Flack stood outside the car holding the bag from Nathan's Famous practically drooling at the smells wafting up at him. What had stopped him short was the look on his partner's face. Gus sat staring out the window with such a downcast look on her face, Flack was sure she was about to bust into tears at any second. And Gus made it a point to never cry on duty. Flack was pretty sure her look had nothing to do with being forced by budget cutbacks to perform surveillance duties normally booted down to uniforms.

But she had been so closed lipped lately. He studied her, the furrow on her brow marring her otherwise beautiful face. Sunlight glinted off her blond hair, framing her like a portrait of the Madonna. Flack snorted, always amazed at how his foul mouthed partner could seem to innocent when she thought no one was looking. He noticed she was absently twirling the wedding band on her left hand, something he often did as well when stuck in the car on an endlessly boring task. Actually, he usually took it off and spun it on the dash; inevitably getting it stuck in the crevices between the seats and the console, causing Gus to berate him well after their shift was over.

Flack opened the door and slid in. “Sunshine you going for wrinkles with that frown?” he teased as he carefully untied the bag.

“Yeah, fat with wrinkles, what I was going for”, Gus muttered acridly.

Flack slid his eyes over to her, trying to figure out how to not step on the land mine before him. Sure, maybe she had put on a couple of pounds since the wedding, but he had done the same thing. Sitting in the car for shifts on end instead of being out on the street wasn't helping things, but they were both able to pass their annuals without any problems.

“That why you made me chase down a side salad to go with your cheese dog?” Flack replied with a dimpled grin.

Gus didn't respond. Flack raised his eyebrows.

“Well, when your resolve breaks”, he paused and reached into the paper bag, “I still got you an order of rings, ketchup and mustard on the side”. Flack slid the order of hot and greasy onion rings in her direction.

Gus took one look and whiff of them and launched herself out the door and directly toward the open dumpster.

Bewildered, Flack stood beside Gus as she finished hurling. She straightened, accepting his handkerchief with a wry smile.

“Always the gentleman”, she said with a hollow laugh looking green.

A bolt of realization hit Flack upside the head. “Um, sunshine?”, he started, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah?” Gus replied, looking at the car filled with the scent of grease and hot dogs with disgusted disdain.

“How long has this been going on?”

Gus shrugged, “I musta got the flu”.

“I don't think it is the flu”, Flack shot back, taking in her pale but fuller face, “because I don't have it”.

Gus fiddled with her hair, a sure sign of nervousness.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Flack asked, a genuine smile plastered across his face.

“Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know”, Gus stammered out, her eyes filling with tears.

Flack felt waves of protectiveness and concern wash over him, not caring about the surveillance on the empty building across the street, Flack pulled Gus to his chest.

“Hey now, this isn't anything to cry about!”

“Yes it is, I mean maybe it is. I don't know anything for sure”.

“What do you mean you don't know for sure? You haven't taken a test, been to a doctor?”

Gus shook her head lamely.

“Gus come on, you can't mess-” Flack cut off and shook his head.

He slid into the car and radioed dispatch to inform them that they were taking a code 7. He pulled her towards the nearest Duane Reade.

“Flack, what the hell?” Gus cried as Flack dragged her down the aisle of the store.

“Despite pretty much already knowing the answer, I think you need to see it in black and white”, Flack said, pulling a box off the shelf.

“I guess so”, Gus sighed as they headed toward the check out.

“How you doing in there?” Flack asked, gently knocking on the bathroom door.

“Peeing on a stick is not exactly rocket science, blue eyes”, Gus called from the other side of the door, “now leave me alone”.

Flack paced in the living room, his eyes taking in the photographs of the team, landing on a bridal portrait of Gus, taken at Stella's insistence in Central Park. He chuckled at the sight, Gus with her eyes rolling in trademark disdain. He picked up one of him and her in dress blues at the reception Mac threw for them after their promotion. He was standing ramrod straight, evoking the ghost of his father while Gus was lashing out in a faux punch toward Danny who had been mercilessly torturing her right outside the frame. Flack loved the apartment's décor, a mixture of modern playfulness and priceless antiques, something her attributed to Gus' New Orleans roots. He smiled slightly at the thought of a baby being raised there, amongst the colorful oil paintings and sunny afternoons as Gus banged out jazz standards on the upright piano. The study would make a perfect nursery...

He walked back to the bathroom, imaging Gus counting the subway tiles as she waited for time to be up to verify her fate.

“What's the good word, Gus?” Flack asked, bouncing on his heels in the hallway.

Gus slowly eased open the bathroom door, a look of anxious confusion on her face. She held out the stick so Flack could read the digital face clearly displaying a 'yes'.

Flack beamed, “That's just great, you are going to be an amazing mom, I just know it!”

“Great, you think this is great?” Gus questioned, her cheeks flushed.

Flack nodded, “It is great...isn't it?”

Gus shrugged, “I don't know. We were going to wait, we haven't been married that long”.

“Over a year”, Flack countered.

“Yeah, but we wanted to have more money saved up and what about Ireland? We were going to go to Ireland”.

“But the promotions meant more money”, Flack said and then leaned in and whispered, “And I don't know how to tell you this, but they let kids and pregnant women visit Ireland”.

Gus punched him on the arm, “Of course this is just hilarious for you!”

She stormed past him and tossed the stick in the trash.

“Wait, don't you want to keep that?” Flack said rushing after her.

“Flack, I peed on it!”

“I know, but it's just...kinda huge”.

“Yeah, like my ass is going to get”, Gus moaned, feeling another wave of nausea wash over her, bracing the counter to fight it off.

Flack rustled through the cabinets, handing her a box of crackers, “Here this should help”.

“You are going to be all knowing and helpful all through this aren't you?” Gus moaned, biting into a saltine with far more force than necessary.

“Of course I am, we're partners, right?”

Gus nodded and then dropped her head into her hands, “Damn it, Flack, how am I going to tell my husband?”

Flack rubbed her on her back, “Well, not how my wife told me, considering you dropped the stick in the trash. But that was kinds of gross considering I grabbed it outta box stick end first”.

Gus could help but smile into her hands. “Thanks Flack, you're the best”, she said, pulling him into a hug.

“No problem, sunshine”, he said into the top of her head.

“You really think I will make a great mom?” she asked, pulling away and wiping her eyes.

“Yeah, no question. But Adam as a dad? I have my doubts on that one”.

Gus reply was to punch him yet again.

A/N: So did I get you wondering who was the pairing? I hope so :). Anyhow, since the Adam/Gus pairing went so well in Aphina's Devine Intervention that it carried over to Brown eyed Girl's Memories of Brooklyn, I decided I should do my own stand alone. Will be part of a larger fluffy series. Enjoy!