Rated [M]

Hailey's POV

I stand in front of the full-length mirror in my underwear, looking at the odd shape my body has taken on. My breasts are spilling over the tops of my bra and I have a potbelly – like I indulged in one too many burritos. I'm not sure if it's my imagination, but even my hips and thighs are starting to look a little wider.

Jay enters the bathroom behind me and drapes his arms around my waist. Slowly he slides his hands down, caressing the sloping contours of my bare belly. My body instantly responds to his touch. It sends shivers up my spine as well as trillions of nicely chilling goosebumps all over my body. These pregnancy hormones are doing a number on me; I'm certain of that. I do nothing but feel - all the time. A little fact that really hasn't bothered Jay one bit.

I make the mistake of looking into his eyes – they're sleepy and seductive, but also… they look warm and happy, and he's got a goofy smile on his face. God, it makes me want to kiss him.

"Still looking for that pregnancy glow?" Jay asks, sort of mockingly. I roll my eyes and he nudges me playfully. "You're practically a neon sign."

"Stop it." I sigh and turn sideways towards the mirror. "I will be glad when I look truly pregnant."

"You have a clear bump there. Don't you?" Jay asks warily. The guy is no fool, and he obviously doesn't want to say the wrong thing here.

"Starting to, yes, but that's the problem. People who know I'm pregnant see a baby bump. Most of the world looks at me and think I've been eating a few too many burritos."

Jay laughs and plants a kiss on my hair, his hands coming to rest on my midsection. "I think you look beautiful."

"You have to say that – otherwise you'll have to spend the day listening to the grievances of a highly emotional pregnant woman," I mutter with a sigh. "We'll see if you still think that when I'm the size of a house."

"I can't think of anything more beautiful." He bends down and kisses my baby bump, making me weak in the knees. I run my fingers through his hair and down his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath his warm skin. Immediately my heart picks up the pace, thumping against my ribs. Pull yourself together, I admonish myself.

"I'm going start breakfast," he says.

"Yeah, you go do that." I smack his butt as he squeezes past me on his way out.

I take my time coming downstairs – washing my face, brushing my teeth, and putting my crazy hair in a ponytail. I wrap myself in a cozy robe and make my way over to the kitchen. I find Jay standing by the stove wearing nothing but these butt-hugging boxer briefs, that outlines his perfect ass. His hair is mussy – courtesy of my fingers – and when he hears me, he turns slightly to give me a wink and a grin. Mmmm. God, these pregnancy hormones are making me senseless.

"I'm making pancakes," he says. "I thought that since your nausea subsided, we could try eating a real breakfast for a change."

"It smells delicious," I say, licking my lips.

"How many pancakes do you want?" he asks as he mans a griddle he'd just dropped butter on. A bowl of batter sits next to it.

"Two," I reply.

Jay moves past me, brushing his body innocently against me. He smells so good – the same way he always has. Something like soap and shaving cream, maybe a little toothpaste, mingled with a masculine undertone that is uniquely him. His hands settle on my hips, and he squeezes affectionately. It's a brief touch before he grabs a spatula from a drawer and slides back to the griddle, but it is enough to make every inch of my skin tingle with awareness.

He feels me watching him because his eyes spare me a glace before pouring six perfect pancake circles on the hot griddle. "What?"

"Nothing," I say. But Jay stares knowingly at me; he looks smug, as if he understands my blush.

He turns off the griddle and walks toward me, eyeing me up and down. His proximity makes me shiver and once again and I feel goosebumps rise on my sensitive skin. His grin widens.

"Come here." His low husky voice sends a chill down my spine.

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me. His mouth then travels down my neck and I am already having trouble keeping my breathing steady. He lifts me up and sets me carefully on the kitchen island. He loosens the belt on my robe and slides a hand over my rounded belly, traveling down the slope of the baby bump and farther to caress me intimately. When his fingers touch me, a painful thrilling spasm shoots through me with the speed and sense of an electric shock.

"You're so wet," he says surprised.

I want to laugh. But then I can only groan as he removes my bra and licks and nips the tender skin there. Every touch sets off fireworks in my body, and I arch my back at the twin sensation of his mouth and fingers working me. My soft moans turn into whimpers, and my body tightens with its impeding climax. I bite my lip, trying to not scream out because everything feels excruciatingly wonderful.

"Please, Jay," I beg for release.

"Not yet." He gently shifts my underwear down my hips and I feel his other hand grip one of my thighs as he pries my legs apart. "I need a taste of you first."

That is all the warning I get before his lips clamp on me, and it is more than I can take. I tip my head back, coming unglued as he continues to drive me crazy with his tongue. He laps at me like he can't get enough. He builds up the pleasure bit by bit, paying attention to each of my responses. Everything coalesces, and then I'm gone. His mouth stays on me, making little delighted noises that makes everything that much sweeter. I'm limp on the kitchen island, twitching with aftershocks.

I look at him and blush when I see him licking his lips. He smirks, pleased at watching me lose all higher brain function.

"You good?" he asks, with a happy smile. When I nod, he moves between my legs and enters me, slowly, kissing me as he goes. He is being careful, checking all my reactions. He stops at full entry, kissing the top of my head. "Still good, babe?"

I nod and he starts a simple rhythm, moving his hand to cup my butt to positon us better. He is so gentle, but gentle or not, I'm overly sensitive and everything feels incredibly intense. He kisses the moans from my lips as he rocks back and slide home slowly – still gently. But eventually his pace increases, and soon enough my body erupts again and with a few more thrusts, I feel his release. I hold tightly to his arms, still moving with him, slowing while we try to catch our breaths.

"I will make you pancakes for breakfast every day," he says, a little breathless. "For the rest of our lives."

I laugh and feel a little flutter inside my belly. Like butterflies. I've been feeling it a lot lately. "I think the baby is moving," I say and Jay stares at me for a moment before his eyes trail down to my stomach. "I don't think you can feel it yet."

He places his hand on my bump, his baby bump, and continues to stare at it with the biggest grin I'd ever seen on his face. "What do you feel?"

I close my eyes and murmur, "Like little tickles, or butterflies. Keep talking. Maybe the baby likes your voice."

"Do you like to hear me talk? Well, you're going to hear a lot of my voice for the rest of your life, kid."

I nod, and the tears stream down my face – damn hormones. Jay probably thinks I've lost all my senses, ricocheting like an emotional pinball off one mood into another. God, what's happening to me?

He runs his thumb along my cheek, wiping the fallen tears. "Happy tears?"

"So happy," I answer.

We kiss and I cry some more. The father of my child. My future husband. My everything. All of me, loves this man.

Jay's POV

Ruzek and I are stuck doing general surveillance today, which means spending time in a windowless van. The superintended dropped a drug case on our desks and we need solid evidence for a search warrant. We've been here for hours now; I've lost count on how many cups of coffee I've had, which isn't sitting so well in my stomach.

"We could be tapped into their mother's phone and we still won't be able to get anything," Ruzek says mildly irritated. "We've been sitting out here for hours and nothing!"

"They are careful, that's why they are good. Let's hope Kim and Rojas were able to get something on their end," I say, feeling just as frustrated. Today has been a total bust.

Ruzek sighs then after a beat, he asks, "So how's Hailey doing? The baby?"

"Good. She just had her eighteen-week appointment, which was crazy detailed, and everything was good."

Ruzek smiles. "That's pretty awesome, man. Do you know what you're having? Boy? Girl?"

"I wanted to find out, but Hailey didn't, and there was no way I was going to know by myself. So…. I don't know what we're having."

Ruzek chuckles and shakes his head. "Yeah, whatever they say goes. The only thing Kim and I had agreed on was that I was moving in." Vestiges of raw emotions that had been tucked away show in the faraway look in his eyes. "I should have a one-year-old right now, crazy right?"

"Yeah. Did you know what you were having?" I ask, straining to keep my tone light.

"Nah," he shakes his head. "Kim was only fifteen weeks when she lost the baby. But Kim is a planner, she would want to find out. She's not into surprises."

"Maybe I can get Kim to convince Hailey."

Ruzek chuckles. "You can certainly try."

We spend a few more hours in the van until Atwater calls, telling us Rojas and Kim actually got something. We gladly return to the district and when I go up to the pen, the first thing I see is Hailey. She is standing there, updating the board. Although her shirt is loose and untucked, the small baby bump is still very much noticeable.

One day, as if almost instantly, Hailey's belly popped and she had a full baby bump. She looks as though she stuffed a small ball under her blouse and if you pay close attention you can see her walking with a teeny waddle. I love it. I love skimming my hands over her sensitive skin, rediscovering the new curves she's developing. I feel like the luckiest man in the world, and regardless of what she thinks, she glows from the inside out.

She sees us coming and an automatic smile brightens up her face, making her look even more beautiful.

"So, what do we have?" I ask, sitting on the edge of my desk. "Cause Ruze and I got zilch."

"Vanessa and Kim are bringing in this girl," she points to a picture, "Mariela Martinez. They think she's one of Reggie's girl. They caught her trying to score."

"What do we know about her?" Ruzek asks.

"Not a whole lot," she says, and her left hand bushes fleetingly on the swell of her stomach. I bet she's feeling those butterflies again. "Mariela has been in and out of foster homes her entire life. Her rap sheet isn't that impressive – solicitation, shoplifting, minor drug charges."

"Do we have anything else on her?" Ruzek asks.

"Nothing substantial we can use to turn her, if that's what you're asking," Hailey says.

I sigh. "Let's hope they can talk her to flip on Reggie, otherwise we have nothing on him."

Vanessa and Kim return with Mariela. She looks young – too young. She can't be more than eighteen. The fear in her face gives it away. She also seems shell-shocked and fidgety; a sign her withdrawal hasn't fully set in yet.

"So what's the plan?" Voight asks, as we stare at this girl behind the two-way mirror.

"She's terrified," Rojas notes. "With a little push she might just give us what we want."

"Okay," Voight nods. "Push it."

We watch Kim and Rojas go at this girl for hours with no success. Turns out, she's too scared to talk, and in the rare occasion when she does speak, she stammers and chokes on her own words. But I don't get the feeling she's actively protecting Reggie.

"Now what?" Atwater asks.

"I think we're going at this girl the wrong way," Hailey begins. "She's clearly been abused. She is just scared what will happen to her when Reggie is out of the picture." Hailey's face takes on a melancholy expression I haven't seen in a while. "Let me talk to her. I think I have a way in."

Voight looks at Hailey, contemplating her request.

"This girl is not a threat," she adds. "I will be fine."

Voight looks around the pen and slowly nods his head. "If you think you have an angle, play it."

"I'll go in with you," I offer.

She places a hand on chest. "I think I need to do this alone."

Hailey walks into the interrogation room and Mariela looks at her anxiously, pulling her sleeves down over her hands.

"I'm Hailey," she says sweetly and takes a seat next to the young girl. "I thought you might be hungry, so I brought some food." Hailey reaches into the brown paper bag and pulls out two sandwiches and a water. "I didn't know if you preferred ham and cheese or tuna, so I brought both."

The girl eyes the food suspiciously, but doesn't reach for it.

After a beat of silence, Hailey jumps right in, "Reggie was probably the first guy who cared for you, right?" When you aged out he gave you a place to stay, food, clothes – things your own mother couldn't give you."

Mariela looks at Hailey, and after a few moments she finds her voice. "My mother was more interested on her next score than her own kids."

"And Reggie was there for you," Hailey affirms. "He's family, and you don't turn your back on family."

"You're damn right." Mariela's body stiffens. Her tone is level, but there is defiance in her face–a lifetime of defiance. "So go right ahead and charge me because I ain't talking."

Hailey sits back on her chair, formulating her next question. "When was the first time Reggie gave you blow?" Mariela scowls her face in disapproval of the question. "Look I've been a cop a long time. I can see you're going through withdrawal."

"I'm fine," Mariela says through gritted teeth.

"So tell me, at what point did he make you go down on him for your next fix?" Mariela's stunned expression tells Hailey she'd hit a nerve. "He forced you do things, even when you didn't want it. Then you convinced yourself it was love, despite how worthless it made you feel," Hailey pushes.

Mariela doesn't say anything, but she doesn't look away, either, so Hailey continues. "Reggie is not your family. He is a drug lord who got you hooked on dope so that he could use you."

"You don't know anything. If you did–"

"—I know, Mariela. I know guys like Reggie. That first time when you said no, and he raped you, he took something from you," Hailey says quietly, her tone shifting. "I know this because it was taken from me too."

Mariela straightens her shoulder and her eyes widen. On the other side of the mirror I bite the inside of my lip to keep from reacting.

"I know the guilt and humiliation," Hailey continues. "And it's worse at night, when everything is quiet and you feel that sick churning in your stomach, a panicky sensation in your chest…" Hailey lets her words sink in and Mariela swallows hard, a tear leaks from her right eye. "The memories make you paralyzed and you can't move, can't breathe. You feel so broken."

My heart hurts; the tight, aching squeeze unrelenting.

"Please, stop," Mariela sobs, her words garbled and muffled from behind her tear-drenched hands. "I don't want to hear it anymore."

Hailey's eyes swim with emotion, some of which I can't read. "This shame you're feeling right now is a trap. Please, let me help you," she begs.

Mariela shakes her head as if to ban the conflicting thoughts swarming her mind. "I-I can't—"

"—You can! Life doesn't have to be like this, Mariela. It can be good. You can be happy. Just Let us help you."

Hailey touches Mariela's shoulder and her face falls to her hands. She breaks down in tears. After a few moments, the young girl lifts her eyes up and nods. "What do you want to know?"

Hailey emerges from the interrogation room with more information on this drug lord than we know what do to with. But I can tell it came at a great cost – she looks exhausted, emotionally drained, but manages to give me smile.

"You are incredible; did you know that?" I push her hair out of her face and plant a chaste kiss on her lips – I don't care who sees it. "You okay?" I ask.

She nods, rubbing a hand absentmindedly over her belly. "Yeah. I'm good." She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I need to go talk to Trudy to make sure Mariela is taken care of."

I point to her hand caressing her small bump. "Butterflies again?"

"Yeah," she smiles.

As she starts to leave, I reached out for her arm and pull her back to me. "Promise me you'll tell if things go dark in your head today."

She nods and takes my hand, squeezing it. "I'm good, but there's something you can help me with."

"Anything," I tell her.

A Blush warms her cheeks. She bites her lip and says. "I want pancakes for dinner."

God, I love her.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate every single one of your reviews. I will keep exploring different scenarios with them. If you guys have any requests, I can try to include it. (I've had people asking me to bring Lindsay back for a small chapter arc. What are your thoughts?) I hope everyone is staying safe out there. Cheers, D.