whatever was going on, it was definitely something, and he’d settled on a plan to begin exploring it.

Glancing up to see Kat’s daughter still peering at him with that expectant look in her eyes, that look he’d seen countless times from her mother, he realized, with a start, that he still hadn’t answered the question.

"Yeah, sure," he responded with a shrug, and that seemed to satisfy the ever-inquisitive Veronica, who fell silent and turned her attention back to the TV.

"Hey, where’s your mom and Bella?" Scotty asked suddenly. Usually on Saturday mornings, Bella would be in the living room with Veronica, the two girls sometimes bickering over what to watch, and he and Kat would either be in the room with them, at the kitchen table reading the paper, or sometimes, very rarely these days, at the office slogging their way through another case.

Veronica flipped a page in her magazine and didn’t even look up. "The park, I think," she replied. "They left right before you got back."

Wow. Kat wasn’t even willing to be in the same house with him, it appeared. Perhaps this would be more difficult than he thought. It was okay. He liked a challenge.

"Thanks, V," he rejoined, grabbing his waffles from the toaster and heading upstairs to take a shower.

***

Kat sat on a wooden bench beneath an ancient maple tree, watching her daughter play with a group of other children in the sandbox. That was Bella’s favorite place to hang out at the park, and, after a few hair-raising visits when all she wanted to do was eat the sand, she grew content to draw pictures in it, run it through her fingers, or scoop it up and pour it out with a plastic cup, over and over and over again, never tiring of the game. Kat had no idea what it was about sand that so fascinated Bella. It had never held her interest as a child, not for more than a minute or two, but she knew Scotty’s family all hailed from tropical places. Maybe it was his genetic material, she thought, with just a touch of bitterness.

Suddenly, a shadow fell in front of her, and, startled, she glanced up to see Scotty standing there with two steaming cups of coffee. For one brief, deliriously joyful moment, she was thrilled to see him. He really hadn’t run away. Whatever processing he needed to do, he’d apparently done at the gym, and now here he was, freshly showered and looking delicious in a form-fitting, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of worn jeans.

Her almost nauseatingly girlish happiness, however, was tempered by her brain’s stubborn insistence on the facts. The fact remained that they’d almost kissed, the fact remained that she was horrified by how much she wished that "almost" had been an "actual"…and the fact remained that Scotty had fled the scene, spent the night on the futon, and gone to beat the crap out of a punching bag before she even woke up, every move seemingly crafted to avoid her at all possible costs. Frankly, considering those facts, she was surprised as hell to see him there.

Carefully, as though he were approaching live explosives, Scotty took a couple steps toward Kat, still not sure how to broach the subject of what had happened…almost happened, he corrected himself…but with the stubborn set of her shoulders, the palpable waves of tension radiating from her, and the way she’d tossed him only the most cursory of glances and then gone back to staring at Bella…that almost might as well not even be there, he decided.

Tentatively, he held out one of the coffee cups to her with a hopeful half-smile, chagrined that her reaction (if she’d even allowed herself to have one, he added a bit cynically) was obscured by the clouds of steam that puffed up from the thin cardboard cup. Still, after a long, nerve-wracking pause, she glanced up to accept his peace offering, and he could finally read her eyes. They were guarded, as he’d known they’d be, but he thought he’d caught a flickering of something else right before that. Couldn’t be sure, though. Damn steam.

Taking her silence as a good sign, he slowly lowered himself to the bench beside her, and she seemed to acquiesce, not looking at him, but not making any move away from him, either. He figured, as he took a sip of his coffee, leaned his forearms on his knees, sighed nervously, and searched his brain for something that might pass for a good opening line, that that was at least progress.

Kat stole a tentative glance at Scotty as she sipped her coffee. He looked deep in thought, like he was wrestling with something, some dilemma…no, that wasn’t quite it, she realized as she noticed the determined set of his jaw. Holy crap, he wasn’t debating anything at all; no, he’d made up his mind about whatever it was…something he wasn’t sure she’d want to hear, from the looks of it…and he was just sitting there trying to figure out how to tell her.

"Bella can’t get enougha that sandbox, huh?" he remarked. Oh, sure, Valens, that’ll work. That’s exactly what you wanted to say to her.

"Yeah," Kat agreed, her voice sounding faraway.

"My mom and dad used to take all of us kids to Atlantic City every Fourth of July," Scotty continued, mentally kicking himself for beginning this conversation, one of the most important he’d ever had in his life, with something so pointless and inane. With a rueful shake of his head, he chuckled softly at the memory. "I coulda stayed on that beach all summer."

"So that’s where she gets it," Kat mused, studying her coffee cup and wondering just where the hell he was going with this.

Scotty fell silent for a moment, then sneaked a tentative glance at Kat. "We’re doin’ a pretty good job with her, I think," he remarked hopefully.

"Yeah," Kat replied, caressing the enraptured child with her eyes. "We are."

"It’s like the best and worst of both of us, wrapped up into one adorable little package," he added with a wry grin as he took another sip of his coffee.

"It is," she echoed, but something in his voice was giving her pause. She glanced at him again, trying to read his expression and mentally urging him to get to the point. Whatever it was, she wished he’d just hit her with it already. The sooner he slammed her with whatever unpleasant thing he was about to say, and she had a pretty damn good idea what it was, the sooner she could pick up the pieces and go on with her life, like she had so many times before.

"Seems like you’re thinkin’ about somethin’ pretty hard," she ventured, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah," he admitted, shivering slightly as a gust of wind hit them both. He might have been imagining the way Kat scooted closer to him, almost imperceptibly, and he fought the urge to put his arm around her, pull her close, and just finish what they’d started on the sofa the night before. To hell with that talk they needed to have.

But the very fact that he had that urge made him realize that he had to do this, no matter how stupid or foolhardy or guaranteed to end in an ass-kicking it was.

"Lil…said somethin’ yesterday that’s got me thinkin’," he began carefully.

"Yeah?" Kat asked, looking up at him with a bit of guarded interest. Her knee brushed his. Whether it was accidental or on purpose, Scotty wasn’t sure, but in any case, she made no move to pull away, and he was suddenly, intensely aware of her nearness. Even through his jeans, and hers, he could feel the warmth of her skin, and that little bit of almost-contact was making his head spin. This was getting ridiculous. He hadn’t felt like this since he was fourteen. Focus, Valens, he chided himself.

Clearing his throat, he continued. "She, uh…she kinda pointed out that I ain’t so much as had coffee with a woman since me and you…" he trailed off, not sure how to broach the subject they’d long ago agreed never to discuss again.

Kat sighed with defeat and turned her attention back to her coffee cup. So it had come to this. She knew it. She’d known all along this day would come, and, frankly, she was damn surprised it had taken this long. He really was tired of all the responsibility, tired of spending his weekends trapped at home, tired of all the work involved with raising a child, and he wanted his freedom back.

Kat had to admit that she’d been steeling herself for this bombshell ever since the day she announced her pregnancy, and that nagging fear had never really left her, despite how well things had gone. They’d been so happy lately, and she had to admit that she was surprised that he was choosing now to lay this on her…but Scotty Valens just wasn’t the type to sit around and not date. Sure, he had his periods of being single, but they didn’t last forever, and she realized she’d be a very stupid woman to think they would now. He wanted things, needed things…and he’d been almost unfathomably gracious since Bella’s birth…so, if he needed to be free to find someone else to build a real life with, a real family with…well…how could she deny him that?

But, to her chagrin, she realized she also couldn’t deny the sudden, almost overwhelming pain that idea brought. Scotty wanted a change. He even had someone in mind, she was almost sure of it. He had to, or else he wouldn’t be bringing it up.

Scotty watched her carefully for any hint of a reaction, and although he could see a plethora of emotions swirling in her dark eyes, but he couldn’t, for the life of him, interpret any of them with any sense of confidence at all. Women, he seethed inwardly, then decided to plow ahead.

"Anyway…she thinks it’s kinda time for me to…" he began haltingly.

"Yeah," Kat cut him off, almost sharply, shooting him the briefest of glares before turning her attention back to her coffee. "I get it."

Scotty frowned in utter mystification, and all he could do was stare. She said she’d gotten it…but she was furious. Furious before he’d even said a fraction of what he wanted to say. He knew that most of the time she could practically read his mind, but the storm clouds that were gathering on her face and the lightning he could see flashing from her eyes were telling him, in no uncertain terms, that whatever she thought he was saying, she didn’t get it. Not exactly, anyway.

While he was flailing for a response, she spoke again. "You wanna…go chase some tail," she spat, glaring at him fiercely, and Scotty was dumbfounded at her sudden vehemence. "You’ve put in your time bein’ a dad, but spendin’ your Saturday nights watchin’ Dora with a two-year-old is startin’ to get old, and you got some wild oats left to sow. I get it, believe me," she asserted.

Scotty’s head snapped up in surprise again. "No, actually, you don’t," he retorted angrily, a bit more so than he’d intended, and Kat jumped back in surprise, though whether it was what he’d said or how he said it that caused her reaction, he wasn’t sure.

Sighing in frustration, Scotty raked a hand through his hair, then studied the tender shoots of green that were just beginning to poke their way through the thatch of dead grass at his feet. This really, really wasn’t going well.

"Look," he began. "I ain’t sayin’ there’s someone else I wanna…I’m not…" he sighed again and glanced up helplessly. "I didn’t even know it had been so long until Lil said somethin’ yesterday, okay? So what does that tell you?"

Kat stared. She had no idea what that told her. Nothing she’d thought he’d want to say, that was for damn sure.

"So…you…you wanna start seein’ someone ‘cause Lil thinks you should?" she asked, an unexplained bitterness clipping her voice.

Scotty felt something inside him snap. "For God’s sake, Kat, would you just---?" he began in frustration, then trailed off, shaking his head and glaring at the ground.

They both sighed and sat in silence for a few moments, the electric emotions crackling between them almost audibly. Forget not going well, Scotty realized, this was an almost unmitigated disaster. He had no idea how the hell Kat had reached the conclusions she’d suddenly decided to jump to, or why, but he had to undo the damage. He had to fix this.

"Look," he began again, softly this time, his heart hammering inside his chest. "I…love what we have, okay? I really do. I mean, I never thought I’d be happy livin’ with you and the girls and havin’ my Saturday nights be pizza and PJs and Dora videos…but I am. I’ve never been happier in my life, and I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want anything else, okay? I…I just want what we got."

"But…" Kat prompted. She sensed the "but" coming before he even opened his mouth.

"But…" he continued hesitantly, sneaking another glance in her direction. "I never thought, in, like, a million years, that I could be happy like this, not after…and it…it kinda makes me wonder. Makes me wonder why I’m so damn happy, why I don’t want anything different." He stopped, searched her eyes again, and, not immediately seeing anything there to stop him, he finally decided to go for broke.

"Makes me wonder why I’ve spent the last twelve hours wishin’ like hell I’d actually kissed you last night," he finished quietly, his eyes now locked on his coffee cup.

Kat could have sworn her heart stopped beating, and she had absolutely no idea how to feel. She’d thought she knew where he was going with this; was nearly positive that, that afternoon, she’d be helping him pack boxes and arguing about who got Bella on her birthday…but this? This? She hadn’t expected this. She knew he’d wanted to kiss her; that much had been obvious, but it was sounding like…he was saying he had…feelings for her. Could that possibly be what he meant? Quickly, she weighed the two alternatives and discovered, with a start, that they were both terrifying.

"Scotty," she began, "I’m not sure I---" she trailed off, her eyes wide and her brow furrowed slightly.

Scotty sighed again. "I don’t wanna change what we got, okay? I don’t wanna screw it up," he reassured her. "And I don’t wanna try and make…this…whatever it is, this…this perfectly wonderful whatever it is…anything it ain’t."

Kat sighed with relief. And disappointment. God, this was confusing.

"But I do kinda wanna know what it is," he finished lightly, taking a sip of coffee and fixing his gaze on some faraway point, as casually as though he’d just made some comment on the weather.

Holy crap, she wasn’t making it up. Scotty wanted to put their...friendship, their arrangement, their co-parenting…their…whatever the hell it was…under a microscope and study it. That idea was both exhilarating and utterly terrifying.

Kat was silent for a moment, and he resisted the urge to look up at her again like some overeager teenager.

"Can’t believe you’re gonna be that guy," she finally muttered, her voice suddenly and inescapably defensive. "You, of all people. You’re gonna be that guy who’s gotta have a label for everything."

Scotty was taken aback by the sudden change in her tone. "No," he started to argue, but as soon as the words had left his mouth, he realized that, to his chagrin, she was right, and there was no use pretending.

"Okay, fine," he exploded. "I wanna know what the hell we’re doin’. I wanna know why I’m so damn happy bein’ a family with you and Bella and V. I wanna know why kissin’ you is all I’ve been able to think about since last night, all right? Dammit," he continued, helpless against the flood of emotions that he’d been unaware of until the previous evening, but now was utterly powerless to fight, "I wanna see what’s goin’ on with us. I wanna know what it is. ‘Cause it occurs to me that it just might be the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me…to either one of us… and if I’m bein’ an idiot and overlookin’ that, then…then I wanna know, okay?" He paused and searched her eyes. "Now, maybe I’m the only one who’s curious…and if I am, then I can learn to live with that." He took a shaky breath and looked at her, deep into her eyes, with that bottomless gaze that missed nothing. "But…I think maybe, deep down…you just might be a little bit curious yourself."

He stopped then, his breathing ragged, looking slightly taken aback, like he’d said far more than he’d intended to…but his eyes never left hers, and Kat was completely unable to speak. Dammit. She was curious. There was no denying that. And he’d seen right through her. He could see it in her eyes, she knew, because it was no longer possible for her to hide the truth, even from herself.

"Curious?" she asked suspiciously, hoping to retain at least some of her defense mechanisms.

"Well, yeah," Scotty replied lamely. "Ain’t you?"

"Yeah," she admitted, after a pause and a long, thoughtful stare into her coffee cup. "I’m curious. But…the girls…"

"I know," Scotty agreed.

"If findin’ out whatever this…whatever it is…actually is…means the girls might get hurt…I don’t wanna do it," she informed him, her gaze sharp.

"Me either," Scotty said emphatically. "The last thing I wanna do is hurt them…or you," he added significantly, peering deep into her eyes, willing her to understand what he was telling her.

Those last two words, and the huskiness in his voice as he said them, made everything stop, and Kat frantically searched his eyes.

Holy crap, there it was. That look. That little flickering something she’d seen in them the last few days, ever since that interview where he’d jokingly called her "sweetheart." It was a bit flirtatious, yes, but it was also deeply earnest, the same honest expression she’d seen when he’d told her he wanted to be involved in Bella’s life. Oh, God, he wasn’t kidding. He wasn’t playing games. He was even more concerned about her than he was about Bella and Veronica…

…and suddenly, the truth slammed into her, and all the memories she’d been having over the last two days crystallized as she looked at them in a new light. She’d thought Scotty was only there because of Bella…because of biological obligation…because of his determination to do the right thing, to atone for his mistakes, to make the best of a bad situation. But…he didn’t think it was a bad situation at all. No, he’d told her, just now, that it was the happiest he’d ever been. He was happy, not just because of Bella, but because of her. And he’d completely altered his life, he’d essentially given up his bachelorhood, he’d happily spent his weekends at home…not because of his daughter, at least, not entirely…but for her. She realized suddenly that Scotty was every bit as happy when he was alone with her, when they were grabbing cheese steaks after an interview, when they were joking around in the office, when they were enjoying the quiet on a Saturday morning before the girls woke up, as he was when they were together as a family. And he was just now figuring this out?

No wonder he was curious.

"I know," she answered slowly, and Scotty glanced up from his coffee to see the anger and suspicion suddenly gone from her eyes, replaced by a look of almost childlike wonder and amazement. He wasn’t quite sure what she’d just figured out, but it seemed to be important, and whatever it was, whatever its source…it gave him the guts to plunge ahead with his plan.

"Look," he began slowly. "This is scary as hell…but…it’s gonna drive me nuts if I don’t find out what’s goin’ on with us. But I don’t wanna screw anything up, or hurt anyone, so…I’m only gonna ask you one thing."

"What’s that?" Kat asked, her voice attempting one last stand at guarded defensiveness, but the underlying vulnerability in both her tone and her eyes called her bluff, making Scotty ache more than ever to pull her into his arms. Damn that look. And damn that Lil for makin’ me realize I can’t resist it.

Instead, he took a sip of coffee, gathered his courage, and grinned as confidently as he possibly could. "I want you to finish that date," he informed her.

"Finish the---" Kat answered blankly, thrown for a loop by his latest suggestion. The date? Her blind date? What the hell could he possibly be insinuating?

"Scotty, I---I dunno what you’re---" she stammered. "It’s been three years, I never did call that guy back, I---"

"Relax, Miller," Scotty replied, his grin broadening. "I didn’t mean with him." He took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes, and plunged in. "I meant with me. Tonight."

Kat’s eyes widened in shock. "Finish the date with you?"

"Yeah," Scotty answered with a shrug. "I mean, okay, you already kinda finished it with me the first time, but I ain’t talkin’ like that. I’m talkin’ we go to that restaurant, you wear your peach dress, I wear somethin’ nice, and we have dinner and talk. We can talk about the kids, talk about work, talk about the weather, hell, I don’t care, just talk. Like we always do. Only without V’s incessant phone calls and that damn toy of Bella’s with all the beepin’."

She smiled, at that, and, encouraged, he continued, his voice calm and reassuring. "And if that’s all it is, if that’s all it ever is, just two friends havin’ dinner, that’s fine with me, all right?" he asked, imploring her with his eyes to understand, ignoring the little inner voice that told him there was a decent chance he was lying through his teeth. "Like I said, I ain’t tryin’ to make this somethin’ it’s not."

Kat sighed shakily, feeling the twin thrills of panic and excitement. Dinner. A date. With Scotty. He wanted to go out on a date. With her. Tonight. To see what this was.

"What if…" she began tentatively, then trailed off. Scotty glanced quizzically at her, and she smiled, hoping it conveyed more confidence than she currently felt. "What if…just two friends havin’ dinner…what if that ain’t all it is?" she ventured.

Scotty couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping as he absorbed her words, and when he looked deep into her dark eyes, his heart began to race with what he saw there. She was scared, yes, and he couldn’t blame her for that. Hell, he was probably just as scared as she was. But mingled seamlessly with her fright was that enchanting, quasi-flirtatious look he thought he’d seen in her eyes the last couple days, the look he thought for sure he was imagining…and with the sparkle in her eyes and the tentative smile that was beginning to spread across her face…God, he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his whole life.

He swallowed hard, trying to absorb what it sure seemed like she was insinuating. "Then…then I guess we’ll go from there," he said slowly, still staring at her, hoping to God he wasn’t just dreaming.

Kat looked away, back into her coffee mug, and the intensity of the moment was lessened slightly. "I…might not still fit into that peach dress," she said with a chuckle. "I’ve had a baby since then, y’know," she added, with a somewhat flirtatious glance.

Scotty smiled, broad and dazzling, and her heart suddenly felt as though it was melting. She’d heard that phrase before, and had never, ever understood it. It had never made a lick of sense…not until this moment.

"Ain’t the dress I care about," he answered lightly.

"And…" she started again, half joking, but he could tell there was an undercurrent of worry in her voice, "It’s been over three years since I’ve been on a date."

"I know," he agreed slowly. "Me too."

She grinned, his reassuring demeanor putting her more at ease than she ever thought possible. "Might be nervous," she continued slyly, elbowing him slightly in the ribs.

"Yeah," Scotty replied skeptically. Where the hell’s she goin’ with this?

"So…I can’t guarantee I won’t drink half the bottle of wine before the calamari comes," she finished with a broad, teasing smile.

As beautiful as she was a moment before, she was even more so now…and he impulsively slipped his hand beneath the curtain of her hair, brushed her cheek with the pad of his thumb, searched her quizzical eyes for a moment…then slowly, reverently claimed her lips.

As Scotty finally finished the kiss he’d all but started the night before, Kat felt her heart melting within her. He’d kissed her before, of course, that first drunken night that had started it all, and then again the night Bella was born…but not like this. Never like this. Everything he’d said, and everything he hadn’t, was encapsulated in this one perfect, beautiful moment…he wasn’t leaving her. Not now…not ever. He was hers…and she was his.

As she returned his kiss, Scotty felt all the pent-up emotions bubbling up within him at an alarming pace. Everything that had been swirling around inside him the night before, all the confusion and terror and desire and everything else…it was gone, vanished as though it had never been there. What was left was so clear, so obvious, that he wondered how long it had been living inside him, waiting for him to discover it.

What was left was love. The purest love he’d ever felt for anyone. Love for Kat Miller.

He’d tell her that night, he decided. That night at dinner. Because he had a sneaking suspicion, based on the look he saw in her eyes as he reluctantly ended the kiss and pulled back, still caressing her cheek with his thumb, that just two friends having dinner was the last thing their evening would be.

As she stared at him in wonder, he couldn’t resist the mischievous smile that tugged the corners of his lips.

"Have all the wine you want, Miller," he reassured her. "I’ll drive your drunk ass home."