***PLEASE READ***Sorry for the rift in updates. There are these two things that WILL be the death of me, and they are called: honors classes, and volleyball every day until five, and games til nine thirty, if we're lucky. (we have to travel with the b-squad and JV and watch their games, too, so...) Just so you know, my fabulous river of inspiration for CSI: New York hasn't dried up yet. Still going strong. I'm just going to struggle to find time to write, so don't be expecting the frequent updates I was able to post during the summer :( by the way, what'd you all think of Jo? I'll miss Stella a ton, but I kinda like Jo. Her dry wit really amuses me. BACK TO THE POINT: This will be the last chapter of Undercover. :O NOOOOOO! Thanks for the support from my readers. I'll see if I can get a sequel up for you all :)

I woke to the sun streaming through the window. I realized with a smile that it was the first time I'd slept through the night without a nightmare. I felt good, and my body felt light as a feather. We both needed that last night, there was no doubt about it. I disentangled my legs from Don's, and turned to face him. His features were dulled with sleep as they always were, but this time a soft smile-barely there- graced his lips.

My movements must've woken him. His eyes slowly opened, looking around. I gave him a quick peck on the lips, which got his attention pretty fast. "Morning," I murmured.

His soft smile grew wider, but he stayed silent as he brushed a lock of hair out of my face, tucking it gently behind my ear. "Morning," Copying my greeting.

I leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. I made no attempt to deepen this kiss, and found myself content with the simple show of affection. I breathed in his scent, and tasted his lips thoroughly before I pulled back, reluctantly. "I have an appointment. Physical then psycho," I laughed weakly at my lame nicknames.

"Need a r-" I wanted to punch him for asking me that, but at that second, his phone rang, the ringtone the same dull jingle that I had often encouraged him to switch.

"How 'bout this one?" A song that reminded me of the Beach Boys echoed from the phone. I even added a few crappy hula dance moves to go along with it.

Don laughed. "No thanks."

"Why not?"

"What would suspects think if they heard that ringtone coming from my phone?"

"I bet they'd think, 'Wow. This detective is one swell guy for having such a neat-o ringtone. I'll give him my full cooperation.'" I said, using my best man voice, and struggling to contain my laughter after saying 'swell' and 'neat-o', which were both words that my dad must've found amazing and loved to use them in every sentence.

"If they're using the words 'swell' and neat-o' then we might have the wrong guy."

"Jump to conclusions much?"

He sat up, carrying on a conversation that would most likely take him away from me for a little while. I propped myself up on my elbow, mesmerized by the way his lips moved. "I'll be there in twenty," Don said before hanging up, and tossing his phone to its original resting place.

"Gotta go?" He nodded wordlessly. I tossed the covers off my body, and set about seeking out some clean clothes. "I'll make the coffee."

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"I think I'm okay," I said as I almost crashed through the door to Dr. Nelson's office. She was sitting in her usual chair opposite the window, writing what must've been a world peace plan seeing as the level of focus she was giving it. She nearly hit the ceiling when I burst in. Her legs that were always crossed over each other uncrossed, and she looked as though she thought she was hallucinating. Did she just speak? Voluntarily?

She took off reading glasses which I'd never noticed before, put on a falsetto smile, and placed a dramatic hand over her heart. "Oh, Jessica. You startled me," she said, even though her tone did not convey the meaning of her words.

Suddenly, she was back to business, replaced the glassed on the edge of her nose, clicked her pen, and gave me an attentive glance. "What do you mean, 'you're okay?'"

My shoulders felt light. Who knew it would be sex that would make everything better. It made me wish we'd done it sooner, but then I knew it wouldn't have been right until that moment. "I feel better. Lighter, you know? It's like suddenly I don't have an invisible weight I didn't even know I had any more." I paused. "That made no sense."

Dr. Nelson gave a small smile. "It makes perfect sense." I leaned back in the chair, feeling comfortable for the first time. "You know I have to ask you if you're over the rape. Witnessing the killing of a close friend. Seeing the fresh body of someone you considered a sister."

I sighed. The slight feeling of agitation began to rise in my gut, but this time I didn't let it take over. I had to confront this if I wanted to get over it. I realized I had been silent for a while. "Just take your time," Dr. Nelson said soothingly.

I saw Amy's lifeless body in the morgue. I had no doubt Andy's was probably in the same room. Their blank eyes. The blood. I took a steady breath, doing the yoga breathing I'd learned from my sister-in-law. It helped a little. I closed my eyes and replayed last night in my head. It almost made me smile that thinking of sex would make everything better. Pretty shallow, but last night was absolutely amazing. The agitation began to subside, but still lurked under the surface.

"I don't know. I mean, I can talk about it and not be absolutely overcome with emotion. It doesn't mean I have to like thinking about it."

"Do you feel as if its your fault?"

That question was tougher. "I don't think so. I mean, I didn't make him do it. But, I... could've fought harder..."

"Jessica, don't. You fought hard. I saw the reports. The man who raped you was a giant, and you put up a good fight."

"I've taken down bigger guys before. But it didn't help, did it?"

She sighed. "Jessica, rape isn't about sexual fulfillment. It's about power. People who want power, and are willing to do anything to get it. You couldn't have done anything to deter him from raping you, or killing your friends. He was power hungry, and that can never be satiated."

Deep down I knew she was right. "I just wish I could go back in time and do something to stop it from happening the way it did."

Dr. Nelson smiled kindly. "I know how you feel. But it's not going to happen."

"I know."

"The best thing that you can do is try to move on." I had a sudden flashback to the night Shay tried to rape me for the first time. Andy and I'd had that long discussion about his wife and unborn baby. It's better to remember them than to dwell on them. It's like an unintentional foreshadowing of my fucked up life.

"How?" I asked in a small voice.

She gave me a patient smile, and it seemed genuine this time. "Time."

I sat in silence for a long minute, mulling her words over in my head. "It wasn't my fault," I whispered, inaudible to Dr. Nelson. I felt a soft breeze blow from behind me from the window, making chills run down my spine It was a warm breeze, but shivers went down my spine, and goosebumps raised themselves on my skin. I could almost feel a glowing from within my stomach. A slow, deep fire that chased away the goosebumps. I could've sworn I heard Amy and Andy's voices in my head, saying: Good for you, Jess. I looked back. The window hadn't been open.

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One Month Later...

I'm back to work now. I sit in the same desk that I used to have. It, unsurprisingly, hadn't been filled yet, what with all the pay freezes and budget cuts. I fell easily back into my old routine, and a sense of normalcy and peace settled in me. My relationship was going well, my job was totally kick ass, and I was happy. For the first time in a long time, I was happy.

I hadn't officially moved in with Don yet. Old habits die hard, and we tried to keep our relationship as quiet as possible. Sure, a few gossiped. Okay, maybe more than a few, but I didn't let that get to me. I spent most of my nights at Don's, and he seemed okay with the idea that occasionally I be on my own in my apartment, now that most of the nightmares ceased. Most, not all. Rarely, I'd get one, but they were hardly as vivid and terrifying as the ones I'd previously experienced. They were often fuzzy, and I barely remembered them when I woke up. They consisted of no feeling, no realism. It was like watching a movie through your own eyes. Every so often, I'd get a terrifying, realistic one, but they were very sporadic. I started to get (almost) a full night's sleep every night, and the dark bags that had hung under my eyes disappeared.

I sat at my desk, eyes cast downward at a file. I let out another yawn. I had lack of explanation for my tiredness. I was mostly on restricted duty, and only seldom went into the field with either Kaile Maka or Don. Today had been as uneventful as most, and I was staring at crime scene photos of a robbery gone bad. Another yawn forced it's way through my mouth. I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arms towards the ceiling. A few kinks cracked in my spine and neck. I moaned quietly at the sensation. I caught Don giving me an amused look. "What?" I asked playfully, smirking.

He tried to look unconcerned. "Oh, nothing. You've just been yawning and stretching for the past two hours." He lowered his voice. "It gets hard to concentrate," he said cheekily, a joking smile on his face.

I rolled my eyes. "Deal with it, pervert."

He laughed, his eyes falling back on his paperwork, and I returned to my own as well. I checked the time. 4:48 read the clock on the wall. I closed my eyes and sighed. Usually around this time I started to feel sick. A deep curl of nausea rose in my stomach. Right on time.

Damn it. I pushed away from my desk, and walked a little faster than necessary to the women's bathrooms. Immediately after locking the stall door behind me, I swept my hair back with my hand, and emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. The bile burned my throat, and my stomach clenched again, trying to rid me of everything I had eaten that day. A few minutes later, I slumped away from the toilet, the acrid contents swirling down into the sewer system. I sat down on the cool tile floor, and I rested a sweaty cheek against the cool metal of the bathroom stall, letting the cold penetrate my face. I took deep breaths, and the nausea, thankfully, began to subside.

Dr. Nelson said that these symptoms could be lingering affects of PTSD, and to just wait them out. When she said that, I felt like shoving her face into a wall, but I knew she was right. Because I didn't have any other explanation. But my mind conjured up one for me: You're pregnant. My eyes opened in shock. I'd never considered pregnancy before. The PTSD explanation had pretty much kept me out of exploring other options. But when I thought about it, pregnancy wasn't too far out there. Of course I took clinical birth control in the form of injections every few months that were 99% effective (said the nurse who gave it to me), but there was always that 1% chance that it wouldn't work.

She'd also told me that certain herbal remedies could negate the effects of the injection. My eyes opened wider. I drank a lot of tea in this job. Sure, it tasted like bits of boiled grass, but it helped with jitters that coffee caused. Maybe there was an herb in there that could've caused something to happen? I mentally went through my menstrual calendar in my head. I wasn't due to have my period for another week, so I wouldn't be able to tell off of that.

Don and I were a trusting enough couple not to use condoms, and then I realized that me being pregnant was a very, very real possibility. And one that scared the shit out of me. "Oh my god," I whispered, not trusting my voice at full volume. "Oh my god," I repeated, my voice slightly louder, over and over. I wasn't ready for a baby. I didn't know the first thing about babies. I was certain of the fact that I'd make a pretty terrible mother. I was all right at taking care of myself, but I could not be trusted with a fragile, tiny human being with limited english skills, and that constantly needed rescue from choking on tiny objects.

I've seen a natural mother before. My sister-in-law, Lana... now that is someone who was born to raise kids. She's a miracle on two legs. Her life is all about her kids: what time Sharon's soccer practice was, when the spring band concert was, what brand of mac and cheese her kids like, Jeremy's favorite places to go on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, whose dentist and doctor appointments are on Tuesday and Thursday, what kinds of kids' toothpastes had been recently recalled, what toys contained lead paint... the list went on.

I can't be like her. I'm hardly organized enough as it is. I didn't want to quit my job. If that happened, I'd have to hire a nanny, and God knows how much that will cost, let alone all the food for the baby, and all those diapers and stuff... My salary was anything but rosy, but it got me through my days, which was enough. But if a baby came on board...

I tried figuring out ways that this would work, but I couldn't. I could get a second job. I could ask for a raise. I could get a loan. I could ask my dad for... In my thinking, I hadn't considered Don at all. My whirling thoughts suddenly screeched to a halt. I didn't want us to be one of those couples who gets married because the girlfriend is pregnant, and ten years in, they get absolutely sick of each other, and go through a nasty divorce, and-

"Angell? Hello in there?" My head snapped up. I realized tears had leaked out of my eyes. I swiped them away with my sleeve, at hearing the voice of First Grade Detective Kaile Maka outside the stall door.

I stood, sniffling quietly, hoping my eyes didn't look too puffy. I might not even be pregnant. I unlocked the door, and faced with all 5"4 inches of Kaile Maka. "Hey, Maka."

She studied me intently, her brown eyes probing my face. "You okay?"

I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Yeah. Why?"

"Sounded like you were trying to regurgitate your lower intestine in there."

"Oh, just, um, PTSD the doctor said."

Kaile gave a knowing nod, "I feel your pain."

We stood in an awkward silence for a moment. I had a feeling Kaile had a sense there was something I wasn't telling her, but I honestly didn't feel like divulging my fears of pregnancy in the middle of the ladies' bathroom. "Well, I better be going," I finally said. I took a step around Kaile, before going to the sinks to rinse the sour taste of vomit out of my mouth. As I washed my hands, I heard Kaile walking out from behind me.

I reached for the hand soap. I heard her pause. "I'm always here if you need a shoulder to lean on, or cry on, or whatever sentimental shit should be said in this situation." Her crass response made me smile.

"Thanks, Kaile." I rarely called her Kaile. I heard her leave the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the silent bathroom. I was frozen, soapy hands in the water. You might be pregnant.

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Later that night, my mind hadn't slowed down. Don and I were watching some baseball game on TV, but I could hardly focus. Not only were my thoughts racing in circles, but my eyelids drooped dangerously low on my eyes. I could hardly focus on singular shapes and colors anymore. Everything swam before my eyes, me powerless to stop it. I was curled up on his lap, a fleece blanket thrown haphazardly over us. His arms were wrapped protectively around me, and one hand occasionally brushing hair away from my face.

I should tell him. Would it even be worth it, especially if it turns out to not be true? What if he leaves me? What if he doesn't want a baby? If he doesn't, how can I cope as a single mom with a full-time job? I have to tell him.

"Don?"

"Jess?" We'd both spoken simultaneously.

"You first," I told him, a smile playing on my lips. Nervousness stewed in my stomach. My stomached clenched and unclenched, and a little fragment of nausea began to rise again. I tried to ignore it.

I looked up at him. His eyes were a mix of emotions- nervousness being primary. He ran a hand through his hair- a nervous habit. I'd learned his nervous tendencies and hadn't forgotten them. He blinked more often. He took lots of deep breaths. He ran his hands through his hair. He'd crack his knuckles. Fiddle with anything in reaching distance. All his motions read one thing: He was nervous. There weren't many times that I could recall seeing him nervous. I could probably count them on one hand. It made me slightly on edge that he was so uptight about whatever he was going to tell me. "Just spit it out."

He took a deep breath, his arms tightening around me. "Jess, I don't really know how to do this. I've never felt this way about someone. I..." He paused. Took another breath. "I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?" He withdrew a black velvet box from his pocket. Within, a silver band that looked almost woven around a tastefully small princess-cut diamond. It glittered in the soft light, and all of my worries about a baby vanished. The voice of the announcer from the game on TV was the only sound beside our breathing. "AJ Burnett with an IRA of 5.33 takes the mound..."

I tore my gaze away from the ring, and looked into his eyes. Gone were his nervous tells. He looked sure of himself as he held the ring in his hand, waiting for me to hopefully say yes. It quelled my butterflies in my stomach somewhat that he was no longer freaked out. He wanted to marry me. That was why he was nervous. It was my turn to tell. I couldn't trap him in an engagement if he didn't want a kid right away. I closed my eyes. Breathed in. I couldn't do that to him. Out. I had to be strong. In. Be sure of myself. Out. Just do it. In. Suck up your feelings and just fucking do it. Out. "I think I might be pregnant."

Bahahahaha! Cruel for me to end there. I'll try to get a sequel up as soon as I can so you wont be left hanging! Thank you to all of my faithful readers and reviewers who helped me through this story, and I hope it lived up to your expectations :) If not... well, then too bad. Even though I said it a while back, yay for Avenged Sevenfold! Warmness on the Soul was the primary song of inspiration recently. Go check it out. Now. Anyway, to all my readers, I love you all more than you'll ever know, and I sincerely thank you. -Serena