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."