Journey - Epilogue

This has been SOOO much fun to write. Thank you for enjoying it with me.
Hopefully I'll be able to share something again in the very near future.

I was going to stop the story with the last post - but DJ wanted to share this part of the story with you, too. So without further ado - I give you The Epilogue....which really isn't an ending but a beginning. The rest is up to your imagination.

 And to think...it all started with a prologue.

    


February 2012

    “Don’t answer it.” DJ muttered without moving, knowing she would anyway.

    Meg rolled away from the warmth of his body and answered the phone, "Rediker.”

    Hearing her use his name, never grew old. Draping an arm around her waist, DJ kissed her shoulder and listened.

    “It’s Spiro. We’ve got a lead on the Dumont robbery. The necklace was pawned. It’s such a nice cheerful day to be out on the street.”

    “Bite me, Spiro. There’s two inches of ice on the roads. Who in their right mind would try to fence jewelry on a day like this?”

    “Don’t know. The owner of the shop called it in. You get to corroborate.”

    Swearing into the pillow, she slammed the phone down, “It’s just no fun anymore.”

    “What?” DJ Muttered, kissing the soft skin between her shoulder blades.

    “Slamming phones. There’s no satisfaction to a ‘beep’.” Meg squirmed away from her husband before he could make her forget that she was a cop. “I have to go out. I should be back in a couple of hours.”

    Tugging on pants she was sure she wore the day before, Meg ran through her mental check list. She slid on the bra gratefully. Weeks of therapy had helped her regain full range of motion. Determination had her continually grateful whenever slipping on the annoying and often binding undergarment. Wearing nothing but pants and her bra she was half-way ready to walk out the door. At least mentally.

    DJ watched with appreciation as his wife stopped in the middle of the room. She inhaled and exhaled slowly. The scars were far from faded and served as constant reminders to him of what might have been. Propping himself up on his elbow, DJ grinned, “You alright, baby?”

    “I’m fine. I just had a twinge of....”

    DJ smirked and watched Meg put her hand to her stomach moments before she dashed to the bathroom. Knowing that laughing would result in pain, DJ swallowed the urge. Tossing back the blanket, he joyfully followed his wife. Holding her hair with one hand he wet a cloth with the other. Third time it had happened, by his calculations. Never in a row but she wasn’t eating normally either.

    The first time it had happened, his wife had shrugged it off as something she’d eaten. The second time, she had wondered if she’d gotten a stomach bug. She never mentioned her lack of appetite but DJ had noticed and had bided his time. 

    “Oh, I simply hate throwing up.” Meg leaned against his shoulder and let him wipe her face with the wash cloth.

    “Well,” He reached over and pulled down on the handle to send her stomach contents far away from them, “I’m not exactly fond of you throwing up, to be honest.”

    Kissing her forehead, DJ got to his feet and poured mouth wash into a small cup. Handing it down to her, he listened to her rinse out her mouth. With a surge of happiness, DJ reached into his drawer and pulled out the white box he's purchased. Purchased with a feeling of glee after the second morning of vomiting. Grinning into her hair, he placed the box in Meg’s hands.

    “A pregnancy test?” Meg laughed, “Seriously, Darcy.”

    “No contraceptive is one-hundred percent and you know it.” DJ settled himself against the cabinet door and snugged her between his flannel covered legs, “Shall we consider the evidence, Detective?” He held out his thumb, “One, you have claimed that you are NEVER sick.”

    Meg opened her mouth to be told, with a finger in her face, “Two, there was a series of robberies right around Christmas. You were very busy with those - you pulled several late nights. Trying, I believe, to save the department from bad press. And while I don’t like watching you stress, being your stress reliever has some definite perks.”

    Her smirk told him that she thought so, too. He continued before she could comment, “Three. Christmas weekend we rarely left our bed. I’m not complaining. Just pointing out the evidence.”

    “Four. At the end of the month, you mentioned that you must have missed days on your pills because you had at least three left. What do you want to bet you missed three in a row?”

    Meg opened her mouth to be shushed again. DJ was on a roll and wasn’t about to be deterred, “Five. You’ve been without an appetite and this is the third time you’ve been vomiting in the morning. It certainly wasn’t food poisoning because I ate the exact same thing you did. I never got sick that day.”

    “Fine.” Meg shifted out of his arms, “I’ll pee on a stick. Just to shut you up.”
   
    DJ brought his knees up and rested his hands on them, “The evidence requires it. Not me.”

    “Leave.” Meg motioned with the pregnancy test, “Go.”

    His smile was brilliant, “I’m not leaving. I’m not giving you an opportunity to tamper with the evidence.”

    Narrowing her eyes, “Fine. But if this is negative, you’re driving me to interview the shop owner.”

    Watching her face, DJ nodded once, “Challenge accepted. However, if it’s positive you call Spiro back and tell him to send someone else. Then you spend the rest of the day in bed with me.”

    “Fine.” Meg opened the box and broke the seal on the pregnancy test. She followed the instructions carefully, as to not tamper with evidence. Meg set the pregnancy test on the floor and they both stared at it. They didn’t have to wait the full three minutes before DJ’s laughter rang through the house.

    “I'm going to be a dad!” On his knees in a moment, he kissed his wife with passion and glee, “And you said you got all the brains in the family.”

    She couldn't help get caught up in his happiness, especially when he lifted her like she was weightless. Meg settled herself back in the bed and reached for the phone.

    When her partner answered, Meg grinned, “I’m not going to be able to make it after all. Send Ericson down to get a statement. I’ll do a follow up if it’s necessary. Tomorrow or the next day.”

    She could all but see Spiro’s eyes narrow and his bushy eyebrows draw together, “I had to drive in his fantastic mess, so do you.”

    “Actually, I can’t. I lost a bet with my husband. You’ll need to send Ericson.”

    Silence on the other end of the phone and Darcy nibbling on her shoulder, Meg clamped her lips down to keep from laughing, “What sort of bet, Detective?”

    “I'm pregnant.”

    “Well, I’ll be.” There was a long pause and a low chuckle filled the phone, “I'm going to be an uncle.” Spiro outright laughed before declaring, “Well. Damn. I’ll send Ericson.”

    Taking the phone from Meg, DJ tossed the unit under the bed. With a grin, he tugged on Meg’s hips until she was flat on the bed and laughing.

    “You’re going to have to go under there and get that, you know.”

    DJ kissed the scar on her stomach, as he did every time he had the chance. This time he kissed her low on her abdomen, where his baby grew, “Later.”

    Meg grinned at the tender kisses on her stomach, “Do you want to know something, Darcy Rediker?”

    Kissing his way up to look in her face, DJ smiled, he couldn’t seem to stop. He was going to be a dad. “Tell me?”

    “You were worth waiting for.”



    © 2011 Amelia Antwiler/ComfyDenim