Rating: PG

Characters: Adam, Jessica Angell

Summary: Adam has Jessica over for dinner, though she finds out a bit more about him than she bargained for...

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! All belongs to CBS! The only thing here that's mine is the fic.

They walked over to the table and sat at either end. For the next few hours, they chatted about a number of topics that ranged from work to friends to how neither Jessica nor Adam had ever been to a Ranger’s hockey game and how they were going to rectify that sometime in the near future. During that time, Jessica noticed the lab tech relaxing more and more, becoming noticeably more easygoing and flirtatious. As they finished, Jessica helped Adam clear the table.

Then, tragedy struck.

A half-way empty glass of red wine tipped as Jessica handed it to Adam, spilling its contents all over his shirt. 

“Oh! Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry.” she quickly looked around for a towel before spotting one on the counter. Grabbing it, she tried to wipe the crimson stain away...only to find red streaks where she had used the towel...since it just happened to be the same towel Adam had wiped his hands on earlier when some of the sauce had gotten onto him. Realizing the mistake, she began to blush with embarrassment. Adam’s chivalrous streak kicked in before he realized it.

“Hey, it’s ok,” he said, trying to laugh it off, “It’s nothing a little sodium hypochlorite can’t fix.” 

Jessica glanced at him, unsure of what that was.

“Ah, bleach. I meant bleach.”

She nodded. “I’m really sorry, Adam--” she began again.

He put up his hand to stop her, “No, really, it’s ok,” he quirked what he hoped was a reassuring smile at her, “Just gimmie a sec and I’ll change into another shirt.”

He walked off into his room, closing the door not quite all the way while he pulled off his shirt with a sigh; it was one of his nicer shirts and he’d have to clean it up later. He was contemplating what to put on (do I have anything clean??) when Jessica abruptly walked in holding yet another stray sock. 

“Missing one?” she mused, a playful smile on her lips that faltered when she saw Adam freeze and stare at her with a look that was equal parts panic and embarrassment.

“Oh...Adam, uh...”

Jessica had never seen Adam with his shirt off before; hell, she’d never seen him without a lab coat before. If you’d asked her about her reaction, she would’ve told you that, honestly, she didn’t know what to expect. Certainly not the same nerdy, shy, sweet lab tech she knew covered with scars that she had only ever seen on street fighters and war vets. 

Adam turned away from her, but he could feel her liquid brown eyes sliding over the scars on his back. He bit his lip as he found a suitable shirt to put on. He heard soft footsteps in the room, smelled her perfume as she padded closer. A gray sock appeared to his right held by a smooth hand.

“Here,” Jessica quietly said. Adam smiled weakly as he took it from her. An awkward silenced passed between them. Jessica cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude...I’ll be outside.” A hand caught hers as she turned to go.

“No--” Adam began off of Jessica’s surprised face, “I mean, you don’t have to...I mean...you’ll probably see them anyway, so...not that that’s what we’re gonna do, but, um.....” his voice trailed off.

Jessica softened at his vulnerability. She looked down at his marred chest.

“Are these from your dad?” she quietly asked.

Adam nodded dumbly. He pointed to a curved gash on his back shoulder. “That was from a broken bottle,” his finger trailed down to several smaller circular wounds, “those were from cigarette butts,” Jessica watched as he pointed out several more with a quiet sadness. 

“Are all of these scars from bad memories?” she said, looking up at him.

Adam slowly nodded. “Well, I can’t think of any good ones connected with them.”

Jessica looked down at his chest to see a particularly nasty gash on his shoulder and gently ran her fingers over it. She felt Adam shiver under her touch.

“What about this one?” came the quiet query.

Adam cleared his throat, the detective’s soft, cool hands scattering his thoughts. 

“That, um, th-that one was...ah...from his belt buckle...he wanted to make sure I learned not to butt into conversations...”

Without warning, she leaned into his chest and kissed the scar. She heard a sharp breath, felt the sudden rise of his chest beneath her palm. Dark eyes looked up into Adam’s trembling blue, watching the old memory fall away.

“How about now?” Jessica asked.

Adam paused for a moment before he let his lips answer her.

Before the night was done, each scar that had so long born silent testimony to things better left forgotten now became a permanent reminder of a gentle caress and a loving kiss.

Adam let out a sigh as he happily shut his locker. He hummed to himself as he walked, not necessarily in tune, but with an excitement that indicated that something was definitely up. As he strode out of the building onto the street, he began to mentally run through the list of things he needed to pick up before he got home: a few groceries here, a bouquet of rose there, a bottle of wine--a little pricey, but he was feeling pretty good tonight--all the while not quite bouncing, skipping, hopping or dancing, but moving with a precarious combination of all four as his red head bobbed in and out of the the Friday night New York foot traffic. Adam glanced down at his watch; he had three hours still to get everything ready before she came by his apartment. Three hours to make sure that everything was ready for an amazing evening with an amazing woman; easy as pie.

Easy as pie from hell. Adam rushed around his apartment, picking up a stray sock he missed the first time, throwing out an old chinese food box, casting a furtive glance upwards at the clock on the oven (why do I do that? WHY?!?). He was running horribly late and she would be there in less than an hour. Nervous hands raked through wild hair, taking a moment to survey his surroundings. The apartment was presentable; at least it wasn’t the horrible rats nest it was earlier. The roses were in a glass vase on the table with two tall white candles on either side. He walked over to the bathroom for one quick once-over; he’d been able to tame his hair some, but parts of it still stuck out at odd angles (nothing a little gel can’t fix. Well, maybe she likes the bed-head loo...NO, BAD ADAM!!); he’d changed into a clean, white dress shirt and a pair of dark slacks--nothing fancy, but definitely not his usual jeans and shirt style. He started to check his tongue when he was reminded that dinner wasn’t finished. Two seconds later, he was back in the kitchen, desperately trying to finish the chicken parmesan while keeping himself clean. Just as he pulled the pan off of the heat, three soft knocks came at the door. Quickly putting the pan down and wiping his hands (OH, not on the pants! Towel, towel, I need a towel...), Adam walked out of the kitchen, paused a moment to give himself one last quick once-over, and opened the door. 

All of his previous frustrations melted away when he saw Jessica Angell standing outside his door. The detective was a vision of sultry beauty in her knee-length v-neck black dress. Her hair hung loose cascading down past her shoulders, perfectly framing her smiling face. A simple necklace and small earrings added golden accents to her olive skin. It was all Adam could do to not stand there with his mouth gaping open.

It was also all Jessica could do to not giggle at him. She knew he was a bit sensitive about his looks and mannerisms, but sometimes it just couldn’t be helped...especially now as he stood gaping at her. The detective wasn’t sure why that look always struck her funny, but it did. She smiled as she held up a crock pot wrapped in towels like an offering. 

“I hope you like cobbler; it was the only thing I had time to make. Thank God for crock pots.”

Adam, remembering himself, closed his mouth and took the pot out of the detective’s hands (soft hands...). A quirky smile broke out on his face.

“Yeah, cobbler’s...cobbler’s great. I, uh, I like cobbler...” He turned away to set the pot down on the kitchen counter. “I hope you like chicken parmesan. It’s one of a handful of things I can actually make well.”

Jessica gave him a gracious smile (how can someone so nice make you so nervous?). 

“Chicken parmesan sounds good to me.”

“Yeah? I mean, good, ah, ‘cause chicken’s...what’s for dinner...” He coughed as his face turned slightly red (oh yeah, smooth operator here...). 

Jessica observed the lab tech. It didn’t take a seasoned detective to see that the guy was nervous. She walked over to the kitchen counter and leaned against it, giving what she hoped was a sympathetic glance.

“Has it been a while since you last dated?” she asked.

“No! Er, I mean, not that long...well, maybe it’s been a little while...I mean, I haven’t really had a serious date since...uh...since...” Adam furrowed his brow for a minute, thinking, before waving the thought away, “But, that’s not why I’m nervous.”

Jessica raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Oh? Why, then?”

Adam chewed on his lip for a minute, choosing his words. “Well, it’s you.”

The detective gave a confused look.

“Oh, no, no! It’s not the bad ‘it’s you’, it’s the good one. I mean,” he began to wave and gesticulate wildly about as if to illustrate the difference, pacing as he went on, “its you here, with me...having dinner, and, ah, you looking very nice and, um...” his motions began to slow down, “and you’re here with me and I used to think about you being here with me, but...” he gave up moving and stood there, sheepish with his hand behind his neck, “I guess I just never expected you to actually be here with me.”

Jessica smiled, closing the space between them. “Why wouldn’t you ever expect it?”

Adam gazed at her eyes for a beat before turning away, coughing uncomfortably. 

“Ah, well...you’re beautiful, smart, pretty strong,” he let out a short laugh before turning back to face her, “you could pretty much pick any guy you wanted.”

Jessica blushed and slid her arms up around his neck. 

“And I picked you.” came the simple reply. She felt Adam’s body relax, some of the tension released. He quirked a shy smile down to her.

“So, ah...are you hungry?” he asked.

She nodded. “Let’s try Ross’ Famous Parmesan Chicken.”

Adam laughed at that. “Well, it might be more ‘Infamous’ than anything else. I did have to rush it a little.”

They walked over to the table and sat at either end. For the next few hours, they chatted about a number of topics that ranged from work to friends to how neither Jessica nor Adam had ever been to a Ranger’s hockey game and how they were going to rectify that sometime in the near future. During that time, Jessica noticed the lab tech relaxing more and more, becoming noticeably more easygoing and flirtatious. As they finished, Jessica helped Adam clear the table.

Then, tragedy struck.

Adam let out a sigh as he happily shut his locker. He hummed to himself as he walked, not necessarily in tune, but with an excitement that indicated that something was definitely up. As he strode out of the building onto the street, he began to mentally run through the list of things he needed to pick up before he got home: a few groceries here, a bouquet of rose there, a bottle of wine--a little pricey, but he was feeling pretty good tonight--all the while not quite bouncing, skipping, hopping or dancing, but moving with a confusing combination of all four as his red head bobbed in and out the the Friday night New York foot traffic. Adam glanced down at his watch; he had three hours still to get everything ready before she came by his apartment. Three hours to make sure that everything was ready for an amazing evening with an amazing woman; easy as pie.

Easy as pie from hell. Adam rushed around his apartment, picking up a stray sock he missed the first time, throwing out an old chinese food box, casting a furtive glance upwards at the clock on the oven (why do I do that? WHY?!?). He was running horribly late and she would be there in half an hour. Nervous hands raked through wild hair, taking a moment to survey his surroundings. The apartment was presentable; at least it wasn’t the horrible rats nest it was earlier. The roses were in a glass vase on the table with two tall white candles on either side. He walked over to the bathroom for one quick once-over; he’d been able to tame his hair some, but parts of it still stuck out at odd angles (nothing a little gel can’t fix. Well, maybe she likes the bed-head loo...NO, BAD ADAM!!); he’d changed into a clean, white dress shirt and a pair of dark slacks--nothing fancy, but definitely not his usual jeans and shirt style. He started to check his tongue when he was reminded that dinner wasn’t even done yet. Two seconds later, he was back in the kitchen, desperately trying to finish the chicken parmesan while keeping himself clean. Just as he pulled the pan off of the heat, three soft knocks came at the door. Quickly putting the pan down and wiping his hands (OH, not on the pants! Towel, towel, I need a towel...), Adam walked out of the kitchen, paused a moment to give himself one last quick once-over, and opened the door. 

Jacob snorted and rolled his eyes. Oh, boy.

Adam snorted back. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter. You're here now. You obviously had something important to say or you wouldn't have bothered to find me."

My son, the detective.

"It's about your liver cancer, right?"

Jacob snapped his head towards him. How the hell did he know that?

Adam nodded. "I guess mom was right when she said your drinking would catch up with you someday. I found out from your doctor a few days ago. It's bad, but not so advanced that you can't beat it. But, you've missed your last few appointments to deal with 'family business'," he gave his father a concerned glance, his voice softened by worry, "Dad, you can't afford to miss your treatments."

The old man sighed, defiant, but tired.

His son continued.

"I also came because...well, I wasn't sure I'd have time later...you know, in case..." his voice trailed off.

Jacob nodded.  I know.

"So, I just wanted to tell you....that you're still the biggest jackass I know."

Jacob snorted. I could've told you that.

"10 years and a divorce doesn't change or erase what you did to mom, to my brothers and sisters, or to me."

I know.

"There's a part of me that can't forgive and forget; that wants me to say how much I hate you and that you can go and burn in hell for all I care."

Title: One Man

Characters: Adam and Officer Barry McCullen, with Mac and Stella mentioned

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1402

Warnings: none

Summary: Adam reflects on the badge. Set during “Enough”.

Note: Officer Barry McCullen is a purely fan-made character who doesn’t exist in the show. You guys are free to use him if you like, just let me know (cuz I’d like to read it!).

I just finished watching the first episode of Ducktales on youtube. Oh dear, I remember watching that episode. I thought it was the coolest thing then....good times. Lookit me, I'm barely in my 20's and I'm already getting nostolgia. It's funny and sad at the same time. Those old cartoons make me so happy.

And you know what's worse? A lot of them are better than the crappy ones they're turning out today.