Author's Note: Ok, so I have decided on doing a little fic on the swell TV show about Army Special Forces, "The Unit." I own nothing except a couple original characters, enjoy and review. Reviews and suggestions are always helpful!
1.
So there I was, hunched over the toilet for what had to be the third time that night, sick to my stomach and nauseous, while my younger sister watched me with utter distaste. My younger sister who was keeping my secret, or at least one of them.
She handed me a wet facecloth, "How many more times are you going to do that tonight? People might start getting suspicious."
Had I been able to breath normally I would have swore at her, or told her I'd work harder on controlling the pregnancy hormones. But I couldn't do more then gasp for air. I wiped my mouth with the cool rag and sagged down on the floor. Praying it was clean.
If it wasn't my designer black pants were going to suffer, the same pants I had paid extra money for since they were supposed to hide the slight bump. I was only two months along and not quite showing.
"Do you want some water?"
I shook my head. I was not eating or drinking anything else for the rest of the evening. I'd learned my lesson. Damn hormones.
Her hand fell on my shoulder and she knelt down at my side. Looking nothing like me even though we shared a father. Her hair blonde mine was brownish gold, my eyes were chocolate and her's were green with golden flecks, she had freckles and I was pale as snow. "To think you did this willingly to yourself," she mumbled and I laughed, it came out a gasp but I had a large smile on my face. Which made her smile and that was worth it.
She fidgeted to get comfortable in her pumps, "We still have three hours here, we'll need some sort of story as to why you're throwing up everything."
All I could do was nod as I fought to regain my breath. I licked my lips and gasped, "Gum." Sarah had gum on her at all times. She reached into her pocket, unwrapped the foil wrapper, and then handed me the minty goodness. I hung over the toilet and chewed like there was no tomorrow.
She made a face and then turned her head. I listened too. Someone was in the bedroom that was attached to the bathroom I had found. Sarah stood and marched over to the door in some impressive heels. She whipped that door open and demanded of someone, "Can I help you?" The tone she used would have made Hitler look hesitate.
I listened and took deep steady breaths. Just breath…breath, I was a nurse, a little sickness was not unusual for pregnant women.
Someone, a male, hesitated and then asked, "I'm looking for a Victoria Wilkes…someone said she was back here."
"And just who wants to know?"
Atta girl Sarah, she should be studying law or criminal justice, she was such a little pit-bull.
"She left the lights on in her car. If you want I'll go turn them off."
Sarah peeked her head in and I immediately shook my head. I pushed myself up and checked myself in the mirror. Pixie haircut looked fine, dangly earrings still in, the red wrap was still in place and hiding my bump. I was good to go. My heels clicked on the tile floor and I walked out, patting Sarah on her little butt.
The man was young and looked harmless, in that choirboy next door way. Complete with perfect teeth, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a nice Christmas tree sweater. Perfect ensemble for a Christmas party.
There was no way I had left my car lights on and a slimmer chance I was letting him in it. First off, I didn't have a car, I had a massive SUV that could run over mere cars. Secondly, I was under orders to be on alert, be vigilant. The father of my baby had told me security had been breached at base. Nothing he could tell me about, but something serious enough to warrant a warning to wives and girlfriends of his men.
But as I passed Mr. Helpful I thanked him. Leaving him in the claws of my sister and headed out into the annual Christmas Party put on by my stepmother's mother.
"Victoria! Come here and taste this," my stepmother called, martini in hand. She was the type of woman everyone loved. You couldn't hate her if you tried.
Needing to get away from the watchful eyes of Mr. Perfect I scooted over to her. Mr. Perfect was probably not a security issue, but, he sent my sixth sense into overdrive. He wasn't following me around cause he liked my spiffy heels.
"Try this, Norma made it."
I eyed what looked like some sort of seafood roll. Not what I was going to eat while with child. Plus it smelled and a wave of nausea swept through me. Immediately and quite vigorously I shook my head, "No thank you, I had some bad clams earlier today and my stomach doesn't quite agree with me."
Sympathetically, my stepmother placed a cool hand on my forehead. The saint was a teacher. Like she could render me medical aide. "Why don't I go pour you some Gin and Tonic?"
Oh yeah, that's exactly what I needed.
"You know I don't drink," I smiled, holding a hand on my stomach, praying to God my tiny child would get the hint, and call the hormones to call down.
With a cock of her perfect freckled face, she frowned, "Why don't you go lie down in the guest bedroom. You look pale."
Ah, yes, I probably looked paler then usual.
My eyes looked around and fell upon Mr. Perfect and my father. Good, my father was as ill informed as my stepmother as to what I had been up to. He'd be really helpful if he were being milked for information.
I needed to get away from Norma's shrimp. Where would I go? As I pondered that question the thin phone in my pant's pocket began to vibrate. I pulled that baby out like it was a plutonium bomb and looked at the caller id.
Charles.
It was my companion and father of my child. The man I had spent the last two years of my life living with. Living in sin with if my stepmothers mother ever found out, the only few family members I had left, excluding my wonderful stepfather.
"Excuse me," I smiled and stepped away from the small circle gathered for discussion on Norma's shrimp. Fascinating as it was, I put the phone to my ear and headed into the mass of people in horrible looking holiday clothing.
"Yes my love, you rang?"
Wherever he was was just as noisy as where I was, "Baby, where are you at?"
"Christmas party, why? Did you get off work early?"
Who knew, he ignored my question. "Are you near a fax machine?"
In a minute I would be. I smiled and begged pardon and made my way through the crowded living room, down the hall and into the office of my stepmother's mother, or Stalin. "I am now, do you need the number?" I locked the door behind me and flipped the light on. Computer equipment and a wall-to-wall shelving collection of teddy bears looked back at me.
"Yes. Baby, I'm sending you two pictures. Tell me if you recognize them from anywhere, this is extremely important. Then shred the pictures. Ok?"
"Gotcha," I answered and then read the number of the fax off to him. Written so helpfully on the wall, next to other important numbers. Once done I plopped down in a rolling computer chair and put my sore feet up. Then came his voice over the phone, "I thought you weren't feeling well."
Casually I replied, unable to lie to him, "I'm not. But pain is weakness leaving the body, right?"
Mere feet away the fax machine began to make noise. He sighed and informed me, "The Marines are insane, you know that, right?"
"Umhmm," was my answer, he was seriously one to talk.
The first page was half done and I needed a foot massage, a good one. Heels had to have been made by a man without nerve endings in his feet.
"Are you alone?"
"Yes," I sighed, and the added for good measure, "Alone in a locked room. My father is your colonel, I am aware of how things work, darling." That just got me a sigh and a soft laugh. The fax machine buzzed and spat out a piece of paper. My feet protested, so I'd wait for the second one to come through.
"When are you coming home?"
How a grown man could become so clingy was a mystery to me. It probably had something to do with the little baby growing inside me. Which had turned the manliest man I knew into a basket of nerves. "When Sarah and I can get away. If you need company there are dozens of Army Groupies off-base, they'd love your company."
Silence followed that and I watched the second sheet come through, woohoo. I pushed off the desk with my feet as he gave me a verbal tongue-lashing, and managed to snatch the papers without getting out of my chair. Damn I was good. The chair slowed to a stop before it came to the wall. I never noticed, I was staring in utter disbelief at the black and white mugshot that stared back at me. Cell phone fell from my shoulder and onto the floor.
The wanted poster had half the writing blacked out. But I knew the man. I had had a restraining order out on him for the past two years. A restraining order the judge had just decided not to re-issue.
Wasn't that just perfect?