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It had been four months since Blaine had nearly fainted from the reading on the drug store pregnancy test. She'd gone through no less than three more before an appointment with her OB/GYN confirmed that she was in fact pregnant. She was beginning to show some baby bump, and it was with no small amount of excitement that she and husband Vance returned to the doctor's on a cool, December morning for another sonogram.

"Is that a penis?" Vance nearly came out of his chair in excitement as soon as the grainy, black and white image of the baby came up on the TV screen. Blaine and the doctor laughed.

"Somebody wants a boy!" The doctor said, and continued to move the transducer across Blaine's abdomen while focusing intently on the screen in front of her, "Nope, looks like a little girl to me! Sorry, Mr. Gillis."

He sat back down in his seat, kicking his feet out in front of him as though he were in a recliner. He interlocked his fingers behind his head and beamed at them.

"No matter. I was looking forward to embarrassing a son, but I think I can settle for scaring her prom date." He winked, and Blaine laughed with a snort and rolled her eyes.

"See her moving?" The doctor asked, smiling at Blaine, who covered her mouth with a hand and whimpered through it.

"Oh my God!" She beamed from ear to ear behind her hand, watching her baby move on the television. Vance couldn't help but get a little misty-eyed himself when he reached out to take his wife's hand in his own, caressing the top of it with his thumb.

"All right..." The doctor said, and hit a button on the machine. An unnervingly fast-paced _lubdup-lubdup-lubdup-lubdup_sound filled the room via a speaker system, and a sound wave began tracking across the bottom of the TV screen. "Heart rate is 163 beats per minute, which is right about where we want it to be."

"Why so fast?" Vance asked.

"Well, a smaller heart is going to beat faster, and girls usually have a higher heart rate than boys do. Normal fetal heart rate at this stage of the pregnancy is going to be right around 140 to 160, but it's nothing to be worried about if it's a little over. From here on out though, you should be golden! Everything seems to be developing well, and we'll schedule you for another sonogram in ninety days to make sure everything is staying that way, okay?"

***

"It's a girl! It's a girl!" Vance shouted the moment he entered the shop. Reid looked up, and a customer turned around, both looking somewhat confused before it clicked with the former.

"A girl?"

"A girl!" He repeated, and literally jumped over the front counter, throwing his arms around the cattle dog and nearly squeezing the life out of him, "I'm gonna tell the rest of the guys!" He finished, and let go, bursting through the doors into the bay where he proclaimed his baby's gender loud enough for all of SoCal to hear. Reid turned to the customer.

"Wife's pregnant."

"So I gathered."

Inside the bay, Vance was getting handshakes, bro fists, and hugs from everyone while he showed them pictures and footage of the sonogram on his phone.

"Man, its game over for you, bro!" Hector laughed, punching him in the arm.

"That chapter of my life is over, man. I'm not worried about it. Now my biggest concern is being a good father and a good husband. I've got a good deal going for once in my life, and I intend to keep it that way."

"You're a good man, Vance. I don't care what Reid says about you!"

"That son of a-" The pit bull joked, pounding a fist into his palm and shaking his head.

***

A rifle shot rang out in the woods, the report of the weapon dying out in the hills of rural Wyoming. Birds evacuated from the trees nearby, and Paul watched through his scope as the bullet impacted the target - a coffee can - 680 meters away.

Shooting brought him an odd ease in contrast to how he felt when he was using the very same rifle in Vietnam in the late sixties. Back then, it had had a Redfield Accurange scope, but he'd since replaced it with the more modern Leupold Mk IV. He cranked the bolt handle upward and pulled back, ejecting the spent shell casing and watching it dance across the dirt to his right. Like clockwork, the daily remembrance of his wife's words came back to haunt him.

"It's over, Paul! Just let it go, you're not going to make this any better by trying to get even with them!"

He slipped another round into the breech and slammed the bolt shut over it. Heart quivering but steady as a rock in his hands and fingers, he shouldered the rifle and peered through the ten-power scope. The defiled coffee can lie on its side in the dirt, hundreds of meters away, a filthy-looking exit wound torn through its aluminum hull.

"This never would have happened in the first place if you hadn't hired on that no-good, bad seed of a boy of his! I knew he was bad news, I told you he was! Why didn't you just pay him what you owed? You could have afforded it, and now look what it's cost us."

Paul had come home from the grocery store to find their RV missing, as well as his wife of nearly fifty years. He'd packed up and driven to their hunting cabin in the woods, thinking that was where she had gone, but when he arrived, there was no one but Mother Nature there to greet him.

Breathing slowly and calculatedly, Paul held over a couple mils and squeezed the trigger. The rifle punched him in the shoulder with the recoil, and sent the projectile flying out into the wild blue yonder, its vapor trail visible against the backdrop of the woods on the mountain. The round found its mark, and the coffee can leapt into the air, spinning on its way down, torn nearly in half by the impact.

"I've still got it." He whispered. Paul had killed many a North Vietnamese Army soldier with that rifle from 1969 to 1970 as a Marine Scout Sniper. It wasn't something he spoke of often. It wasn't something many people knew, and if he could help it, he intended to keep it that way for a long, long time.

The meat of a freshly slain feral deer simmered in a pot along with carrots, potatoes, celery, and other groceries he'd picked up in the last week after driving an hour and a half to the nearest store. A fire crackled in the hearth, and Paul sat in front of it, reading the Bible by lamplight - oil lamp light, as it were. He closed it, lay it down on the end table and stood up, hobbling over to the stove where he stirred his stew and tasted it, deeming it edible only after adding a teaspoon of salt. Bedtime would follow dinner, as there was little else to do for entertainment, but true to his faith, Paul would retire to bed only after his daily devotion.

"Father, I ask tonight that You watch over Reid, Vance, and everyone else at Doghouse in the weeks to come. Bless them and give them the strength they need to carry on in these difficult times. I ask that You guide Reid as he reconciles with his daughter. Give him the courage to do what is right and continue to provide for her. Bless Vance and his wife, who is currently with child. I pray that they have a healthy baby and a long lasting marriage. And please Father, again, watch over Terri, wherever she may be. I pray that she is safe, and that we will one day meet again."

Paul sighed, taking a deep breath and swallowing the lump in his throat.

"God, I pray that You will show me guidance at this time in my life. I feel now that I have given everything that I have to give in this world to everyone who deserves it. I served my country with honor and pride. I married. I fathered a son, who was taken from me. I gave my life's work to a young man who now carries on its name. I've done everything I planned to do in life and more, and I have nothing left. No more purpose. No more drive. So I ask that You bestow forgiveness upon me for what I must do, as I am now left with no other choice. Show me a sign if it should be any other way. Give me the guidance and strength to do what I must. I ask this in your name. Amen."

Paul crossed himself and stood up from the awkward prostration that his locked-out knee forced him to perform. He blew out the oil lamp, and the cabin was thrown into darkness as he lay down for the night, slipping into the reaches of sleep until the rising sun would wake him once again.

***

Reid finished drying off a glass with a dish towel and placed it in the cupboard before returning to the open dishwasher. He smirked to himself in realization that he had at last fallen into the trap that was adult life. He woke up, showered, went to work, came home, ate, and dulled his mind with menial, household tasks like dishes to keep him occupied until it was time to go to bed. He couldn't believe it, but he found himself missing the old times out at the Costa Club. Last news he heard, the place had been closed down; a nasty scandal involving a prostitution ring. Pushing the rack back into the washer, he bent down to lift the door up to its closed position and noticed a slip of paper sticking out from underneath the refrigerator. Curious, he picked it up and turned it over, water-stained ink bearing Erin's phone number - the number Vance had given him nearly four months ago after the race. He'd completely forgotten. There was no use calling her now, it had been so long that to do so would be the epitome of faux pas.

He cast a glance at his watch. Aiden's watch. Then he looked back at the number. Setting it down on the counter, he unfastened the clasp on the watch and slid it off his wrist, laying it gently in the wooden bowl on his kitchen counter. Reid grabbed his phone and the number, and headed for the couch, where he plopped down and searched between the cushions for his confidence.

Across the city of Los Angeles, Erin Thomas was tucking her little girl into bed when the phone rang in the other room. Promising she would return presently, the vixen strode quickly into her bedroom and picked up the phone, glancing curiously at the number before sliding her thumb across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Hello, um, Erin?"

"Yes, who's calling?"

"Reid! Um, Reid, from Doghouse Performance. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Oh! No, hi Reid! Not at all, I was just putting Amber down for bed, about to have some ice cream and veg out in front of the TV for a few minutes." She laughed. Reid joined her awkwardly.

"Hey, that sounds like fun."

"Yeah! So how have you been? I'll admit I had forgotten I gave Vance my number to give to you."

"Oh, that goof, yeah, he forgot to give it to me until recently himself. I just wanted to call and catch up with you; I wanted to know how little Amber was doing."

"She's doing fine! Yeah, the treatments have been successful so far, the cancer is in remission, and her hair's even started to grow back, little by little. Thanks to you..."

"Oh, well, I do what I can." He responded modestly.

"No, really, Reid. I honestly can't thank you enough for what you did for Amber, and for me. It's been such a weight lifted off my shoulders these past few months; I can't even accurately describe it!"

"That's...that really makes me happy to hear." He said with all the genuineness he had in him, but it was half a sentence. The other half was a tearful proclamation of how good it felt to actually have done something so momentously good for someone for once. It wasn't until the end of that thought that he realized he'd spurred on an awkward silence on the line, one that needed correcting, and fast. So he said the first thing that came to his mind.

"I wanted to ask you, you know if you have a night here pretty soon where you're not doing anything, would you like to maybe have dinner with me?" He twirled an imaginary phone cord in between his fingers.

"I'd love to!"

"Yeah?"

"Definitely! Um, how's tomorrow night sound?"

"Hey, whenever's good for you is good for me! I know your time's probably at a premium, taking care of the kiddo and all."

"You can say that again. She can be a little handful sometimes, but I love her."

Reid chuckled.

"Oh, she's calling for me. It's her bedtime and I'm supposed to read her a story. You know how it is I'm sure!"

Reid smiled. If only.

"All right. Well, I'll call you tomorrow and we'll set something up."

"Sounds good Reid, I can't wait! Bye now!"

"See you."

***

Reid found himself having to consciously avoid checking his watch to see if it was time to leave work yet, as it was making the day creep by at a snail's pace. Lunchtime was rolling around, and unable to tear himself away from his expense reports, he chose to eat at his desk, something his therapist recommended he avoid. Before he could get another bite in, the bell on the front door rang.

"Be right with you." He wiped his mouth and exited the office to see a tall, clean-cut wolf wearing hospital scrubs standing there in the lobby. Behind him, just outside the door was a black, late model Cadillac CTS-V. Reid swallowed, freezing up a little bit. He was _hot_with a capital H.

"What can I do for you?"

"Is Lucy here?"

The cattle dog furrowed his brow and blinked a couple of times.

"Uh, yeah. One sec; let me see if she's available." He turned around, only to watch Lucy burst through the double doors and nearly sprint around the counter to throw her arms around the wolf and stand up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Reid pretended not to watch.

"Rigo, this is Reid, he's the honcho here." Lucy said, pulling away - only slightly - from her man and gesturing to the cattle dog, who politely extended a hand from the other side of the counter to shake hands.

"Rodrigo Cabrera. Everyone calls me Rigo, though. Good to meet you."

"Yeah, likewise. That's a nice CTS you've got out there. If you ever want to squeeze a little more horsepower out of that engine, just bring it on by." Reid suggested, smiling and wishing he could squeeze something else.

"I'll keep that in mind." Rigo smiled, turning to Lucy, "You ready?"

"I'm ready! I'll be back Reid; we're going to grab lunch."

"Take your time."

They turned to stroll out in style, their tails swishing into one another's before the taller canine stepped ahead to open the door for her. Reid turned so as not to get caught staring at an ass that would look twice as good in jeans as it did in those scrubs, but he smiled when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Rigo was opening the passenger side door of the car for her. Chivalry was alive and well, he presumed.

"Well, he was a tall drink of water, wasn't he?" Vance cooed leaning against the door and chuckling, his arms folded across his chest.

"Shut up." Reid laughed and pushed him. The pit bull followed him into the office.

"Lucy sure found herself a keeper with that one. Dude's a nurse practitioner, works over at Cedars-Sinai. She says he's going to medical school to become a cardiologist."

"Affairs of the heart, how ironic. Didn't you say they were having some problems?"

"They were on the rocks for a little while, but they patched things up. I dunno, Lucy doesn't say a whole lot about her love life, and when she does, she's got nothing but good things to say about him."

"I wonder if she told him the same thing she told us."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean is he under the same impression that we're supposed to be? Or does he know that she's not really from Arizona and she's only eighteen?"

Vance shrugged, "Can't say. I don't know what she told him. Just so we're clear, we're still pretending like we don't know any better?"

"Yeah." Reid sat down at the desk and resumed eating. The pit bull shoved his hands into his pockets and stood there for a second.

"What's going to happen when he finds out? What happens when she finds out that we know? It can't stay a secret forever."

"Don't know. I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"Hmm."

"Oh! Speaking of which, I was going to tell you," Reid finished chewing and swallowed while Vance raised his eyebrows curiously, "I finally called Erin last night."

"Just last night? After like four months?"

"Yeah, the number, it must have fallen off my fridge or something. I found it yesterday, gave her a call, and a couple of minutes later I had a date set up."

"Really? Wow, that's great! When is it?"

"Tonight."

"Well, you certainly don't waste any time."

"Nope."

"Where are you going?"

"Over to her house. I originally suggested that we go out somewhere when we spoke this morning, but she doesn't have anyone to watch the kid. She says she'd like to cook for me, so I guess we'll see how that goes."

"She can cook? You might have found yourself a keeper, there."

"Well, I guess whether or not she can cook has yet to be determined." Reid quipped with a laugh, shoveling another bite of salad into his muzzle, "Besides, that's not a deal breaker anyway." He finished, going wide-eyed as a mess of salad spilled from his mouth out onto his plate.

"You might not want to do that tonight." Vance suggested and laughed while an embarrassed heeler stuffed the greens back into his mouth.

***

Lucy finished texting someone on her phone and stuck it back in her pocket, smiling at the waitress as she brought their drinks out. Rigo wet his whistle on some water with lemon and smacked his lips, smiling up at his girlfriend across the table.

"How's work going today?"

"It's going awesome." Lucy nodded, "I'm working on an Impreza today, putting a turbo in and then later on the guys are going to train me on tuning the ECU. It's a lot of fun. My fur's been getting kinda mucky, but it comes with the territory I guess."

"I always wondered why you guys don't wear gloves or something. You want some? I'll get you a couple of boxes of them from the hospital if you want."

"Nah, I don't think I need to be worried about getting hepatitis from old motor oil and bearing grease." She winked.

"True, true." Rigo laughed, "I guess I'm just used to keeping my hands clean. Kinda have to in my line of work." He wiggled his fingers.

"How about you, are they treating you well?"

"About like usual, I guess. Had to watch a family say goodbye today. It's never easy. That's why I had to get out for lunch; I just wanted to see you. You know just how to make a bad day better."

"How's that?" She asked, reaching across the table and wrapping her hand around his.

"I don't know. You just do it automatically." He said. She smiled, casting her gaze down to the table for a moment.

"I love you." Rigo said. It was such a simple statement, but he always said it in no uncertain terms. He needn't even say it to begin with. She could see it in his eyes every time he looked at her. It was as evident in his gaze as it was in his words, his actions, and his touch. He was all she needed, and she knew it well.

"I love you too."

They took a short-lived reprieve from the conversation to look at the menu. It was a relatively upscale restaurant, with lunch items reaching into the forty dollar range, but as Rigo often said, money wasn't something one took along on the journey to the hereafter. That was taken care of by family members. He'd seen far too much death in his career field to believe otherwise. Rigo made his decision and closed the hardback menu, setting it down on the edge of the table.

"You know something? I was thinking of taking a vacation here soon. What do you think?"

"I don't know if I should be asking for time off already, I've only been working at the shop for a few months now."

"They shouldn't have an issue with it, I don't think. That guy you work for over there seems pretty cool."

"Reid? Yeah, he's a really great guy. All of the guys there are. Reid, he's kind of...enigmatic? Would that be the right word? He's a little secretive about himself, it seems like if I ask him a question about his life or his past, he's sort of dodgy about it. I guess maybe he's like me, he's got a past he'd prefer to leave behind."

"Maybe so. Some people do. But, y'know, our experiences and what we learn from them are what define us. I guess if he takes care of you around there and you're happy working there, I can't fault him. So what do you say to a little weekend getaway?" He leaned in a little closer. Lucy smiled and brushed a strand of hair behind the fur on her cheek.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere you want to."

Lucy couldn't help but blush. She'd truly met the man of her dreams. She couldn't think straight when he put on like Prince Charming, but she wondered just how long it would be before he found out the truth. It was something she pondered each and every night as she stared at the ceiling and he slept soundly beside her, thinking he knew exactly who she was. It filled her with guilt, but the worst part, she thought, was having no one trustworthy enough to come clean to for advice. It was better, she thought, to live in the moment. At least for the time being.

***

Reid stood inside his closet, perusing his scant selection of clothes. It had been so long since he'd been on a date that he hadn't even considered buying clothes that were deemed appropriate for a date with a lady.

Finally, he found some nice jeans devoid of stains, and decided those would be sufficient for a dinner date at someone's house. It wasn't as if you could Google someone's house and figure out a dress code. He never realized just how good a pair of dress shoes could look with some nice blue jeans. He delved into the darkest recesses of his closet and found a shirt that completed the ensemble, white, with light grey pinstripes. He decided he'd hit the mark. The perfect blend between casual and an attempt at formality and gentility.

After styling his hair for the first time in years (and finding it to be heartbreakingly thin), he grabbed his keys and headed out of his bedroom into the kitchen, where his eye caught the watch sitting in the wooden bowl on the counter where he'd placed it the previous night. It stared back at him, its second hand ticking around the circumference of the stainless steel timepiece. He sighed, and picked it up. Aiden. If Aiden were still around, he wouldn't have to worry about making a good impression. Or dressing up. If Aiden were still around, he would probably be curled up on the couch in his underwear, munching on popcorn with him while they marathon-watched another TV series on Netflix. Frowning, he slipped his left hand through the band on the watch and closed the clasp around his wrist. Letting go didn't mean forgetting entirely, he reasoned.

He just really liked that watch.