"A pregnancy test?" Michael is standing in stunned silence. His facial expression is unreadable. Then, Michael sits next to me and places his hand on my knee. "How long do we have to wait?" he asks hesitantly. My phone's alarm sounds, before I can even answer his question.
"It's time!" Both of us just sit there, anxiously looking at each other. Michael runs his knuckles over my jaw and gives me his award-winning smile. I kiss him softly, needing to feel his lips on mine.
"Do you want me, to check the test?" he asks.
"I can do it." I stand up and slowly move towards the bench. It is only a few feet away, but it feels like I need to run a marathon to get the results. Two stripes means you are pregnant, one stripe and you're not. I look at the test and let the results sink in. Michael stands up quickly and comes over to me.
"It's negative, I am not pregnant," I tell him, unemotionally. Then, I sigh and look down. I don't want Michael to see my disappointment, nor do I want to see his. Michael wraps his arm around me and lifts my chin with his right hand.
"Hey, don't be upset. We haven't really even been trying and now, we'll get to do the fun part and try to get you pregnant." Michael starts to kiss my neck. "And, I am so looking forward to trying." I giggle at Michael's audacity, while savouring his touch and kiss.
"We haven't been trying, but we have sex like twice a day"
"I can do it more," Michael says, winking at me. Laughing, I shake my head at him, aware of how much I really love him.
"You're not disappointed?" I ask him.
"Well, to be honest, I am a little but I wasn't expecting this scenario, when I entered the bathroom. Why did you think you were pregnant? Have you had any symptoms?"
"I haven't experienced any real symptoms, but since I stopped taking the pill four weeks ago and I haven't had my cycle yet, I thought that just maybe. I don't know. I guess it was wishful thinking," I shrugged. Deep down, I just wanted everything to happen quickly, a Grey family trait.
"I think we should start right now. Don't you agree, Mrs Fuller? Come back to bed with me," he requests and I follow willingly.
Dr Flynn's office, Two years in the future:
"So, did you want to have children, then?" Dr. Flynn inquires.
"It felt right to have kids then. Michael had been patient. We had our house. The Clinic was operational and I passed my Boards. I wanted to grant Michael his wish."
"You haven't answered my question. Did YOU, WANT to have children?" Dr. Flynn repeats his question with emphasis.
"Yes. Yes, I did, though I wonder if I wanted to make Michael happy more at the time, but I did want to! Though I was scared also"
"You remind me so much of your father, when he was younger" Dr. Flynn says pensively.
"How?" Dad is always in control, unlike myself right now.
"No matter. Tell me what happened next?"
"You want me to tell you about the sex Michael and I had?" I grinned at my comment. I'm well aware that was not Dr. Flynn's intent, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him.
"Only, if you do," Dr. Flynn states professionally. I sit back and wonder if my father ever discussed sex with the doctor. "Phoebe, you know what I mean."
"The next day at the clinic, everything changed." I close my eyes and realize that I should have done something there and then. That very day, I shouldn't have waited.
"Good morning, Dr. Grey," greeted Alice, our receptionist from the clinic. Our State aid, had generously funded a receptionist, a nurse and three doctors. We had hired two full time doctors, while Dr. Alexander Watts and I worked part-time in order to keep up our hospital hours. The three doctors that helped us set up the clinic, also worked here, doing their clinic hours here, rather than at the hospital's clinic. Regardless, we were planning a formal fundraiser, a charity ball, to fund an additional doctor and registered nurse, to meet the increasing needs of the community and create an endowment.
"Morning, Alice. How has the early morning been?" I look at the waiting room and realize that I needn't have asked.
"Busy. The waiting room is packed," she reports.
"I better get to it, then," I grab the next file and look at the name and I am forced to take a deep breath. "Xavier Brown," I call out. My eyes dart around the room, looking for Baby Xavier.
An elderly woman, approximately sixty years of age, stands up, as does a little boy. I wonder, is that the little boy I admitted on Christmas Day? How, in the hell, the hospital let that precious little baby boy be released, is still beyond me. I start to think that maybe it isn't that little baby. This boy is now walking and talking a little. "Baby X," would only have been nine-months-old, now.
"Right this way, follow me," I instruct the woman with the little boy, leading them into the exam room. I pull-up the medical records quickly, but there is little information provided.
"Good morning, I am Dr. Grey. Are you the patients mother," I begin my inquiry.
"No, I am his grandmother. His mother's current address is unknown," she responds. I record my notes by typing them into the medical record, making it look official, so my questions seem routine.
"And the boy's father?" The woman laughs at my question.
"Gone. He gave up his parental rights at his birth. He wanted Xavier adopted, but my stubborn daughter didn't. Then she up and went, and abandoned him, again. I'm his legal guardian," she rants.
"I don't understand. Please explain." I know my questioning may soon be suspicious, but I needed to know, for my own sake.
"Xavier was first abandoned at a hospital, some months back. We had to lie to the hospital, to have him returned to us and at that time, I managed to get my daughter to move in with me. Poor baby, he was insanely small. He is much bigger now. But my daughter took-off again, a few months ago."
"In what hospital was he seen?" I ask, knowing that the answer to this one question, would be definitive.
"Seattle University, but Social Services has all that information, if you need it. They won't leave us alone," she growls, annoyed.
"Why is that? Aren't you now Xavier's guardian?" My curiosity about whether this child was the same baby I cared for on Christmas Day, has now been replaced with a deep need to know what has transpired with Xavier, in the intervening months.
"Yes, but I am not in the best shape to care for a thirteen-month-old. They are likely to place him into foster care." I am shocked, that that Xavier is now thirteen-months-old. Therefore, when I saw him, he was eight months old, but presented much younger. Damn, I missed the "Failure to Thrive" diagnosis. We had no information on him and we were all convinced he was only four months. He must have suffered from neglect. My heart breaks.
"How can I help Xavier?" I refocus on the little boy in front of me. His dark brown eyes are the same, but his lovely brown hair has grown and his skin has an olive tinge.
"Xavier has had a bad cough and has had some heavy breathing," the grandmother reports. I listen to his chest and hear the congestion.
"How long has he been coughing like this?"
"About a week," she answers.
"I am concerned about his chest. He is going to need antibiotics. I am going to give you a two week supply, but I want you to bring him back in two weeks, so I can listen to his chest. I will make sure that I, personally, am here to see him." I really don't want him to leave, but I have no legal grounds to keep him here. He isn't malnourished and Social Services is monitoring his case. I gave him a thorough examination, to rule out other illnesses. He checked-out and reluctantly, I let him leave.
I call my contact in Social Services, to inquire about Xavier Brown's case. She confirms they have been monitoring his case, closely, as his mother had gone missing, on several occasions and his living conditions were deficient. I decided to wait two weeks, to follow-up with Xavier's condition, before I add anything else to the report.
Two weeks later and the whole day goes by with no sign of Xavier and his grandmother. I double and triple check the lists, to no avail. It is 4:00pm and I should be leaving by now, but I can't. I call Michael, to inform him that I will be late.
Michael: Hey there, gorgeous. Want me, to pick you up from the clinic? I have been missing you today.
Phoebe: Then you are not going to like the fact that I need to stay at the clinic a while longer. My patient, from two weeks ago, is a no-show and I'm looking into it.
I told Michael everything about Xavier. But, when he asked me why I felt drawn to this one child, I couldn't give an answer. I just didn't know why.
Michael: Do you think they will show up late? I know you have taken a personal interest in this child, but you need to remember that you may not be able to help everyone.
Phoebe: I know, I just need to wait and see. Will you wait, till I get home, to have dinner?
Michael: Of course, but if you are not home by 6pm, then I am going to come down to the Clinic and carry you out over my shoulder.
Phoebe: Deal. I love you Mr. Fuller.
Michael: I love you too, Mrs. Fuller!
Phoebe: See you tonight. Bye
At 5:00pm, with no sign of Xavier or his grandmother, I pull-up his file and note his address. I go outside and find White waiting for me. I know that I should ask for his help, but the first thing he would do is report to my father or Michael and they would not approve. The location, of the residence in question, is in one of the worst areas of Seattle, with two shootings there, last week alone. I know White won't agree to take me, so I conclude that I only have one option.
"Hi White. I need your help with something," I put on my best attempt at acting.
"What can I help you with, Phoebe?"
"There is an abusive patient inside, and security needs back-up. Can you assist?" I request. He agrees and enters the clinic. Once he is out of sight, I grab my car keys and take-off.
When I arrive at my destination, I truly realize the unsafe situation I'm in. It is a noisy and there are several drunks on one side of the street and there are also a couple of guys fighting on the other side. I get out of the car, and walk into a building that looks like it should have been condemned years ago.
The first thing I notice when I enter, is the dark mold on the walls and ceiling and the musty smell that accompanies it. These conditions would aggravate Xavier's respiratory distress, and are likely to be the main cause of his ill health. I walk up to the second floor and knock on the door. No one answers. I knock again and still, no answer. Finally, I look around and see no one.
I push on the door and it wedges open. I push hard and I am able to get in. The apartment is filthy and cold. I enter and find Xavier's grandmother on the floor. She is cold and hardly breathing. I call 911 immediately, verify that she is alright and seek out Xavier. I enter a little room and discover Xavier, asleep. I touch him and he is burning-up. I take his shirt off, to cool him down. His breathing is harsh and I desperately need to get him to the hospital. I get out my small medical bag, and give him some paracetamol in another attempt to decrease his body temperature.
"Xavier, I am going to get you to the hospital but I am going to need you to fight," I prayed as I did what I could with the few medical supplies I had with me. I take his temperature and it's a shocking and dangerous 105 degrees. Consequently, I desperately need cool him down. I pick him up, holding him close and he is so limp. I fill the sink with tepid water and gently put Xavier in it.
An ambulance and paramedics arrive, taking both Xavier and his grandmother to the hospital. I follow the ambulance, noticing that it is now 6:00pm and I need to call Michael. I grab my cell, when I notice have missed several calls from him and my father. There is also a text message.
**Where are you? I am furious! Why did you leave without White? Your father and I are tracking you!**
I send him a quick text back.
**Something came up. On my way to the hospital with a patient. Do not worry about me. I am fine!**
I put my phone away and even though I want to ring Michael and explain, I don't know if I can explain myself, well enough. When we reach the hospital I enter with Xavier. Having worked at the hospital for over four years now, I am well known so no doctor or nurse questions me working on Xavier. I have him admitted to Peds, with an IV drip, to nourish him and an antibiotic drip, to fight infection. Additionally, I order an immediate set of X-rays of his chest. When they come back, my diagnosis is confirmed, Pneumonia. I escort Xavier to the Floor and ensure he is comfortable. I take some solace, knowing he is exactly where he needs to be.
"Don't worry Xavier, We will look after you. You are going to be perfectly fine. I promise you." I gently pat his back and know that I need to contact social services. He can't go back to that horrid apartment. I need to find him and his grandmother, somewhere else to live.
"Excuse me, but I am looking for my errant wife who has little regard for her own safety. Do you happen to know, where she is?" I hear Michael's voice behind me. I turn around and look at him. He looks furious at me.
"I am sorry, it's just I …" tears run down my face. Michael comes over to my and holds me.
"What on earth were you thinking? Do you realize that you could have been seriously injured? A young, sexy girl, in an expensive car, in one of the worst neighbourhoods in Seattle. Why did you go to that place? You have had everyone worried!" Michael is beyond furious and I know that the only reason he isn't yelling at me, is due to our location and the sick and sleeping child next to me.
"Don't be mad at me. I was just trying to make sure Xavier was okay and he really needed help. I am sorry about the way I did it, but not about what I did." Michael rubs his forehead, like he did when he was getting a headache or migraine.
"Phoebe, I can think of a thousand better ways that you could have helped this child and I am way beyond mad. Not only was I frantic when White rang me, but I have also had your father on the phone. And trust me, I have never heard him so upset and worried. He is at our house right now, waiting." Oh no not my father! I was hoping he wouldn't find out.
"So is this Xavier?" Michael's voice has softened now.
"Yes. He has pneumonia, but is on medication now. He should be fine, but things could have gone differently if he was left there in that apartment"
"He is beautiful child." Michael then moves his blanket, so Xavier's chest is covered. "Can I take you home?"
"Please. I am on the schedule at the hospital tomorrow and I can check on him, then," I reason. I bend down and kiss Xavier. "Sleep little man and get strong. I will see you, tomorrow"
We walk out and White is outside the hospital, waiting. I don't look him in the eyes. I know he probably had been given a reprimand, by my father. I get into the car with Michael, put my head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around me.
"I am still mad at you," he says, but at least now he is comforting me.
"I know. I am sorry," I tell him, pleading for him to forgive me. When we arrive home, I notice my father's car. "Maybe we should just go back to the hospital, rather than go inside," I tell Michael. He takes my hand and leads me inside.
Regardless of my age and the knowledge that there is very little my father can do, I was still scared of his temper. I know that he will be going thermonuclear, momentarily. Michael and I enter the house and there are my parents. I feel like a teenager who has been caught sneaking out of the house.
"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" my dad yells at me. Taylor is behind him and he looks at me impassively. How many more people are going to be mad at me tonight?
"Dad, please, lower your voice," I tell him. I go over and kiss my mother.
"Phoebe, are you alright?" my mother asks me, concerned.
"I think so," I tell her. I hug her tightly and she responds by hugging me even tighter. "Oh Mom, that little boy was so sick. He could have died if…." I tell her. She nods, understanding me. I hold her hand, as we both face my father and his anger.
"Why don't we go into the kitchen? Christian, Ana and Taylor will you join us for a dinner?" Michael asks.
I know he is still mad at me, but at least he is trying to calm my father down, along with Taylor. We find our housekeeper working diligently in the kitchen. I suspect she has been hiding out from my parents and Taylor. She quickly serves a dinner of Chicken Parmigiana and roasted vegetables. Michael pours four glasses of wine and one glass of water for Taylor, as he is on duty.
"Phoebe, I am waiting for your answer. What were you thinking, abandoning your security?" Dad asks, looking at me. His lips have formed a hard line and his eyes have narrowed.
"Dad, I had to do it. You have White in your pocket and there is no way he would have agreed to take me where I needed to go." My answer has little impact.
"And with good reason! Do you know the crime rate in that area? I am surprised your car was still there, when you got downstairs." Dad runs his hands through his hair and I put my fork down, as I have lost my appetite. "Eat your dinner!" Dad orders. It is like I am a child, all over again.
Michael grips my knee, as my anger builds. "Dad, I'm not sixteen anymore," I say, resting my forehand on my hand.
"Phoebe," Michael's voice is diplomatic and I know he is in advocacy mode. "You have to understand, that we were all very concerned when we found out that you had ditched security and took off. We were even more concerned when we learned of your whereabouts even though you had the best intentions and humanitarian concerns. We love you and do not want you getting hurt or putting yourself in danger. Never, EVER, do this again, and I mean it! NEVER again!"
"Yes, I understand," I say, throwing up both my hands.
"Tell us about this child. The one you went to see." My mother asks, looking at me sympathetically.
I proceed to tell them about how I met the baby on Christmas Day and Markinson's background check of the child. Then, I report that I diagnosed the baby, a couple of weeks ago and regale them with the events that led to today. My father doesn't give anything away but my mother nods. Michael holds my hand while I continue to tell my story. Neither my dad, my mom nor Taylor give their ten cents worth. An hour later, my parents decide to leave, somewhat calmer.
"Bye, Dad. I am sorry that I scared you, but it was for a good cause," I tell him as I kiss him goodbye. Dad is still visibly angry, but kisses me back. I go over to my mother, to say goodbye. Finally, I wave to Taylor, who is now by the car, waiting for them both.
"Michael, please keep my reckless daughter safe," my father commands.
"I am thinking of locking her up, to be honest," Michael says, stifling his laugh. He puts his arm around me and pulls me close to him. It takes a lot of effort not to roll my eyes, or make a comment.
"Not a bad idea and to be honest, if you don't put my daughter over your knee for her hasty and dangerous behavior tonight, then I certainly will," my dad says sternly, catching me off-guard. My mother smiles and giggles, for reasons I don't even want to think about, right now.
"Understood Christian. Have a pleasant evening. I will see you at Grey House, tomorrow." Michael responds.
I go upstairs and shower away the horrors of the day, while Michael calls Ted and Ava to tell them that I am fine. They have also heard about my antics this evening and I dread being chastised by both of them, also. After my shower, I put on a pale pink, satin camisole and lace panties. I just want to go to bed and sleep. When I enter the bedroom, I find Michael sitting on the couch in our bedroom.
"I have been waiting for you Mrs. Fuller," he says seductively. His voice is full of anticipation and domination. He stands up, places his hand behind my head, possesses my mouth and with his other hand pulls me closer. I feel our shared electricity and all the stress of today seems to be replaced by desire. This is exactly what I needed, Michael's passion and longing.
"I should be reckless more often, if this is the reception I get."
"Your brother and cousin are rather upset at you. They said they will call you tomorrow," He informs me. I roll my eyes at the thought.
"So, only you, my parents, Taylor, security, Ted and Ava are upset? Why not my Grandparents and Aunt Mia and Aunt Kate? Or, do I need to try harder next time?" I say sarcastically.
"Your grandparents don't know about tonight's events. No one wants your grandfather to have another heart attack. Your Aunt Mia and Uncle Ethan were with your grandparents, so they don't know, as a result. Your Aunt Kate, well let's face it, she is so feisty that she would have been over here and still yelling at you."
I decide to ignore Michael's over exaggerated comments. I know I have stressed him this evening and I need to do something to relax him. I start to undo Michael belt, then proceed to his pants.
"Not too fast there," he tells me, sternly. I look at him, confused. "I think your father told me that if I didn't put you over my knee, for your act of craziness, then he would. Since you are wearing my wedding ring, then I think this responsibility falls on me," Michael's voice is seductively assertive.
"Michael, don't be silly. I am not a child. You can't spank me to punish me, though we could play," I tell him. I start to kiss his neck, but Michael takes my hand and shakes his head. In one swift move, I find myself over his knee.
"I know you are not a child, Phoebe, but you were very foolish today. You scared a lot of people, who love you very, very much. I am going to spank you and then I am going to take you. Do you understand?" Michael is terribly uncompromising, right now.
"Yes," I say softly. I am pinned down and I can't move.
The first spank comes down quickly. It is harder than he has ever spanked me. The second, third and fourth hits, come in quick succession. I wince at the pain. Michael kneads and rubs between each of the next six. When he is finished, he stands me up and kisses me passionately, with intense longing. He tugs at my camisole and pulls it off me, so that I stand completely naked in front of him. Michael steps back and sits on the bed. He looks at me, running his finger across his lips. I look down and see his excitement, struggling to push out of his pants.
I move towards Michael and sit on him. I undo his shirt and push him down on the bed, taking the dominating role now. "Now, I have the upper hand. What should I do to you?" Michael laughs at my nerve. I know he outweighs me and is far stronger than me. He could easily flip me over, regaining the upper hand.
"Down!" he says simply and that is all he needs to say. As a result, I pull off his pants and boxer shorts, taking him in my mouth. I suck him hard, taking him as deeply as I can.
"STOP! PHOEBE!" Michael calls out and I obey. He grabs me, so I am now on all fours, with my backside in the air. "Your backside is a lovely, rosy color." Michael then enters me and moves quickly. My body is full of sensation and my climax rips through me. As I tighten around Michael, he too, finds his release.
Afterwards, I lie on the bed close to Michael. I run my hands over his back, feeling safe in his arms. Closing my eyes, I fall asleep, knowing that I will always have him next to me.
The next day, I wake up feeling much better. I know that my family will still be upset with me, but by now, they would have all calmed down some. But most of all, I know that Xavier will be safe in the hospital, getting the treatment he so desperately needs.
White drives me to the hospital and before I get there, I receive an email from my father.
To: Phoebe Grey-Fuller
From: Christian Grey
Subject: remember that bubble you once mentioned?
Last night, I actually considered that I should have put you in that bubble, you once joked about on your sixteenth birthday. Do not do anything that will put your life in danger again, or you will really see my anger.
Should you feel the need for extreme humanitarian action today, then please ask for my help. I can be rather resourceful!
Love you so much,
Still over-protective but loving father, CEO of GEH, Inc.
To: Christian Grey
From: Phoebe Grey-Fuller
Subject: Bubbles burst though
I love you too, always. I promise that I will not repeat last night's adventure.
Phoebe Grey-Fuller, MD
Once my shift starts, I report to the desk, to get today's schedule. However, my first agenda item is reviewing Xavier's case. As I head towards his room, I am met by Sonia from Social Services.
"Phoebe, I hear you had an adventurous night," Sonia says smiling.
"You could say that. I was actually heading to see my star patient." Sonia's face drops at my comment. "What is wrong?"
Sonia frowns and looks distraught.
Two years in the future, Dr Flynn's office:
"So Dr. Flynn, this is the turning point, when my life really began to change...
Authors Note: I really hope you are enjoying this story. More comes out in the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing. It really means a lot to us writes as itr gives us insight to what you are thinking about each chapter and the story line. Please review this chapter as it has a rather specific story line right now that I am worried that it is going to be dull or one sided. Please let me know.
Again many thanks to Jasmine Garden who works so hard as my beta! I only wish she didn't live in America and I in Australia.