Disclaimer: But alas, it was not meant to be.
A/N: I MISSED AN UPDATE! #Hides behind giant panda teddy bear in the hopes of becoming invisible. Please do not stone me, or send me into infinite exile. I have a good reason, Scout's Honor! My parents surprised me with a visit. 'Nuff said. In the spirit of showing them a good time, I put everything on hold. Nonetheless, I apologize profusely, my dear readers.
This chapter is dedicated to two very special people who have stuck with me since I've been posting, too, and who never fail to bring smiles to my face when I read their reviews. Their loyalty and kind words touch me more than I can convey, so this is to kateadams and carrotmusic! Your words always mean more than you know!
Shoutout to PalomaD, for pointing out a mistake to in the previous chapter and saving me a load of embarrassment! Thanks, hon! For taking the time to teach me something, and for the sweet and awesome way in which you did it! Your approach to it was more appreciated than you know!
Enjoy!
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Stephanie
I curled into a tight ball, wrapping my arms protectively around my torso. Whimpering into my pillow I tried to ward off the chills racking my entire frame by burrowing deeper into the covers.
God, why did I feel so awful?
"Oh, Babe," I distantly heard Carlos murmur. Strong arms wrapped around me and hauled me into his warm embrace. The sudden motion made my stomach churn and with a quickness that belied how sluggish I really felt, I shot into the bathroom, making it there just in time to heave the contents of my stomach- along with several vital organs, I was sure- into the toilet bowl. I felt my hair held back and rhythmic stroking down the length of my back grounded me to reality. "I'm sorry, Querida, it's all going to be okay. You're going to be fine. I've got you. Shhh…I've got you." Carlos kept up a soft litany of reassurances.
"Did you get the license plate number?" I whimpered listlessly, letting my head fall on to his cargo-glad thigh from my position on the ground.
"What license plate number, Babe?" The stark note of concern in his voice struck a chord of amusement in me; drowning among the pain, but there nonetheless.
"The license plate number of the truck that had to have flattened me," I deadpanned. "Because there's no way I could feel this way for any other reason."
Carlos snorted a laugh. "You're a real comedian babe," he commented dryly.
"Open mic night, watch out," I groaned feebly, trying to gain some purchase fisting my hand in his waistband in an attempt to drag myself into a semi-upright position.
Carlos promptly hooked one arm underneath my knees and, gripping my shoulders with the other, picked me up effortlessly, cradling me to his chest. I burrowed as close to his warmth as I could, thanking every deity I could think of that this motion didn't set off nuclear reactors in my stomach.
He took me out of the bedroom and settled me on the couch, only leaving me for a second to grab a blanket. He made a call while wrapping the snug blue blanket around me, and from what I could gather, he was asking Tank to cancel whatever of his and my meetings Tank couldn't cover himself.
"Don't," I protested weakly. When my stomach recoiled, voicing its opinion, I amended my plan. "I'll stay on seven and play Street Fighter with my intestines. You go handle clients. We can't both call in sick." I sent him as sly a smirk as I could muster. "I have a very presumptuous boss, and what on earth would people think?"
He barked out another laugh. "I think you've found your calling, Babe," he rolled his eyes in a gesture so like me I had to risk life and limb by laughing.
"I always knew I was born to perform," I grinned, pushing my hair back from my forehead. I was already starting to feel a little better, but I didn't want to take any chances. After all, this weird bug had been on and off for the past week or so. When Carlos still looked skeptical, I sighed and tried to compromise. "Look," I picked up a hand to gently play with a lock of his hair, a gesture I knew either soothed him, or turned him on, depending on the pressure. "I'll call Mary Lou and she can play nurse-slash-babysitter today if it makes you feel more comfortable. I'll go to the doctor tomorrow if it persists."
He seemed to consider this for a moment, unconsciously leaning into my touch. "Okay," he nodded finally. "But you call me if you need anything. Anything at all. Okay, Babe?"
"Hooah, Sir," I grinned mischievously at him. A glint appeared in his eyes as they took on a predatory look, darkening with unabashed lust. I licked my lips, an involuntary reaction to the images that assaulted my mind. "We're gonna have to explore that reaction sometime, Batman," I remarked throatily.
"God, yes," he growled gutturally, nipping at my bottom lip with his teeth before soothing the bite with his tongue. I moaned, starting to reach for him before he pulled back with a pant and a rueful smile. "We can't do this now," he said breathlessly, looking like it was physically hurting him to say this. Which, given the state of the tightness at the front of his pants, it probably was.
"Not if you want to make it to work today," I agreed, grinning at him and easing myself as slow as I could further into the covers. My hand fluttered to down to rest on my abdomen as my eyes slid shut.
"I'll call Mary Lou for you, Babe," he told me softly, kissing my lips with infinite tenderness.
The next time I opened my eyes, it was to find the curious hazel eyes of my best friend peering anxiously at my face. Her face cracked open in a grin as I came back to awareness.
"Geeze, Lou, paranoid much?" I snorted, lifting a hand to poke the tip of her nose, eliciting a giggle.
"You have a penchant for getting into health-risking situations. Am I being crazy or completely rational?" she asked me lightly.
"I plead the fifth on that one."
"Jerk," she laughed. "Why don't you tell me what's been going on?"
"I don't know, Lou," I answered truthfully. "I feel nauseous and dizzy and weak as a kitten for a few hours, then it just goes away until the next day. It's the weirdest damn bug I've ever had."
"Have you been to a doctor?" she asked me, brow furrowed slightly in concern.
"Not yet," I admitted, moving with excruciatingly sloth-like movements, lest my stomach rebel against me again. "I promised Carlos I'd go tomorrow if it doesn't let up."
"Good," she nodded approvingly, moving to the space next to me on the couch that I'd just liberated. "Until then…" she pulled out a box of Twinkies from her bag with dramatic flourish, grinning at me. "I brought contraband."
"This is why we're best friends," I moaned appreciatively. Ripping one open, the scent hit my nostrils like a sledgehammer…
…and had me throwing it to the floor and hightailing it to the bathroom to worship the Porcelain Gods.
After a new bout of retching, it was Mary Lou this time, who was rubbing soothing circles in between my shoulders. She held my elbow as I shuffled over to the basin to rinse my mouth out.
"What happened, honey?" she asked worriedly. "I thought you said it goes away?"
"It had," I complained, wiping my mouth on the towel and sliding down to sit on the welcoming coolness of the tiled floors. It was a testament to our friendship that Lou didn't even try to coax me away, just sat next to me on the floor, cross-legged. She put a comforting arm around me and I leaned into her, resting my head against her shoulder in exhaustion. "I don't know what happened; I just smelt the Twinkie and everything I've eaten since last week made an appearance."
"But you love Twinkies," Lou interjected in confusion. I nodded miserably, shuffling a little closer to her. Her other arm automatically came around me, rubbing little circles into my arms with the pads of her thumbs. The soothing motion had me drifting in and out of awareness, until a gasp and subsequent jerk of her body lurched me back into cognizance.
"I got it!" she squealed. I squinted at her in confusion and mild annoyance.
"What?"
And so, four simply uttered words changed my life forever.
"I think you're pregnant."
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