DISCLAIMER: This is a love story about two consenting female adults. Can't handle it, don't like it, don't read it. We're just borrowing Dick Wolf's characters for fun; we aren't making any money from it.
AUTHOR' NOTE: When two writing heads get together in a round robin...
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

It's Gotta Be Love
By Katherine Quinn & Adrienne Lee


"Have I told you how much I hate doctors?" I take your hand and play with your fingers as we sit in the overly cheery room, waiting our turn.

"Yeah, well, at least it's not your reproductive ability at issue."

"I'm not sure it's your reproductive ability either, Sweetie."

"Yeah, right. Who are you trying to kid?"

"Maybe I have been doing it wrong."

You just roll your eyes at me.

"Remember that movie we watched when we were at Trevor's?"

"What movie?"

"You know. His stash. Remember the one where the woman shot stuff out of the, you know," I whisper, "Thing? Maybe we need to get one of those."

You laugh. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"Well… that'll be more natural."

"Yeah. Maybe you could ask the doctor."

"No way!"

"Thank you, God."

"Fine." I sulk.

"I wonder what she's gonna suggest," you wonder for the nth time since we made the decision to come.

"I know I don't want you taking fertility pills, with all the potential risks."

"Right. And I don't wanna give birth to a litter."

Shifting in my seat so we can look at each other, I suggest, "Maybe we could just let her, you know, do it."

"You mean…"

"Like she had initially suggested."

"But you want to be a part of it. And I want you to be."

"I can still be in the same room with you, and hold your hand?"

You furrow your brows and sigh. "Let's just see what our options are."

1652 Consult

The doctor walks into the room, and smiles at both of us.

"Alex, Olivia, its good to see both of you." She says with a smile.

I half smile, with my legs up in stirrups, it's hard to feel like it's good to see anyone.

"You two are trying to conceive?" She says, looking down in her chart.

"We've been trying for about eight months, and well…"

"It hasn't worked," I say plainly.

"Yes, I can see that." She says, looking at me. "So what can I do for you?"

"Well, we want to find out," you start.

"I want to know if there's something wrong with me." I interrupt.

She looks down at her chart. "Well, it looks like you had an exam here before you started and nothing came back abnormal."

"Then why are we having the problems?" I ask.

"Sometimes," she says, with what's supposed to be a friendly smile. "It can take awhile for it to work itself out."

"We're just worried," you say, interrupting, "Because we've very precise about when we inseminate. We do the ovulation tests, and make sure we're following a schedule."

"Oh," she says.

"And we're just concerned, because it's…"

"Not working," She finishes for you. "Eight months is not a necessarily long time to try for a child."

"It feels like forever," I sigh.

She smiles at me. "Have you considered that your age may be a factor in this?"

"What do you mean my age?"

"Well, you're almost forty." She says gently.

"So?" I ask.

"So that can be a factor," she says.

"So what do I do about it?"

1653 GRILL

"There are many fertility treatment options," the doctor begins.

"We don't want anything invasive, or drastic," I jump in.

"Actually, most doctors only recommend these treatments to couples who've been trying for at least a year. But I guess your situation is a little different."

"Because of my age?"

"No, because you're a same sex couple."


"So what are our options?" I ask.

She looks to you, to wait for your go ahead. Then she starts, "Well, we could put you on Clomid."

"What's that?" I demand.

Giving me a polite smile, she replies, "It's an oral drug for ovulation induction."

"I'm not going to have multiple births, am I?" This time you fire the question.

"The chances of twin pregnancy does increase, but only slightly, and assuming the drug works."

"It might not work?"

"Nothing's guaranteed, Alex. As much as doctors hate to admit it, exact science doesn't work here. But we could increase your chances."

"What are the risks or side effects?"

"It's been used for decades. There isn't any evidence that it'll cause any birth defects."

"Fine, but what about for Liv?"

"Some minor discomforts, maybe bleeding, some women develop cysts in the ovaries, but they're benign and will resolve themselves," she explains. "Some women will have enlarged ovaries, and," she hesitates briefly.

"And?" I prompt.

"There's been talk about links between fertility drugs and a slightly increased risk of cancer. But now they're saying the cancer might be due to the infertility itself, like the women are prone to problems or have some abnormalities that contributed to their inability to get pregnant."

"I see. But they're not completely sure?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"So I take the drugs, and that's it?" You ask.

1654 Success

Taking pills seems too easy, and I look skeptically at the doctor while she tells us that's not exactly all we have to do. There are far more visits than I want to endure. And check ups, poking and prodding.

"So I could get cancer?" I ask.

"It's not a proven link. And it might be able to help."

"But it might kill me." I sigh.

"It's unlikely," she says.

"And I might have thirty kids."

"That's unlikely," she says.

"Can you guarantee?" Alex asks.

"There are no guarantees in this business." She shrugs. "All I can do is better the chances of something happening naturally. In the end, it's up to nature."

"And science." You sigh.

"Science can only help what is ultimately a natural process."

"And I would recommend," she continues, "That you start doing your inseminations here."

"I'm nearly sure we're doing it right," you say, quietly.

"I am sure you are, but we can get a better clinical picture of what's going on, and it might help. We can create a schedule and…"

"We have a schedule."

"I'm sure you do," she says.

"I wanted Alex to be involved." I say to her.

"She can be involved here." The doctor says smiling at you with sincerity. "The idea here isn't to make you feel isolated or clinical, really. The idea is to create a positive environment for conception. Technically, you haven't been trying long enough to be considered as really having a fertility problem, per se, but we can try to make your attempts more successful in the future."

1655 MORE

I don't know about you, but I don't think I want you to go through this. What if there really is a link between cancer and fertility treatment? Now matter how small the risk, I wouldn't want that.

Would you? Just so we have a kid? Or a dozen? I thought we talked about pills and ruled them out already?

Have you changed your mind?

After all, this is your decision. It's your body we're talking about.

But shouldn't I get some sort of a say in this?

But we want kids.

At least I thought we do…

"So what all do we need to do?" I sigh, somehow already feeling defeated.

"Well, we can begin the Clomid treatment when Olivia starts her next period. Then when it's time, we'll wash the semen…"

"You'll what?"

"Separate the sperm from the rest…"

"Wouldn't that harm them?" I ask.

"Not that we're aware of. Thousands of healthy babies have been conceived through this method, Alex. It's really very simple. I'll use a catheter to put the sperm directly into Olivia's uterus." She explains, then turn to you. "When time comes, we'll give you an injection…"

"What kind of injection?" I jump in.

"Sweetie," you say, smiling softly, squeezing my hand. "I'm sure the doctor will explain everything. Right? Doc?"

She smiles back at you, then at me. "It's all right, Alex, I understand how all this might make you nervous. But there's really no need to be. It's perfectly safe. You can go back to normal activities immediately afterwards."

I sigh.

"But before any of this, we need to run some tests on you, Olivia."

"Tests?" You wrinkle your brows.

"To make sure you don't have any physical condition that might be hindering your pregnancy."

1656 Chances

The doctor walks out of the room, and leaves us to "talk things over," as she says. Together, we don't really do much talking. You take my hand in yours, and give it a quiet squeeze.

"Penny for your thoughts," I whisper.

You don't say anything for awhile. "I don't know. I just… I guess that she gave us a lot to think about."

"Yeah," I sigh."

You look into my eyes, my legs still up while you search for the words that you want to say.

"But what do you think?" I prod you.

"I think this is suddenly far more complicated than it was before. I mean, it sounds like there are a lot of next steps."

"There are. But we knew there were lots of different treatments available. How do you feel about me taking the drugs?" I ask you. Even though I'm conflicted about it, the consequences, the side effects, the chances of birthing a small tribe, I still want to be able to give you what you always wanted. A baby. Our baby.

"Liv, it's your body," you say quickly.

"But it's our baby." I supply. "And this might be the only way we can get that baby. We want that, still, right?"

"Of course." You say, slipping back into silence.

"So, we do it?" I prod you.

"What if something happened to you?"

"What's going to happen?" I ask you, squeezing the hand you still have placed in mine.

"You could get cancer or something," you sigh.

"You heard what she said, the chances of that are really low."

"But still there."

"But it's our baby. This might be the only chance we have."

1657 HANDS

I stare down at our joined hands.

Is this really our only chance to have a baby?

The doctor's right. We haven't been trying for very long, all things considered.

"What if we tried again, on our own?" I ask you.


"It just seems… easier?"

"For how long?"

"Until we reach a year?" Then I add quickly, "Maybe we won't have to."

"I don't know, Alex."

I sigh.

"Talk to me, Sweetie," you say gently.

And I look at you, barely dressed in the paper gown, with your legs up on the stirrups. You're the one getting poked and prodded and taking the potential risks, and you're trying to comfort me…

"Can I be honest? Perfectly honest?"

You squeeze my hand. "I insist!"

"It's your body..."

"You said that already."

"Yes, but if the choice were mine, I wouldn't want you taking the drugs."

"But, sweetie, I want us to have a baby…"

"Remember what I told you before? About wanting you more?"


"What if they're wrong, and there is a link between fertility treatment and cancer? What if you're one of the rare individuals, Liv? I don't want to lose you to that."

"But if that's the only way we could have a baby, I think we should consider it."

I hear what you're saying, and in my mind's eye, I see us holding a set of little hands, each of us on either side of… our baby.

Will it be a girl? Or a boy? I still haven't allowed myself to speculate. Would she or he be a brunette like you? Or a blonde like the donor?

Is it really our only choice? Is it?

She or he could be a blonde like me…

I squeeze your hand, and I whisper, "Maybe it's not the only way."

1658 Decisions

"So then we keep going?" I ask you. "With nothing?" I'm not sure, with the pile of new information that's swimming around in my head that I can make a decision. I want for us to have our baby, I want us to be happy and together with a beautiful little person as an expression of our love. But I can also see the way your brow is furrowed, the frown on your face that tells me that you're worried and concerned and not sure. And you not being sure makes me not sure, and that only serves to increase the circle of insecurity that's bubbling inside me.

"What do you mean?" You ask, looking at me, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead. I wonder if you're doing that to reassure me or to reassure you.

"We just do it. You and me." I sigh, shrugging, pushing my thighs together in a futile attempt to feel less exposed. "Do you want to do that?" I ask.

"I want us to be happy.' You say. "But what do you think about what she said. It sounds like there are a lot of options open to us."

"Yeah, there are." I shrug.

"What do you want to do?" You ask me, pointedly for the first time.

"We can keep trying. You and me. At least until it's been a year. I just… I don't want to disappoint you. I don't want to keep disappointing you."

"You don't disappoint me." You say, with a sigh. "Liv, this isn't about you."

"Uh, I think it's uniquely about me. As you keep saying, it's my body."

"It's your body, but it's not something you can control. It's not something I blame you for."

"What if you do one day?"


"Alex." I sigh.

"I want to try. Just us." You say, quietly.

"Then that's what we do." I say, resolutely.

1659 DO

"What are you thinking?" You ask as we wait for time to pass.

I run my finger along your lips, then dot your nose. "Just wondering."

"About what?"

"Whether it'll work this time?"

"Yeah, well," you sigh. "I'm not holding my breath."

"Maybe that's actually a better attitude."


"You know, the watched pot never boils? So maybe if we stop thinking about how much we want this, we'll get what we want?"

"Is that how you win your cases?" You ask with a small twinkle in your eye.

"No. Of course not. But that's different."

"Whatever you say." You shift your shoulders, and sigh.

"You shouldn't move so much," I caution.

"You try holding your knees against your chest and your ass up the air for twenty minutes."

"Is it really uncomfortable?"

"It's all right. I haven't had a cramp or anything."

"How did it feel, with the new… method?"

"You mean the diaphragm?" You roll your eyes. "How do you think?"

"Maybe I put it in wrong?"

You shrug. "I don't think so."

"Me neither." I lean in to kiss you gently. "Anyway, it gets the sperm closer and holds it in."

"Which makes me wonder why I'm still rolled up like a pretzel."

"To make sure gravity doesn't work against us?" I shrug and check the clock. "We have ten more minutes."


"I love you," I say with a smile, and kiss you on the nose.

"You'd better."

1660 Patient

"You know, this is kind of ironic," I say, shifting my hips to make my legs feel less heavy and painful against my chest.

"What is?" You ask, with a smile, sitting up next to me and looking down into my eyes.

"That we're trying so hard to get me pregnant. Do you realize how much of my life I've spent trying not to get pregnant?"

You crack a smile. "It's nice to not have to worry about that, isn't it?" You ask me.

"Yeah, it is. All that time praying for infertility must have been worth it."

"Silly," you say, leaning in and kissing my forehead.

"It seems weird to be praying for a child now." I say, thoughtfully.

"Does it?" You ask.

"Actually," I barrel forward, "If you really think about it, I've spent far more time trying not to get pregnant, and far less time trying to."

"I guess that's something." You say, kissing me again.

"I can't believe they think this works," I sigh, complaining as my muscles start a more insistent protest against my position.

"It makes sense."

I roll my eyes without thinking about it. "What happened to the good old days when all you needed to get pregnant was to neck in the back seat of a Chevy?"

You laugh.

"We haven't tried that," I say with a laugh.

"And we're not going to. Besides, I don't think you could get into that position in the back of a car."

"It'd be fun to try!" I laugh.

"No," you say again, while I look at you hopefully. "No." You repeat, as I crack a smile.

"You're no fun." I complain.

"That's not what you were saying fifteen minutes ago." You say with a coy smile.

"Not fair." I complain. "Not fair at all."


"What are you doing?"

"Prepping?" I reply, as I pull the tube out of the container.

"But I should be done ovulating."

"According to the calendar."

"And science."

"Maybe we're being too scientific."

"But according to the doctor…"

"We're talking about statistics. Maybe your body's abnormal," I say with a smile.

"Hey!" You protest. "I resent that!"

Leaning into you, I whisper, making sure you feel the warmth of my breath against your ear. "Are you turning me down?"

"You were being insulting. I should."

"I was just teasing," I say, nibbling on your ear. "You won't."

Your sigh sounds more like a whimper.

"So." While I continue to tease your earlobe, my fingers wander to the front of your shirt. "Wanna make a baby with me?"

"Alex…" You laugh, turning your head to guide me down your throat.

"I guess that's a 'yes'?"

"What if it doesn't work this time?"

"Thought we were, for at least a year?" I slip my tongue down the V of your chest.

"We were, are."

"So, let's not worry about it."

"But…" You gasp.


1662 Another Chance

With a line of little kisses, you slide down my body, flushing my body with a warm wetness.

You touch me, and I'm ready for you.

With a kiss, and nothing more, you slide down my body, teasing and tasting your way between my legs.

I moan as you slide your fingers inside me. Your pacing matches the way my body responds, carefully building me up.

"Now," I whisper, as you slip your tongue over me. My whisper is our understood warning, the warning that I'm nearly at the edge, and only a few seconds more from you will push me over.

"You sure?" You whisper.

"Yeah," I moan, as your mouth loses its contact with my screaming flesh, and you slide the small syringe into me with precision that's come from practice. Another second passes and you slip the diaphragm inside me.

In a moment, your tongue slips back over me and you carefully lick me, sucking on me, making my body tense in a shaking orgasm.

You slide up my body, giving me a quick kiss, and urging my legs up with you and onto my chest.

You kiss my face while, still breathing heavy, I tuck my arms around my legs holding them into me.

I smile a cheesy smile, and you lean against my legs.

"Why you smiling?" You ask me with a giggle.

"That was really… good." I smile back.

"Really?" You tease.

"Uh huh."

"I love you baby." You whisper, as you rub the top of my shin.

"I love you too." I close my eyes and try to imagine this finally working… and how happy we'd both be…

1663 WAIT

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Sweetie." You sigh. "We went through this last time."

"But I thought."


"Maybe you've changed your mind?"


I try to return to my reading, only to find myself unable to retain anything. "Liv?"

"Yes, Sweetheart?"

"Are you sure you want to wait?"

"Yes, Alex, I'm sure."

"Why?" I fail to keep the whine out of my voice.

"I thought we're not supposed to be stressing over this."

"Yes, but you're late."

"Only a couple of days."

"But you're usually like clock work."

"That's not true. I was early last month, remember?"

"How can you be so calm about this?"

"Because," you reply with nonchalance, then return to your breakfast.

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"



"It's my body, like you said."

I sit back in my chair and cross my arms. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

You grin a cheesy grin. "Yep."

"I hate you."

1664 Delicate

"That's not fair," You whine at me, even more. "I really want to know."

"Baby," I mumble, rolling my eyes, and patently ignoring you, picking up my spoon and sucking the milk off it, while you watch me. Your eyes are boring holes into my flesh, as you wait for me to look at you.

"What?" You complain. "Why don't you want to know? How can you be so god damn patient?" You pout, your book twisted around your finger.

"Can I tell you a secret?" I ask, looking at you briefly with a half smile.

"Of course." You say, leaning over your chair towards me.

"But this might make you mad." I say, carefully, still with a smile.

"What?" You ask hesitantly.

"You have to promise you won't be mad." I say, with a smile.

"Okay." You say, throwing your book onto the coffee table and scampering over to me at the table. "What?"

"You're sure, right?"

"Of course, what is it?" You demand.

"I already took a test." I admit, quietly.

"Oh," you say. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was waiting for the right time." I say, staring into my bowl.

"Negative?" You ask with a sigh.

"I didn't say that." I say, slowly stirring the small crumbs of cereal around my bowl in tiny circles.

"Wait, it wasn't? That means, you're, that means you're…" You stammer.

"Pregnant?" I supply the word with a grin, looking into your eyes. "Yeah, it means I'm pregnant."

"And you didn't tell me?" You scream at me, swatting.

"I was waiting for the right moment," I laugh. "And you can't do that anymore. I'm delicate now."


"We're…" Suddenly I find myself speechless, as the conversation sinks in.


"Pregnant," I echo.

"Sweetie? Are you okay?" You smile up at me from your cereal bowl.

I nod and repeat, "We're pregnant."

"As in expecting? Something we've been trying to do for the last nine months?"

"I know, I know." I run my fingers through my hair and flip it back. "I think I need to sit down."

After I drop into the chair, you cover my hand with yours. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. How long?"

"Eh, that would be about a month?"

"No, I mean how long have you known?"

"Promise you won't be mad?"

Which tells me you've probably known for the last three weeks. "How could you keep it from me?" I ask, my stomach flipping and my brain a jumbled mess.

"A surprise?"

"So what are we going to do?"

"I don't know? Go back to the doctor? What do you mean? Aren't you happy?"

"Yes." I smile. "Of course I'm happy. Shocked and happy. Shoppy? Shappy? Turning into a babbling idiot?"

"Your own words." You smirk.

"Shut up." I swat your hand. "We're going to have a baby. We're gonna have a baby!"

"Ow. That hurts." You wince at my shout.

"Sorry." Oh my god. "We're going to have a baby!"

1666 Telling

You stutter over and over again that we're pregnant; we're going to have a baby.

I just smile at you, feeling like a little bit of a goober myself.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You demand.

"I wanted to be sure." I try to explain.

"But you've known."

"I had a feeling," I say. "And those early tests can have a really low accuracy rate."

"But you…"

"And I wanted to be sure before I got our hopes up. But, well, I'm late, and the test still says positive." I shrug at you.

"When were you going to tell me?" You demand.

"I was going to take you out and tell you. But you're so damn impatient."

"We have to call mom," you laugh, picking up the phone.

"Alex." I say, quietly, taking your hand.


"I think we should wait to tell other people."

"But Mom…"

"Alex…I think we should wait. At least until the first trimester is over."

"But, Liv." You nearly whine.

"I don't want to get everyone's hopes up. W hat if something happens."

"Don't even think like that," you scold me.

"Fine, but I would be more comfortable if no one, not even mom knew. Just not yet. When the time's right, we'll tell her together."

You eye me warily. "Fine. But I don't like it," you say, crossing your arms.

1667 PLANS

"Come on, Sweetie." You lean in and place a kiss on my cheek. "Humor me?"

How can I say 'no' to your puppy-dog look? "Oh, all right." I uncross my arms and add with a smile. "Considering."


"You're carrying our baby."



You grin deviously.


"I wonder what and how much I can get away with now that I'm pregnant."

A lot? Short of murder? Even that might be justifiable depending on the circumstances. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, for instance, are you going to do all the driving now?"

"I could, if you want. I thought you liked to be the one driving."

"And are you going to lug all the groceries?"

"Uhh… We can get them delivered."


"Drop off?" I laugh. "In other words, you want to unload your chores."

"It's only fair."

"I suppose." Then it occurs to me, "What are we going to do about the nursery?"

1668 Ours

"I don't know," I shrug. For the first time, I realize how little I've thought about that stage of this process. Decorating it is not my deal, it's yours. "I'm sure you have lots of ideas. It shouldn't take you a long time to form out a plan." I say smiling at you.

"We need to make all sorts of decisions." You say, excitedly.

"Alex, we have awhile."

"Only eight months!"

"That's a long time, baby." I smile.

"We're still going with neutral colors, right? Not pink or blue, something more like yellow… maybe a pale green. Or we could ignore pastels all together, go for something more vibrant and alive to stimulate imagination."

"I already told you that's for you to decide. I'm not good at that stuff."


"I'm doing my part, I'm carrying. You get to pick the paint colors."

You laugh at me. "You're right, fine, I'll make the decisions about that. We can get it all done."

"I'm sure you will." I smile. "By the end of the day I expect you to have our baby's entire live mapped out down to college loan plans."

"I'm not that bad," you say. "Besides I like to know what's going to happen next."

"Well, I hate to tell you this, but what's going to happen next is mood swings and morning sickness. We have a lot of time before we welcome anyone into the world."

You giggle excitedly, and reach your hand over my stomach. "Our baby's in there."

"Yes, roughly the size of a pea."

"But still our baby."

I smile. "Yeah, our baby."

"I love you," you whisper, kissing my neck gently.

"I love you too," I whisper back, wrapping my arm around your head and holding you close.


"What's all this?"


"What kind of stuff?" You ask, then peel back the box lid. "Books?"

"Books, paperwork, all the stuff in and around my desk. I don't know how I managed to accumulate so much paper."

Giving me a funny look, you decide to leave that alone, and ask instead, "So what are we going to do with all the boxes?"

"I don't know. Take them to my office? They're all kind of work related anyway."

"Are my books in there, too?"

"No." I glance warily towards the study. "Are you sure we can't tell anyone about our baby?"

"Why? I thought we agreed."

"Yeah, but that was before I started this mess." I sigh. "It would be nice to have help. Trevor's, for instance."

"I can help."

"You're pregnant."


"Should you be lifting boxes?"

"It's not like they're that heavy. You brought them out here, didn't you?" You smirk at the dirty look I gave you. "Like the doctor said."

"I know, I know. We don't have to change our routine until later. So how was the gym?"

"Fine. I'm gonna go take a shower, and then I'll help you box up my books."

"Do you want me to join you?"

"I'm only six weeks pregnant, I can reach places," you tease…

1670 Sick

For the last week, I've spent all morning, most of the afternoon, and some of the night lying on the bathroom floor wishing for God to kill me. Three months of this? There's no way I'll make it.

In the pregnancy books, it didn't sound that bad. Something I could live with. I mean, what are the chances of it being that bad, right? The book described a "heightened sensitivity to smell." They've got to be kidding. I can smell a cup of coffee four rooms away, and it makes my whole body go woozy.

And here I am, in the precinct, slumped against a bathroom stall I hear Elliot banging on the bathroom door. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Liv?" He asks.

"I'm fine Elliot." I say, as I heave again, losing only stomach acid because it's all that's left in my stomach.

Jesus Christ.

"Liv, you should go home." He yells.

"I'll be fine," I yell back at him.

"You've been in there all day."

Don't remind me, I want to yell as I let my back slide down the wall of the small stall in the bathroom. I thought it was called morning sickness. It's four in the afternoon for Christ's sake.

"Liv, come on, you need to go home. You're sick."

"I'll be fine." I mumble.

"Fine," He yells as I hear him stomp away. It seems like only seconds, but in reality it's probably closer to twenty minutes until I hear the knock on the door.

"Leave me the fuck alone, El. I'm fine." I scream at him.


"Alex?" I ask.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I mumble, as I stand up weakly and unlock the door, letting you in...


"Do I look like I'm okay?" You whine.

"I'm sorry, Sweetie," I sigh, wiping your face with a wet paper towel. "Elliot's worried."

"He should mind his own damn business."

"Maybe we should tell him."

"Why? So he can hover over me even more?"

"No, so he won't call me every time you rush into the bathroom for the next three months." I sigh again. "I'm serious. He must've left a dozen messages telling me how sick you are."

"I wish he'd just leave me the fuck alone."

"I know." I pull your head towards my shoulder, and rub your neck. "So how are you feeling?"

"Tell me why we're doing this?"

"Because we want a baby?"

"Why aren't you getting sick?"

I chuckle. "Can you imagine? Both of us hurling our guts out?"

"It'd be fair."

"I'm so sorry," I soothe, kissing you gently. "I wish I could make you feel better…"

You sniff. Then abruptly, you pull back. "What are you wearing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Perfume. What perfume are you wearing?" You ask, suddenly looking green.

"The same kind I always wear?" I reach to touch your face. "Are you okay?"

"Jesus." You gag.

"I'm sorry baby, I'll go out there and wash it off."

"Well, can you hurry?" You ask, then turn towards the toilet. "Oh, god."

Oh, hell.

1672 Whine

I'm whining. I know I'm whining, and somewhere inside of me, I feel bad about it. But right now, right in this moment, I'm so miserable I don't really care that I'm being obnoxious.

You're sweet, you really are. And you really are trying. Rubbing my face with a cold towel, you let me lean against you, while you carefully push sweaty strands of my hair off my face. You kiss me sweetly while I snap at you. And then your perfume hits my nose, and my stomach lurches, and I feel the bile rising in my throat again. I push you back, and you mutter an apology while you back out of the room, but it's too late, because I'm already hunched over the toilet spitting and moaning.

You step out and come back within seconds, "I washed it off," you tell me.

"Just…stay over there." I breathe.


"Because I'll smell it. I can't puke anymore, Alex." I whimper, feeling tears in my eyes. I would feel silly, if I didn't feel so horrid.

"Baby," you whisper trying to cross the room.

"Stay away from me," I moan. "Please, just stay over there."

"I'll get you some crackers," you say quietly, turning. I can see the hurt in your eyes, but I feel so weak, so bad.

"No, no, I don't want any crackers." I mumble, trying to take deep breaths to calm myself.

"But it'll settle…"

"Nothing is going to make me feel better Alex. I'm going to die here." I say, breaking out into full out tears.

"Livvy," you whimper.

"No, no, I've managed to make it this far. I've been shot at. I'm going to die here, on the bathroom floor in this hell hole."

"I promise you're not going to die."

"Wanna bet?" I say, rubbing my eyes with the backs of my hands.

"Have you kept anything down today?" You ask, and I shoot you an evil glare. "Sorry," you whisper. "Let me take you home baby," you ask.

"I won't make it."

"I'll get you a bag or something," you say, still trying to cross over to me.

"I have work to do." I complain. "Please."

"You're not going to get it done like this," you tell me.

"I have to," I moan. "Just go to my desk and bring the case files in here." I say… "Please?"


I know it's just mood swings.

I know you don't mean to be so snappish.

I would be too, if I were puking my guts out. All things considered, maybe you're not handling this so badly.

Half way towards your desk, my cell phone rings, and I see that it's you. "Yes, Baby?"

"Can we go home?" You whine.

Finally, you've come to your senses.

"I don't wanna die here."

"Sweetie, you're not going to." I manage to keep my sigh to myself. "I'll go talk to Don. Then I'll come back and get you, okay?"

"Hurry up."

"I will. I'll be right back. I promise." After putting away the phone, I quicken my pace.

If you weren't feeling so miserable, and if your whininess weren't so constant, it'd actually be cute. It's not often you let your guards down like this.

Quickly nodding my hellos, and waving off Elliot's concerned looks, I march towards the other side of the room. My phone rings again just before I was about to knock on the captain's door.

"Yes, Livvy?"

"Don't forget my files."

"You're not going to work when you get home."

"I am. I have to."

"Okay, sweetie, don't cry." I coax. "I'll grab your files."

"Hurry." You sniff.

"I will."

How many more months of this do we have?

1674 Misery

I moan out loud. My whole body hurts. Your face twists, and you frown at me. "Drink this," you demand.

"I can't, Alex." I whine, as you hold out the water to me.

"You need to keep hydrated." You say, still holding the water out to me.

"It'd be easier if you just pour it in there," I say, gesturing to the toilet.

"Liv, you need to drink this or we're going to the hospital."

"I'm okay," I whine, taking the water from your hand but not drinking it, just holding it in my hand.

"You're not okay." You whisper. "I'm calling the doctor." You decide as you stand up and turn from me.

"Alex, don't. I'll be fine."

"No, Liv, you can't keep anything down. This isn't healthy. You have two to think about." You say, but your resolve weakens and you stay standing staring at me.

"I know," I cry. "I'm already a failure." I feel the warm wet tears streaming down my face.

"Baby, you're not a failure."

"Yes, I am." I cry not even bothering to wipe the tears away.

"You're not a failure, sweetie." You say, getting on your knees in front of me, and taking me into your arms.

"I am not doing a very good job of this," I sob. "And I'm being horrible to you. You're going to leave me and…"

"Come on, Liv, stop crying, you're going to make yourself sick." You whisper, as you rub my head.

"I can't be sicker." I cry.

"Baby," you whisper. "You know how much I love you. I'm right here with you."

"I know."

"But I really think we need to get some help."

"I don't want to go to the hospital." I cry harder. "Please don't make me."

1675 COAX

"Come on, Sweetie," I say, trying to get you to drink your water.

"I don't wanna. It's not like it's going to stay down."

"Seriously, I think I should at least call the doctor."

"Why?" You whine.

"There's got to be something she can give you that'll help with your nausea."

"Assuming I can even keep that down."

"Sweetie," I plead with you, wishing there were something we could do.

"Just let me die here."

"Stop saying that. You're not going to die." I resolve to call the doctor, with or without your blessing. "Just drink your water, and I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"To make a phone call?"

"To whom? I'm not going to the hospital."

"I'm just going to call the doctor, to make sure what you're experiencing is normal."


"Maybe she'll call in something for you, and I'll just pick it up."

"You're not leaving me here to die alone…"

"Baby." I walk back to you, and cuddle you to me. "Please be reasonable."

"It's all your fault. You wanted me knocked up."

"You don't mean that?" I know you don't, but I couldn't help but ask.

You just sob harder.

"I'm sorry," I can only say and hope for your current mood to pass…

1676 Swinging

I sip the water you gave me, and just like I said, within minutes, I'm leaning over the toilet throwing up the measly few sips.

"I'm calling the doctor." You say, resolutely standing up.

"Don't leave me," I cry.

"Then just let me grab the phone. I'll call her from in here, but I'm worried about you."

You turn and before I can protest, you come back with the phone already on your ear. You shake your head and describe my symptoms, answering questions I can only imagine with short yes and no responses. When you hang up, you look at me sympathetically.

"What'd she say," I moan.

You slide yourself onto the floor next to me. "She says it's normal for women in their first trimester to get sick like this."

"How can this be normal?" I moan.

"I know baby," you say, as I crawl over to you and put myself in your arms.

"That's easy for you to say." I snap at you, while the tears continue to roll down my face.

You ignore me, but continue on with her advice. "She also says that you need to keep drinking."

"Allie, I can't."

"You need to try." You say, resolutely, looking at the glass that I've managed to sit on the floor next to me.

"You don't understand." I cry. "I am trying."

"Baby, you need to be hydrated."

"You just want me to be sick," I moan.

"Olivia." You say, sternly. "You're being ridiculous."

"Why are you being so mean to me?" I whimper.

You ignore me again. "She says if you're not keeping anything down by tomorrow morning we have to go in and see her."

1677 GREEN

I hold you close to me, and gently stroke your stomach and chest when the gagging starts again. This time, you manage to keep the water down. Thank god.

This reminds me of our trip to the island, and your food poisoning. It's strange to be taking care of you while you usually take care of me. It's a good strange though, I decide, as I place a kiss on your head, and run my fingers through your hair.

I guess we take care of each other…

"Allie?" You tap me lightly on my arm.

"Huh? Oh, sorry, Liv." I jerk against the tiled wall. "Didn't mean to fall asleep."

"I'm hungry. Famished."

"Think you could keep anything down?"

For an answer, you stand up, reach down, and pull me to my feet. Despite my body's protest, I follow you into the kitchen…

"What are you doing?" I watch as you pull things out of the refrigerator.


"For what?"

"Food," you grunt into cabinet where we keep our cereal.

"What kind of food?"

"I don't know. Everything looks good," you say, and start to take bites out of all the different containers.

"Baby, maybe you should slow down." I manage, while I try to be attentive but not imagine how tuna would taste with peanut butter and orange juice in my mouth.

"You think Sajid's open?"

"I don't see why not." I glance down at my watch which reads one twenty two.

You give me a beaming smile. "Then let's go," you announce, before shoving a spoonful of egg salad, then blueberry jelly into your mouth, followed by another big gulp of orange juice.

The next thing I know, we're leaving a disaster of a kitchen and hurrying into the car.

I can only imagine what you might get from a twenty-four hour bodega…

I think I'm going to be sick.

1678 Craving

You take forever walking up the stairs, your hands full of all the stuff we bought, since you're determined that I'm not carrying anything. I follow you, slowly, sticking my hands into the bags, while you beg me not to.

With the impatience of a child, I open the door to our apartment and make you drop the bags for me. Then I sit cross legged on the couch while you open the contents in front of me.

"You're not eating this all right now? Are you?" You ask, as I start opening containers and piling things together, while you sit back in the chair looking like you just ran a marathon.

"Of course not." I smile at you. "We're going to save some of it for later. And well, you're going to eat some, right?"

"Err, I'm not sure." You say, surveying the things spread in front of me.

"Want some?" I ask, outstretching a giant jar of dill pickles to you.

"No, thank you." You smile politely.

"What's wrong?" I ask you.

"Nothing. I just can't believe…" You let your voice die out.

"What are you trying to imply?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's too early for me to have food cravings, baby. That's later."

"Oh." You say, watching as I assemble a pile on top of a plate.

"What?" I ask, as I pull off pieces and stick them into my mouth.

"Nothing, baby."

"No, you're looking at me funny." I insist.

"Do you see what you're eating?"

I look down at the plate in front of me. "Yeah?"

"And that looks good to you?"

"Yeah," I say again, entirely perplexed.

"I hate to break this to you, sweetheart, but you're having food cravings."

1679 EARLY

"But it's too early for cravings," you insist.

"Okay." I sigh. It is a little early, according to the books. But maybe that's just a time table for average women, and you're anything but average…

"What?" You demand.

"Nothing. It's just…" I smile helplessly. "If this is not food cravings, I can't wait for it to start."

"You don't have to be rude," you complain, around a mouthful of something I don't want to contemplate.

In fact, I close my eyes and try to avoid watching you eat all together…

"Wake up!" You yelp, shaking me.

"Oh. Sorry. I don't mean to fall asleep."

"That's okay." You smile a cheesy smile. "I'm through eating."

"Good. Now can we go to bed?"

"I was hoping…" You whisper, nuzzling my ear.

"Liv, baby," I say, resisting a yawn. "Do you know what time it is? We have work tomorrow."

"But don't you want me?"

"It's not that. I'm exhausted."

"I knew it."


"You weren't too exhausted flirting with Apu."


"Sajid. You were flirting with him," you accuse. "I knew it. You're already tired of dealing with me, and my food cravings disgust you."


"Don't even try to deny it! I saw the look on your face. You're going to leave me for Apu…"

This is so totally out of character for you, if I weren't stuck in the middle of it, it might actually be comical. Instead, I kiss the tears rolling down your cheeks. "I love you, Sweetie. I'm not leaving you for anyone…"

1680 Working

In the bathroom at work, I quickly rinse out my mouth and try to not look as bad as I feel. Elliot's entirely frustrated with me. I slink out of the bathroom and back to my desk, trying to pretend I didn't just bolt away.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"My stomach hurts." I shrug. "I think I ate something bad." I say, staring into a file on my desk.

"Every day this week?"

"I don't know, El, I have some kind of stomach thing. What do you want me to do about it?" I ask, as I flip the file open, and try to ignore the stench of Elliot's lunch which is making my stomach do flips.

"I wish you'd go home and take care of yourself." He says, taking a huge bite out of the fleshy sandwich.

I can feel the bile rising in my throat, but I swallow hard and beg my body to stay under control. "I'll take that under advisement," I say.

"I could just call Alex again." He says, still chewing.

"She's not my mom, Elliot." I say.

"She acts with more common sense than you do sometimes."

"I'm fine." I gripe at him. "Can you go eat that somewhere else?" I ask, feeling my stomach fighting with me more.


"Because you're disgusting." I mumble at him.


"Never mind," I say, picking up the files littered around me. "I'll go."

"But Liv," he says, but before he can finish, I drop the files. I'm going to lose my battle to keep what little lunch I'd managed to choke down.

"One second," I say, as I turn away.

"Liv," he calls after me, as I turn away from him and try not to directly sprint down the hallway to the bathroom.


"Alex, wait up!"

I follow the voice, and turn. "Hi, Elliot."

"Oh, wow."

"Yes, Detective?"

"You look like shit."

"Thank you."

"No, I'm serious. You look like you haven't slept for days."

"Yeah, I haven't been sleeping too well," I admit. It was an understatement. Between your puking, mid-night runs for strange food, and out of whack hormones, I'm surprise I'm still functioning.

"Olivia keeping you up?"

"Uh, yeah."

"She's been sick a lot lately, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, I think she ate something bad."

"For the whole week?"

"It's working out of her system slowly. You know, sometimes it takes a while. Or at least that's what the doctor said." I say, hoping he doesn't see that I'm lying through my teeth.

"Oh, so she went to see the doctor?"

"Well, no, I called on the second day. She asked a bunch of questions and in the end, didn't seem too concerned."


"As long as Olivia could keep hydrated, I guess."

He looks at me, as if he's trying to gauge my truthfulness. "You know if I didn't know better, I'd say…" He trails off.

It's a good thing I have a good poker face. "Yes, Elliot?" I ask.

"Oh, never mind." He decides, and moves on to the Booker case.

I let out a silent sigh of relief…

1682 Urging

"I saw Elliot today," you say casually.

"So did I," I whine, as you drive us home. I'm still not feeling so great, and you smile over at me, taking my hand in yours and squeezing it.

"He's really worried about you."

"I know." I say. "I don't know why he's so interested."

"He cares about you."

"In his way." I sigh.

"Don't you think it might be nice to explain what's going on with you?"

"I told him I ate something bad."

"So did I, but Liv, he's a detective, he's going to figure out eventually that it's not food poisoning."

"Do we have to talk about this?" I ask you.

"I think we do, Liv. We didn't think that this was going to be so hard on you. And it might be nice to have someone you work with who can watch out for you a little."

"So what, are you saying I can't do my job?"

"No, baby, I'm not."

"It sounds like that to me," I say, grumpily. "I'm pregnant, I'm not incapacitated."

"But baby, you have to take care of yourself."

"I am taking care of myself. But I can do that and be who I am at the same time. And we agreed anyway."

"But Liv, we agreed before we knew."

"You agreed. I don't want anyone to know yet, Alex. I want to make sure that everything goes okay first."

"What's going to go wrong?" You ask.

"I just… I'm just not ready to tell anyone. I really need you to respect that."


"Have a seat. What can I do for you, Alex?"

I shift in my chair, trying to get comfortable. It's futile, I'm sure, since I'm not proud of what I'm about to do. "Don," I start. "I'm not sure it's really my business. It is, I mean, but I'm not sure I should get involved."

"What are you talking about, counselor?"

"If one of your crew is not performing up to par, even though it doesn't affect anyone else, and it's not something they can control, you'd still want to know, right?"

"Why? Is one of the new people not following evidentiary procedures?"

For a brief moment, I wonder if he was being sarcastic. Then I realize he wasn't. That what he asked was a legitimate question. "No."

"Then why don't you just cut the double talk and tell me what's bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering," I start defensively, then I thought better. "Maybe I shouldn't get involved."

"Alex," he says, closing his opened file, and leaning forward. "Is this about Olivia?"

"I didn't say that."

He looks at me long and hard. "You don't have to."

"She'll hate me if she knew I came to you."

"She wouldn't know, at least not from me. Besides, Elliot's already beat you to it."

"He did?"

"Yes. He said she's been spending most of her time in the bathroom, sick to her stomach and she refused to go home, or see a doctor."

"Well, you know how she is." I laugh. "Always the tough cop."

"But you think this is affecting her job?"

"Well, no, not exactly. At least not yet. Actually, I was hoping you'll keep an eye on her. I know you won't hover or over react like Elliot would."

"So how far along is she? Congratulations, by the way."


"Does she think Elliot's stupid? Or do you, too? The man's lived through three pregnancies. He can tell the difference between food poisoning and morning sickness."

"Then why didn't he say something?"

"Two words: self preservation. She's liable to take his head off. In fact, everyone's been giving her a wide berth."

"That bad, huh." I smile. In a twisted way, I'm glad you're not being snappish with just me. "So you won't tell her I talked to you?"

"Sure. You were here to tell me the good news about the Brockman case. Great job, counselor."

"Thanks, Don," I say, and sigh another sigh of relief…

1684 Confrontation

I storm into your office like I'm going to a raid. Slamming your door open, and scanning the room, I look for you, and angrily walk over to your desk.

"What did you say to him?" I demand.

"What are you talking about?" You ask, as you look up startled to see me standing in your office at all, let alone as angry as I am.

"I know you went in and talked to the Capitan." I say. Snuck in, is more like it. Snuck in and didn't tell me. "You went in behind my back." I demand.

"We were talking about the Brockman case." You say, defensively, standing up and crossing your arms across your chest.

"Yeah, sure you were."

"We were, Liv. What's wrong?"

"He sent me home this afternoon. Told me to take it easy with a goofy smile."

"Well he knows you've been sick, baby. Everyone in your office knows you've been sick."

"And he's putting me at a desk."


"That's exactly what you asked for, isn't it?" I demand, feeling angry tears threatening my eyes.

"Liv, I didn't…"

"But you told him, didn't you?"

"He knows, Liv, but not because I told him."

"Then how'd he find out?"

"Sweetie, you have morning sickness. And you work with a man who has more than one kid and has survived more than one pregnancy."

"So wait, now I'm something you have to survive?"

"No, Liv, come on," you say, carefully walking around the desk. "Come on, sweetie," you plead with me. "Don't be upset."

I laugh at you. "I'm losing everything, Alex. I'm losing everything and you don't want me to be upset? It's going to kill me to sit at a desk for nine months."

"But baby, you knew what was…"

"I didn't think it'd be so soon." I whimper, as tears start to flow. "I didn't think it would start now."

1685 WORRY

"Maybe we should go talk to him." I coax. Selfishly, I'm not sure having you behind the desk is a bad thing. But I'm not sure that's the best thing for you and your mental health. You like to get out there, like to be involved. The last time you had to stay out of the fray you were completely miserable.

"What's the use?" You sob.

"Maybe he'll check his mind? Especially if we get the 'o.k.' from the doctor…"

"I'm not going to see her!"

"Sweetie, please, calm down."

You raise your head to glare at me, then lean into my shoulder again.

"It's not good for you or the baby, for you to get so upset."

"That's easy for you to say!"


Once more, you sob, "It's all your damn fault. If it weren't for you, the Captain…"

"I swear, Liv, I didn't ask him to put you behind the desk."

"What am I gonna do, Allie?" You whine. "I'll just, I'll just puke my guts out and wither and die."

"Shh… Let's see if there's anything the doctor can do."


"Why are you so adamantly against going to see her?"

"Because," you mutter against my neck.

"Because?" I rub soothing circles across your back.



"I'm scared, Alex."


1686 Scared

"I'm afraid that there's something wrong."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because it's my body," I sob, as thought that makes all the sense in the world.

You look at me with confusion in your eyes, and then squeeze me tight. "There's nothing wrong with you, sweetie. Lots of women have morning sickness." You say reassuringly, wiping stray hairs from my face and tears from my cheeks.

"I know, Alex, but what if there is. What if they tell us that there's something horrible…"

"Liv, why are you determined to make yourself more upset?"

"I'm not, Alex. I'm just scared. I spend all day on my knees and all night eating god knows what. It just can't be normal. And if I go into the doctor, they're going to tell me… they're going to tell us that there is something horribly wrong…"

"It's okay to be scared, Liv. But eventually you're going to have to go in. I mean, eventually you'll give birth."

"I know," I half smile.

"That's my girl," you say, hugging me tight and kissing my nose. "Liv, I didn't talk to Don to ask him to move you."

"I guess I know that. I mean, I can't say it's really say that I'm surprised. I kind of saw it coming."

"Why do you say that?" You ask me.

"Because, Allie, I can't do what I'm supposed to be doing. I mean, I know that. Even if I really don't want to admit it. It's really hard to go out to a scene and have to find somewhere to throw up that doesn't interfere with evidence patterns."

You smile at me, "I know sweetie."

"And there's only so far that Elliot's patience can extend. He refused to bring me case files in the bathroom either."

"I'm kind of glad for that, baby."

"I'm not," I frown. "Something tells me this is going to be a really long nine months."


As suddenly as your morning sickness started, it slacked. At least you're now only having morning sicknesses, and not morning, midmorning, afternoon, and every fifteen minutes in between.

Your weird food cravings still continues, but at least we now have most of everything you could possibly want in the apartment and we don't have to get out in the middle of the night anymore.

Your hormones are still out of whack, and your mood swings are quickly becoming legendary, but considering how it had been, this isn't so bad.

Maybe the next seven and a half months won't be as bad as we'd imagined. At least I hope that's the case/

You seem to have adjusted to your desk duty. Maybe because you have done it before, and this time you realize you really have no choice. That you have more than yourself to think about now.

So maybe we can finally get back on track with the other necessary things...

"Hey, Liv?"

"Yes, Sweetie?"

"How do you feel about me working on the nursery again?"

"I guess it's okay." You shrug. "I told you it's your department."

"I know. But I want to make sure."

"Yeah, I'm fine with it. Have you decided on the color?"

"I thought we'd go with something soothing, like a light mint. We could always stimulate the mind with other things, like toys, or even better, books on tapes."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever."

"But we have a problem."

Now you're in full attention. "Yeah?"

"We have to paint the room."


"Paint fumes? You shouldn't be around it."

"We could keep that door closed."

"I think I have a better idea."

You look at me, and wait for me to continue.

"How do you feel about staying at a hotel for a week or so? It could be another mini vacation, sort of."

1688 Promises

"A hotel?" I ask you, carefully. I'm not sure that sounds like such a great idea. Besides, I'd much rather be here, here with you.

"Sure, I mean, it'd really be because of the paint, but it'd sort of be nice to have one last fling, just the two of us."

"Before I'm fat?" I ask.

"No, baby," you say, quickly.


"I just want to spend time with you."

"You spend time with me every day."

"It'd be fun." You say, coming over and leaning yourself against the side of the desk I'm sitting at. "You and me… alone. With nothing to worry about except each other."

"Are you sure?" I ask you.

"Of course, why wouldn't I want to spend time with you?"

"Because I'm miserable to be around?"

"Sweetie," you hug me. "You're not miserable to be around."

"Yeah, right. I don't like being like this, Alex."

"Like what?" You ask me.

"So moody. I know I'm not fair to you. I'm not fair to anyone." I say, feeling my lips trembling.

"That's part of being pregnant." You smile at me, and squeeze my shoulders.

"But I should be better at controlling it," I frown.

"It's a small price to pay to know that you're going to have my baby," you smile, straddling me in the chair, and giving me a kiss on my nose.

"That's sweet." I smile. "You really want to do this?" I ask.

"I would love to. It'll be exciting." You say with a slow smile. "I promise."




"Come here!" You demand.

"Hold on a sec!" I yell back. "I'm almost done!" I say, as I shove the last items of our clothing into the bag.

"Allie!" You whine.

"What, Sweetie?"

"Come here!"

"I'm almost done!" I repeat, trying desperately to zip the bag up. Finally, I stop and take a deep breath and slow down. When I try again, the zipper closes easily this time.

"What's the hold up?"

"Sorry, Baby." I drop our overnight bags on the floor, and smile. "My shirt kept getting caught in the zipper," I explain.

"You forgot to pack this," you say, holding up a jar.

"No, I didn't. I mean, I packed your other one. It's already in the car."

"But what if I ate all of that?"

"We'll go buy more?"

"What if we can't find more?"

"Then I'll come back here and get it? We're not going out of town, Baby. We're not even leaving the city."

"I know, but," you stare at the containers of food on the counter, suddenly looking more miserable than petulant.

Crossing the living room quickly, I gather you into my arms. "Stop worrying over everything, Liv. We're going to have a nice time, and I promise, you'll have everything you need. I'll make sure." One way or another, even if it kills me…

"Are you sure?" You sniff.

"Yes, Liv, I'm sure. Don't worry."

"I mean are you sure you want to spend a week stuck in the hotel with me?"

"Yes, Sweetie."

"You can always stay here, and I'll go there…"

What? So now you want to exile yourself? "Don't be silly." I reach up to kiss your forehead. "We'll have fun. And if you're ready, we can go…"

1690 Reflections

I look out the window overlooking the city, while you stand behind me, your chin on my shoulder, your arms wrapped around me. The sun is setting, mixing a pallet of pinks and purples across the evening sky.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" You ask me, with a sigh and a squeeze.

"Yeah, in a needs to be washed kind of way. I guess if dirt and filth are your thing," I say, letting my sentence die out.

"How can you not think that the skyline this time of night is beautiful?" You ask me indignantly.

"I'm just teasing you," I smile and turn, walking away from the window, stretching my arms over my head and cracking my back.

"It's not that bad," you say, still looking out the window.

"Whatever you say, darling." I stretch out on the bed in front of you.

"You tired?" You ask me quickly.

"A little."

"You could take a nap."

"Thanks?" I say, with a sigh. "I'm okay, come lie with me?" I ask you.

You walk across the room and lie on the bed. You hand absently rubs my belly.

I smile and still your hand. "I can almost feel it," you say quietly.

"I think that might be your imagination, sweetie. My belly's still flat."

"You should be showing soon." You smile at me.

"Great, something to look forward to," I say rolling my eyes.

"You're going to be so beautiful pregnant. I mean, you're beautiful now, but when I can feel our baby kick, or…"

I just smile at you, feeling goofy. "It's going to be strange. To feel that inside me."

"It's beautiful," you smile, leaning in and kissing my neck. "It's the best gift anyone's ever given to me, and I love you for this, Liv. More every day."

1691 OH BOY

"So you love me because I'm giving you a baby?"

What? Huh? Suddenly, your smile is replaced by a frown, and I'm staring into tears welling up in your eyes. "That's not what I said."

"Sure it was."

"Liv, sweetie, I love you more everyday not just because you're giving me a baby."

"But it is partly because."

"Well, it is, partly, I suppose. But just a small part. I love you more. I thought we've discussed this already? When we were trying to get pregnant?"

"I know, Allie," you sob, wiping your face angrily with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry. I should've seen that coming."

"Seen what coming?" I'm almost afraid to ask.

"I wish I knew how to control this."

I wish you did, too. But damn if I were to tell you that. "I know, Liv."

"I'm pathetic."

"Oh, Baby, you're not. You're just pregnant. It's okay."

You sigh and start to turn around.

I pull you back and into my arms. "C'mere."


"I thought you wanted to rest?"

"I do."

"Then let's just close our eyes," I suggest, rearranging our bodies so that we lie protected in each other arms…

1692 Safe

My eyelids are still heavy when I wake up, your arms draped over mine holding me tight into you.

"Alex?" I whimper.

"Shhh…" you whisper.

You're awake. I smile to myself. I love the feeling of your protecting me, watching over me. It's not something that I ever thought I would let myself feel. Usually, for us, this has been the other way around. Me holding you and protecting you. I guess it does feel good, sometimes, to be protected.

I turn over in your arms and smile at you. "You're awake," I whisper, with a smile. I push strands of hair back from your face, while you do the same to me.

"Yep," You smile, kissing my nose.

"How long have you been up?" I ask you, with a shy smile.

"A while."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I ask.

"Because you were asleep."

"But, I didn't mean…"

"You were tired, baby." You whisper. "I'm glad you got some sleep."

"I did," I laugh. "What about you?"

"A little."

"Thanks, Alex." I say.

"For what?" You laugh.

"For loving me. For being with me."

"I love you." You smile.

"I love you, too." I smile back. "We're cheesy."

"Yes we are."

"It's kind of sweet." I laugh.

"Yes it is," you say kissing me gently.


"So? How does it look?" You ask as I climb into the car.

"They did a good job. The designs were nice, cute but not too smarmy." I put on my seat belt, and kiss you on the nose. "I think you'll like it."

"I can't wait to see it."

"You can, in five days." I smile and turn the ignition.

"Have you picked the furniture?"

After I pull out of our garage, I sit back and settle into the traffic. "I'm still trying to decide."


"Would you like to help?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"We can go through the catalogues together."

"I don't know, Allie."

"Come on, at least you can help me make up my mind," I encourage, excited that you're having second thoughts about not getting involved.

"I guess. It'll be fun." You smile shyly.

Sliding my hand over yours, I give your fingers a light squeeze. "It will."

At the next red light, I lean over and kiss you on the cheek. "Is there anything you need before we go back to the hotel?"


"Or would you like to go somewhere?"


"Wherever you want to go?"

"I don't know…"

"A show? Drive to the shore since the weather is still nice? Play tourists? We have all day."

"What do you want to do?"

"Whatever you want to do. It doesn't matter." I smile at you and add impulsively. "I'm with you."

That unguarded statement earns me a brilliant smile. "You're a sap," you tease.

"Yep. Or at least turning into one." I admit. "So where would you like to go?"

1694 Grumpy

"I don't know, Alex." I more whine than anything else. "Why do I have to decide?"

"You don't have to, I just thought you might like to do something today."

"I don't know," I sigh.

You look out the window for a second, your fingers tapping impatiently on the steering column like you're trying to keep your temper in check. "Then we won't go anywhere."

"I'm sorry," I say immediately.


"I'm just tired. Alex. I kind of want to… well, sleep."

"That's fine," you say with a touch of disappointment in your voice.

"It's not that I don't want to…"

"I understand." You say.

"Now I feel bad," I sigh.

"Liv, sweetie, you don't have to feel bad."

"Tell that to my hormones. I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry I'm so… indecisive. And whiny. It must drive you crazy."

"I love you," you say, turning your head slightly so I can see your eyes glisten.

"I'm really lucky, you know that?"

"That's how I feel every day."

"Even when I snap at you for no good reason?" I ask with a half smile.

"Especially then. Besides, it's given Elliot and I something to talk about."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, he stood by Kathy for her pregnancies, and now he's giving me pointers."

"You're taking relationship advice from Elliot?"

"It sounds like a bad idea when you say it," you giggle.

"It's a bad idea in any language," I laugh.


Slowly, softly, I kiss up your body, stopping at your stomach. My lips circle your navel, blowing kisses across your skin.

"That tickles." You giggle and squirm.

I press another kiss to your skin, and gently lay my head down on you. "I love you," I whisper.

"I love you, too," you whisper back, running your fingers smoothly through my hair.

With a bubbling laugh, I raise up, and place an exaggerated kiss over your womb. "And I love you!"

"You're silly."

"But I do love her, or him."

"I'm sure she or he loves you, too," you say. "If it weren't still just a pea."

"It's got to be bigger than a pea!"

"All right, a quail egg. And I don't think quail eggs are capable of cognitive thoughts."

"Oh, hush!" I slap you playfully on your thigh. "Besides, you never know."

You laugh, and pull on my shoulders.

"Hold on a sec," I say, and grab a pillow. Before you can protest, I folded it under my head.

"What are you doing?"

"Just imagining." I sigh happily. "What it'd be like, in a few months."

You push my hair away from my face, and smile.

I love you, I love you both, so much.

"C'mere," you say, after a few silent moments, pulling the pillow away.

Slowly, I push myself up along your body, luxuriating in the feel of our skin on skin. Finally, we're nose to nose, and I kiss you on your lips. "Hi."

"Hi." You smile.

"So what do you want?"

Your smile grows as you lean into me, pressing your weight down on me.

And I close my eyes to your touch…

1696 Claimed

"I want you," I nearly growl at you, surprised by the sudden urgent need that I actually feel to touch you and taste you.

"Do you?" You ask, teasingly, pulling your head away from me, and putting your fingers on my nose with a laugh.

But, baby, I'm not playing.

Instead of answering you, I kiss you, hard, your startled hand wraps into my hair as you accept the kiss. You try to pull your head back and look at me for a second, before leaning in and letting me kiss you again, but this time, your need matches mine.

"I want you." I moan at you again.

I want to claim you. I want to mark you in an entirely animalistic and sexual way. I want to take you.

You try to reach for me, but I stop you. I don't want your touch.

I take your hands and hold them over your head.

"Liv," you ask, me quietly, with a whimper in your voice.

I silence you again with a kiss.

My hand slides quickly up your shirt, roughly pushing your bra off and taking your nipples into my hand. You moan.

I smile.

In seconds, I'm on you, sliding down your body.

By the time I taste you, you're ready for me.

I smile again, this time, while I suck on you, licking you, taking you in. Your body arches hard off the bed, and you start to spasm around fingers that I've slipped inside you.

With a final kiss, I slide back up your body.

Your breath is still catching in your chest.

I smile a cocky smile and lean back into the pillows, watching your face as you recover your breath, and turn a beautiful pink.

You whisper you love me, but that only makes my grin bigger.


It couldn't have taken you more than seconds to undress me. One moment, we were kissing, and the next, I felt like you were going to take me, and swallow me. And you had me crashing around your fingers, coming in deep waves and screaming your name in mere minutes.

What has gotten over you?

"I love you," I whisper, while trying to catch my breath. And I run the tips of my finger along your growing smile.

You look so insufferably smug – you know you've got me.

"Where," I start to ask, and have to clear my voice.

That only makes your smile wider.

"Where did that come from?"

You lift your brow and smirk. "Where did what come from?"

Somehow that makes me blush. "You know what."

"Enlighten me."

"Just now."

"Tell me more."

Why do you like doing this? "When you, you know," I mumble, staring at your lips.

"When I?"

"Jumped me," I finally say.

You laugh. "Did you not enjoy it?"

Reaching down, I swat you on your ass. "You know damn well I did."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I didn't say…" I sigh, and ask with a smile, "Are you trying to be difficult?"

"Nope." You tip my chin up so that our eyes meet. "I just like to see you like this."

"Like how?"


The heat rushing up makes my smile bloom.

"And mine." You add in a firm whisper.

"That, I am…"

1698 Gloating

"I can't help it." I gloat with a bigger smile on my face than probably should fit there.

"Help what?" You ask, with a gentle kiss to my cheek. I can see the scorn in your eyes when you see my smile, and that only makes me smile all the more.

"Every once in awhile, I just like to remind us both that…"

"I'm yours?" You ask with a smile, finishing my sentence for me, while I fold my arm behind my head.

"Why are you smiling?" I ask you, seeing out of the corner of my eye that you have your own smug smile too.

"Because I like that."


"That you claim me sometimes. That I mean, most of the time, we aren't like that. We kind of just, well,"

"Make love," I supply, relieving your embarrassed search for words.

"Right. But every once in awhile you, and I, we, well you…"

"I fuck you senseless?"

"Something like that." You smile demurely, looking down my body rather than into my eyes.

My smile grows. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No, not at all."

"Are you sure?" I ask, with a laugh.


"You're blushing," I smile at you, which makes you turn redder.


"Stop what?" I ask.

"Stop looking at me."

"I'm sorry," I giggle, while continuing to stare. "You're beautiful though."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not. I love you, Alex.

"I know," you smile. "I know."

1699 CALM

Happily, I sigh, and burrow deeper into the crook of your shoulder. I hold my breath when you pull me closer, and wrap your arms around my body.

Slowly, I release my breath.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I whisper, and kiss you on your neck.


I draw my leg up to drape against yours, and settle into your embrace. "There's nothing wrong, not per se."

"Then what?"

"I still like it," I say.

"Like what?"

"This. Me, in your arms. Like this." I admit. "I like it when you're protective."



"I like it when you're protective, too," you say shyly, pressing kisses to my forehead.

"If and when you let me," I remind you.


"I'm glad though, that you're doing that more lately."

"Okay," you say quickly, and capture my lips in another fierce kiss.

When we break apart, I smile. "And I like it when you're… demanding. At least sometimes."

"I know."

"Love you," I whisper and let my eyelids droop.

"Love you, too, baby," you say.

I stretch, molding my body against yours.

Each with a smile of our own, we fall asleep in each other's arms…

1700 Dreaming

In my dream, we lie together, twined in each others arms.

We're semi-floating together in an all white room, lying together, we're warm and safe. It's strange how comfortable I feel, how warm and safe I feel. It surrounded by a comfortable feeling like lying in a soft bed with warm blankets that are tightly wrapped around us, keeping us cocooned together.

You're laying on me, across my chest. Somehow I know that you're and you're whispering to me, telling me that you love me.

My eyes are fluttering closed, but I'm still conscious of what's happening in the all white room.

You're on me, your breath is on my neck while you talk to me. You keep whispering, your breath tickling me. The words are lulling me into a feeling of safety, a feeling like nothing could harm us, not here, not in this moment.

I feel your hands on me, they're sliding up my body, teasing my nipples to taut attention.

I moan.

I smile.

I'm utterly content.

Nothing could stop this moment.

I know that my life will end up okay, as long as you here.

I feel your fingers sliding along my body, and your whisper that you love me.

I love you too…

As your fingers slide inside me, though, I know something's wrong.

It doesn't feel like it's supposed to, and I yelp.

You stop, pulling away from me but the pain doesn't stop. I cross my arms over my stomach and pull myself into a fetal position.

It feels like someone's stabbing me from the inside. The pain makes tears form at my eyes, and that's when I see the red blood flowing out of me. It stains the white room, but the pain doesn't stop.

Now you're yelling at me. Shaking me. My eyes fly open but the pain, the pain doesn't stop.

It's not a dream.

Part 1701

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