Checkmate

It wasn’t.

“No, you’re going to have to take me,” she said, shifting.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you’ll have to wait for a female officer.”

“I am nine months pregnant with a boy whose idea of fun is to play kick ball with my bladder and you really think that I can wait?” she demanded and he knew that if there wasn’t a set of bars separating them that she’d be kicking the shit out of the officer’s shin right now.

Connor stood up and joined his wife at the bars. “Just let her out. She doesn’t need to be in here. Have someone take her home and I’ll stay.”

“How in the hell is that going to work?” Rory demanded, turning a murderous glare on him and he knew that the hormones had taken over once again.

Yup, pregnancy was a f**king blast.

“I need help getting up the stairs and with Andrew in Boston, there won’t be anyone to help me!” she snapped and he really wished at that moment that Andrew had stayed home. Eleven months ago Andrew bought his old house so that Connor didn’t have to watch it go to strangers and it had been the best decision that any of them had ever made. Rory and Andrew still liked to give each other shit, but they’d grown very close over the past couple of months. He went out of his way to help Rory out whenever he was home. He was very protective of her. She’d saved his life after all and was always there for him.

“Well, I-“

“All I want to do is to use the bathroom and maybe get a snack and he,” she said, gesturing to the stunned officer, “won’t let me and now you’re willing to stay in jail just to get away from me!” she sobbed just as the first tear entered the picture and he knew, just knew that she was going to go for his balls this time.

For years he’d wished that she’d act more like a girl and cry a few tears and now he was getting that and more. She cried at everything and he meant everything. If he got her a cup of cocoa, she cried. If he told her that he loved her, she cried. If Bunny did something cute, she cried. If the mail was five minutes late, she cried. He could not wait for his sane, normal, happy wife to return to him. God, he missed her.

When she buried her face in her hands and sobbed loudly, he threw the bastard keeping him locked up with her a murderous glare. The crying didn’t stop, oh no, it got worse and soon the officer was fumbling with his keys and couldn’t open the cell fast enough.

“You know what? You can both go home. I’ll talk to my sergeant. You don’t need to be here and I’m sure you can clear this whole misunderstanding up with the school board tomorrow,” the officer said, opening the door and gesturing for them to leave, looking close to begging them to go.

“Are you sure?” he asked as Rory somehow managed to sob louder.

“Yes!”

“Thank you,” he said, comforting Rory as he guided her out of the cell, but the poor thing was still pretty upset and wouldn’t stop crying. She didn’t stop crying while they were being signed out, handed their personal items, or when they walked out of the building. He was at a loss at what to do by the time he helped her in the truck.

As he walked around the truck to the driver’s side, he resigned himself to a night of sitting in the damn nursery that he’d built her so that she could gush over every little sock, diaper and teddy bear just to make her happy. He took a deep breath before he opened the door, climbed in, and started the truck. It wasn’t until he pulled out the parking lot that he realized that his wife was no longer making rather frightening sobbing noises.

“Do you think that we could stop at Roy’s Dinner on the way home? I have a craving for their apple pie and hot cocoa,” Rory said, sounding chipper and scaring the shit out of him.

“You want to stop and get pie?” he asked, cautiously, knowing that the wrong tone could get him killed.

“Mmmhmm,” she said, nodding as she reached over and started playing with the radio.

“Okay………..,” he said, not really sure how to proceed so he went with a safe question, or at least what he hoped was a safe question. “Do you need to use the bathroom?”

“No,” she simply said with a shrug.

“No?”

“No, I’m good,” she said, shooting him a sweet smile.

“Then what was all that back at the jail?” he asked, wondering if her hormones were starting to make him go crazy.

“I had a craving for pie,” she said with another shrug as she settled back in her seat.

He pulled to a stop at the light and for a moment he could only stare at her in wonder. “You did all that for pie?”

“And cocoa,” she clarified with a nod.

He laughed, he couldn’t help it.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, reaching over to hold his hand.

“You are a dangerous woman, Mrs. O’Neil.”

“And don’t you forget it, Mr. O’Neil," she said teasingly.

“Or what?” he asked, raising their entwined hands so that he could press a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Or I’ll go for my pliers,” she promised, making him smile, because he knew damn well that she would. She didn’t take any of his shit, drove him out of his mind and he loved every single minute of it.