Dark Secrets(84)

The thing about spending your life in law enforcement was, your skill set was specific. He could fight. He could strategize. He could assess threats.

So he needed to find a job that put those skills to use.

As such, he eventually found himself in private security- a job he could do as full or part time as he wanted, a way for him to feel useful again. 

"What's wrong with purple?" she shot back as they stood next to the endless paint swatches at the home improvement store.

"Babe..." he said with a brow raise that she sighed at.

"Alright, fine. But, um, maybe we should, ah, pick out a couple more colors..."

"Babe, the apartment is a studio," he said, brows drawn together, turning to give her his full attention not only because that was a weird request from her, but because it wasn't like her to trip over her own words.

"Well, see..."

"Okay," he said, putting down the handful of items they had already picked up, just various things to fix up a bunch of things that hadn't been working right for a while that she had never gotten around to hiring anyone to fix. "How about some eye-contact," he suggested, ducking his head a little. She took a long time to raise her dark eyes and he found the area around them tight, tense. "What's going on?"

"This really isn't the place to..."

"Faith," he cut her off, reaching out to touch the side of her neck. "Know you're not exactly the kind to be shy about shit, so out with it."

"Fine," she snapped, small-eyeing him. "I think I'm pregnant."

Everything inside him seemed to seize at those words.

It wasn't that he was freaked, just surprised. And maybe a little concerned. They hadn't had that talk. They'd been safe. They were both experienced, mature people who knew better than to chance it without a condom. But there was always a chance.

And they never had the kid talk.

Hell, neither of them had ever really even been around a lot of kids save for Xander and Ellie's baby who, luckily for his parents, was a happy baby and would go to anyone.

"Okay," he said, nodding a little. "First things first... think?" he asked.

"I'm late. I'm never late. It's clockwork. I just..."

"Alright," he said, releasing her neck, taking her hand, leaving all the shit they had compiled and leading her out onto the street.

"What are you doing? We needed that stuff..." she objected as he pulled her down the block.

"We need to have an answer so you stop stressing out without knowing," he said simply. It wasn't like her to not confront things, so he figured her avoiding it was because she was worried about his reaction. And that wasn't alright. If she was or if she wasn't, they were in it together. "Early test?" he asked as they walked down the aisle and he saw for the first time how many options there were for such a thing.

"I guess? I mean... I have no idea. I've never taken one before."

"Early it is," he said, grabbing a box and dragging her to the register then back through the store toward the bathroom.

"Daniel, we can wait until we get home," she insisted as he opened the door and they both moved inside.

"By then, we could have our answer," he said, ripping open the box and handing her the stick. "You pee, I'll read the instructions."

"I'm so not peeing in front of you. We're not there yet. Actually," she said, shaking her head, "we will never be there."

"Here," he said, ignoring her and turning on the tap high.

On a sigh, likely knowing she wasn't going to win the argument, she went into a stall and peed on the stick then came back out.

"Alright, one line is not, two is," Daniel said, taking the stick and putting it on the counter. "We have to wait at least three minutes," he told her, pulling her into his side

They both stood there watching the clock.

He wasn't sure exactly what she was feeling, but he had a strange mix of trepidation and excitement. He hadn't lived a life where he could have ever considered bringing a child into the world. But, standing there in a fucking drug store bathroom staring at a pee stick, his arm wrapped around a woman he realized on a lazy Sunday afternoon, five months into them dating, while she bitched about the new bartender at Lam, that he loved the fucking woman more than he had loved anything in his entire empty life, that he wanted kids with her. He wanted to come in and watch her on her knees in front of a small daughter, teaching her how to throw a punch. He wanted to see her hand a switchblade to her right before her first date. He wanted to see her get all teary-eyed when she went off to college. Because, despite her adamant declaration that she was not a crier, he had seen her tear up at least a dozen times in nine months. And one of those times was when he told her he loved her. To which she had responded with a, "Yeah, well, I guess I love you too."