Sophie was bored. Really bored. So bored that boring people would have found her entire existence boring. So, she decided, someone would have to take her bloated, waddling, miserable body and heave it into a vehicle and take her somewhere – anywhere – just for a change of scene.
So to this end, she tackled her team and informed them politely but firmly, that they would be taking her out on the following Sunday for a drive, just to get her heavily-pregnant carcass out into the fresh air. She wanted company, she wanted feeding, and she wanted entertainment, just as long as it didn't include her actually having to do anything.
Her three so-called friends and the husband who had got her into this mess in the first place looked at one another.
Every single one of them had plans for Sunday. Parker was heading off up a skyscraper somewhere, Hardison had an on-line 24-hour session of World of Warcraft set up with his strange little friends, none of whom he had ever actually met, and Nate and Eliot were watching football. Which, for Sophie, meant being completely ignored. Sophie Devereaux Ford didn't take kindly to being ignored.
She had just over two weeks to go to her due date, and she wanted to make the most of what little time she had left before her life ended and became someone else's. Not that she objected to Bump, but she did miss her previous life more than a little bit.
So she didn't give a goddamn that Parker wouldn't get to fling herself off some poxy skyscraper, that Hardison would have to disappoint his weird troll-loving pals, and she especially didn't care that Nate and Eliot, both sports fiends, would miss a game that wasn't even proper bloody football.
She could tell from the looks of despair they gave one another that she had won. Well, that was a given. She was pregnant, and pregnant women got what they wanted because Sophie, already an actress – good or otherwise – could turn on the tears at the drop of a hat, and teary pregnant women could blame hormones and get away with it. And Sophie, always the grifter, was happy to finagle her own way whenever she could.
Eliot, mourning the loss of his Sunday game, reluctantly mentioned there was a farmer's market in Astoria the following Sunday, the last market before they halted for the winter. There were stalls of locally produced food, lots of nice places to eat, and there was always live music.
"It's a four-hour round trip though, Soph. Will you an' Bump be okay?" he asked, desperately hoping she would say that it would be too much for her.
"Of course we'll be okay, Eliot!" Sophie scoffed, "what do you think I am? Some sort of wilting lily? I want a day out, people!"
Eliot's heart sank. Nate rested a hand on his good shoulder in sympathy, careful not to hurt the man. Eliot was still somewhat sore and stiff, even long weeks after being injured, and the hole in his left shoulder had been slow to heal.
"I'll get Hardison to record the game," Nate whispered. "Then all we have to do is avoid hearing the score."
"You really think that's gonna work, Nate? Well, do ya?" Eliot hissed, glaring at Parker who was sitting glumly staring into space. She was already missing her skyscraper. "Remember the last time we tried that?"
Nate winced.
Unfortunately, Parker hadn't understood why it was so important not to find out the score before Nate and Eliot could see the game. Surely, she thought, it was better just to find out without having to sit for hours getting all shouty and critical and argumentative.
Eliot had spent a very frustrating and pointless thirty minutes trying to explain to Parker why it was fun to get all shouty and critical and argumentative while watching the game. But looking at the genuinely confused expression on her elfin face, Eliot had realised that she really, really didn't get it, and letting out a growl of pure helpless rage, he had stalked outside to the alley behind the brewpub and spent an equally fruitless ten minutes hurling abuse at a dumpster.
Eliot saw the angst on Nate's face.
"Yeah, man. Good luck with that one," he added dryly.
So Sophie was not to be denied. A day out she demanded, and a day out was what she was going to get. They were screwed.
The Grand Day Out turned out to be not so bad after all.
They all decided on an early morning start, and Sophie was soon settled into her favourite seat in Lucille, a large, leather-upholstered fixed chair with a footrest where she could sit in comfort and peer out of the window, keep an eye on everyone and generally be the centre of attention.
As Hardison skilfully drove Lucille along the highway, following the beauty of the landscape along the Columbia River, Sophie sighed happily. She watched the scenery pass by through the window and absorbed the presence of Nate, sprawled beside her on the sofa bed, working on a crossword. Behind her she heard the constant banter of the three younger members of the team … Hardison's constant prattle, Parker's snorky laugh and Eliot's gruff, warm voice teasing the crap out of both of them, his raspy chuckle making Sophie smile.
Even Bump was dozing, lying quiet and snug, and in a while, Sophie drifted into a light sleep, secure and safe with her people around her.
Astoria turned out to be exactly what Sophie needed. The day was cold and dank with the scent of rain in the air, but it didn't dampen their growing enthusiasm. The historic, elegant buildings, the excellent restaurant where they all enjoyed a delicious meal – and where the owner arrived to welcome Eliot and to make sure they had the best of everything – and after eating, Nate found somewhere comfortable for them both to sit and people-watch while Eliot haggled for bargains in the food market. He spent the afternoon happily trying samples and discussing the mysterious benefits of different varieties of tomato. Parker and Hardison just wandered through the market, pushing each other around like teenagers and giggling.
They had a blast.
The first spots of rain began to fall when they all assembled at Lucille, and as Sophie lowered herself gingerly into her chair, she winced.
"Ohhh, my back," she complained.
Eliot frowned, his Plan instantly coming to the forefront of his mind. He quickly sifted through possibilities and indications of labour.
"You okay, Soph? No twinges?"
Sophie shook her head.
"No, nothing like that. Just a drag in my back." She smiled apologetically. "I think maybe you were right, Eliot. I just overdid it."
Within minutes Eliot had a couple of heat pads warmed in their big microwave – always handy on stakeouts – and Sophie sighed with relief as Nate anxiously placed them at the small of her back. She patted his arm in thanks, and everyone relaxed.
"Just take it easy, Sophie, promise me," Nate whispered.
She smiled at him, and it felt as though he'd been handed a diamond.
"I will," she said. "We will." She patted Bump.
"Okay, people, you all ready to go home? Rain's getting' nasty an' I want to get home before dark. Lucille's a great gal, but she don't like too much heavy rain on the asphalt," Hardison said, heading for the driver's seat. "Sophie? You alright to travel?"
Sophie waved her hand dismissively.
"Go, Hardison! I'm fine!"
Hardison gave a toothy grin. If they got back to Portland in a couple of hours, he might just manage the second half of his orc-fest.
Within minutes, they were easing through building traffic, heading into lowering, heavy clouds and increasing rainfall, the roads already glistening with water.
Eliot slumped down in one of the other chairs and kept a weather eye out for Sophie, while Nate settled down beside his wife. The hitter was a little wary, cautious, but in all honesty, he realised it was probably his dratted 'Spidey-sense' kicking in. Sophie was close to her delivery date, and Eliot's edginess was getting worse by the day. He had no idea how Nate was keeping it together – it was his wife and child, after all. Eliot was an outsider … not even proper family, really, no matter that it felt like family.
He was so deep in his thoughts that he started when he felt a touch on his arm, and he looked up.
Parker stood there, a couple of heat pads in her hands. She narrowed her eyes in a frown.
"Here." She waved the heat pads at him. "Shoulder. You look sore." And before Eliot could react, she eased one behind his bad shoulder where the exit wound was, and lodged the soft pad between Eliot and the seat. She shoved the other pad into his good hand and grabbing his wrist, pushed the hand and pad upward until it rested on his shoulder just below the collar bone, where the ugly, partly-healed scar of the entry wound lay. Patting Eliot's hand, she smiled. "Better?"
Eliot couldn't stop the amusement from creeping into his voice.
"Yeah, darlin'. Thanks. Helps a lot." He wasn't lying – the heat permeated his shoulder, warming and soothing the ache there. It was bliss.
After that, everyone settled down for an hour, and the journey became one of those nice, easy moments in time when the aftermath of a pleasurable, restful day turned into one of cosy relaxation, murmured conversations and the occasional nap.
The heat of the pads on his shoulder and the pleasant weariness of a day well-spent lulled Eliot into a light doze, and his stocky frame was rocking gently to the movement of Lucille as she trundled along the highway, the gentle purr of her big engine thrumming through his mind. He was on the point of dropping into a deeper sleep when Sophie's voice made him blink into consciousness in an instant.
"Eliot?"
Eliot, wide awake in less than a second, heard the controlled fear in her voice. He winced as the sudden movement made his shoulder twinge, but he slipped off the seat and was beside Sophie in a moment, sliding down onto his knees, the heat pads tumbling unheeded to the floor.
Sophie was rigid in her seat, brown eyes huge in her face, and her hands cupped her stomach.
Eliot glanced over to Nate. The man was sound asleep.
"Don't wake him. Not yet," Sophie whispered.
Eliot took in Sophie's stance and tension, and he could see her hands clutch gently at her belly. His mind went into high gear. He brought up in rapid order every plan, every route and every contingency he had in place, and dismissed them equally quickly because not one of the goddamn things fitted the present situation. Okay – he'd think on his feet. Jeez.
He forced a gentle smile, and cupped Sophie's face in his hand.
"Baby's comin', huh?" he said as softly as he could.
Sophie gulped.
"I … I think so. I thought it was just a false contraction or two – I've had them before-"
"Braxton Hicks," Eliot added, nodding. "These are different?"
Sophie, nodded back, surprised. She had always suspected Eliot knew far more than he let on.
"I thought it was just my back complaining, but the feeling just got worse and worse and then I felt a contraction. It was quite strong, I have to say. Then I had another one."
Eliot wiped a hand over his face and began working out timings. He realised his hand was shaking.
"Okay …" he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Okay, Soph – any idea how far apart?"
Sophie thought for a moment.
"I wasn't timing it … but I think about 15 minutes. And it was bloody painful!" she added, surprised.
Eliot grinned, despite himself.
"Well, yeah," he quipped. "It's called havin' a baby, sweetheart!" His face softened. "You're gonna be a momma, Sophie-girl. An' it's gonna be just fine. You got nothin' to worry about – we'll head for the nearest hospital an' then you can meet Bump, alright?"
Sophie hesitated, and then smiled.
"Sorry," she said, her voice a little shaky.
Eliot frowned.
"What for?"
"Just … I shouldn't have decided on this blasted day out, and we'd be – OW!"
And she curled into herself, her hand reaching out for Eliot's but she grasped his arm instead, the contraction surging through her. Eliot bared his teeth against the pain in his forearm. Dammit but Sophie had one helluva grip on her, and her elegant nails frikkin' hurt!
But the two of them rode it out, and as the contraction eased, Eliot checked his watch. Now he could time the interval when the next contraction hit. He flexed his arm as Sophie loosened her grip and knew he would have quite a bruise the next day.
He decided it was time to wake Nate.
Reaching over, he shook the sleeping man's shoulder. Nate woke with a start, Sophie's name on his lips. One look at the expression on Eliot's face told him everything he needed to know.
Sitting up, he rubbed sleep from his eyes with one hand and reached out to Sophie with his other.
"Now?" he asked, slightly bewildered. "You … you're having the baby right now?"
Sophie's eyebrows shot up.
"Yes, Nate, right-bloody-now, and I'm having bloody contractions and we're probably nowhere near a sodding hospital, so wake up, get a grip and help me out here!"
Eliot winced internally at the language, but he had to admire Sophie's stroppy streak. She sure was one classy lady.
Nate was wide awake now and up to speed. He crouched down beside Sophie and held her hand, rubbing his thumb gently on her knuckles, letting her know he was on board with everything. Nate cocked an eyebrow at Eliot.
"How far apart are the contractions?"
Eliot was immensely relieved that Nate appeared to know and understand the whole process. He supposed his previous experience and all of those classes to which Sophie had dragged him gave him an inkling of what was happening.
Eliot checked his watch again.
"Soph thinks about fifteen minutes – we got another ten or so to go, then we'll know for certain."
"Okay … you go tell Hardison we need to get to a hospital and find out how long it'll take us to get there. What's the weather like out there?"
Eliot peered out of the tinted one-way window at the darkening day. He saw a distant flash of lightning, and then heard the rumble, a mere two seconds later. The thunderstorm was heading this way.
"Heavy rain, gettin' worse. Won't be long until the thunderstorm'll be on us. It's pretty bad."
"Nothing we can do about it now," Nate said. "Just get Sophie to hospital." He turned to his wife. "Anything you need, Sophie? Tea? Anything I can do to make you feel more comfortable?"
Sophie had relaxed a little, now that Nate was at her side, and she gave him a weak smile.
"Heat pads. I love those heat pads."
Nate went to move, but Eliot beat him to it. He found the two Parker had given him, and Nate passed over the two Sophie had been using. Eliot was on his feet in a moment and shoved the pads in the microwave before peering through the little doorway leading to the front seats.
"What's goin' on back there …" Hardison began, and Eliot could see the hacker's worried dark eyes looking at him in the big rear-view mirror.
"Sophie's in labour," he said without preamble, "we need to find the nearest hospital."
Parker's face was a picture.
"Bump's finally coming?" she asked, barely able to conceal her excitement. She started to get out of the passenger seat, but Eliot gently pushed her back.
"Stay put. Nate's got it, an' Soph doesn't need us all fussin' around her –"
"Yes I bloody do!" Sophie's voice rang out, a slight edge of hysteria in her voice. "Parker! Get over here and fetch me those damn heat pads!"
Parker grinned, delighted, and was out of the seat and pushing past Eliot in seconds.
Eliot, confused but resigned to the fact that he knew nothing about the mental machinations of women in labour, took Parker's place beside Hardison, who looked as though he'd been slapped in the face with a dead fish.
"Labour? Sophie's in labour? In Lucille? What … but she's not ready yet … she ain't supposed to be havin' Bump for another two weeks! An' we're in Lucille!"
Eliot, on the point of punching someone – preferably Hardison – pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers and prayed for strength. He took a deep, deep breath, and then tried to hold on to what remained of his sanity.
"Yes, Hardison – we're in Lucille. And we need to find the nearest hospital, so think, will ya?"
Hardison, keeping his eye on the wet road ahead of him and the traffic slowing and building up as the storm began to really hit, gestured one-handed at Eliot.
"I'm drivin', El, an' there ain't no place nearby I can pull in so's we can change over so I can go find one, so get out your damn' cell an' look for one yourself! I know tech is a bit of a challenge to that punched-out brain of yours, but I'm sure you can do it if you try hard enough, huh!" He paused for breath. "How's Sophie feelin'?"
Eliot, too jumpy to rant at the hitter, hauled out his cell phone and tried to punch up Google, but there didn't seem to be any service, probably due to the storm. God, he hated technology.
"I'm in frigging labour!" Sophie yelled, anger overwhelming her fear. "How do you think I bleeding feel?"
"Any word on a hospital?" Nate said, his voice edgy.
"Workin' on it!" Eliot called out, but he was interrupted by a soft shriek from Sophie.
"SOPHIE'S LEAKING!" Parker sang, excitement turning to confusion. "Ugh … carpet's wet."
Hardison groaned.
"Sophie's waters broke!" Nate yelled, his voice rife with controlled panic.
Then Eliot heard a grunt from Nate and a pained cry from Sophie.
"SOPHIE'S CONTRACTING!" Parker yelled.
"Contraction," Eliot said under his breath, and looked at his watch. Damn. Nine minutes. He looked at Hardison, who was trying to check on Eliot and drive at the same time.
"Hardison … we gotta look for somewhere to stop."
"What? Why?"
"Because we ain't got a cat in hell's chance of gettin' to a hospital in time. This baby's comin' now, Hardison. Soph isn't hangin' around – she's gettin' on with havin' this baby in record time, an' we gotta stop an' deal with it, okay?"
Hardison's face went from panic to grim determination in a couple of seconds. He nodded.
"Okay – I'll see if I can find a rest stop or a side road. You gotta call 911, man, see if we can get an ambulance."
Eliot shook his head.
"No service. We're on our own. Again." He added.
"Interference. Probably means I ain't gonna get anything on Lucille's tech, either. Dammit."
Hardison peered through the rain-swept windshield as a crack of thunder and an enormous flash of lightning illuminated the road ahead.
"What the –" The hacker saw a long, long line of traffic taking up both lanes, tail lights gleaming red through the murk. His side mirrors confirmed that there was more traffic piling up in a line behind them. "Damn! Must be somethin' up ahead, maybe an accident or somethin'."
He slowed Lucille, and more vehicles crowded in from the side and rear, everything slowing to a crawl.
Eliot watched as the tail-lights stretched into the distance, and he heard Sophie whimper. He stared at his useless cell phone, and then watched Hardison frantically look around to see if there was any way out of this jam they found themselves in.
Finally running his fingers through his hair, Eliot slammed a fist on the dashboard in frustration.
They were well and truly stuck.
To be continued …