Chapter Eighteen

Thanksgiving Night 2019

Twenty Weeks Along

Logan has only just drifted off to sleep when he's roused by a dipping of the mattress beside him, followed by a kick to his shin as Veronica restlessly turns over… for about the twentieth time tonight.

He scowls, his eyes still closed, and mumbles out a grumpy, "Fuck, V'ronica. Some of us are trying to sleep here."

"Well, at least some of us have that luxury," she retorts irritably, shifting again. "You try getting comfortable with a human being growing inside you, both pressing on your bladder and squishing your lungs at the same time."

There's a slight wobble in her voice and he immediately regrets his irritated response. Opening his eyes, he finds her on her side facing him, trying to find a good position. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he notices the frustration in her expression and the tears glistening in her eyes.

"Sorry," he says gently, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear, his thumb lingering on her cheek. "I didn't mean to snap at you. What can I do to help?"

She shakes her head, a lone tear escaping and running down her cheek. He wipes it away.

"I don't know. I just need to sleep," she says, sounding exhausted and fed up. "But if I lie on my back, I can't breathe and if I lie on my side, my back starts aching."

Logan thinks for a moment, before saying, "Turn over. On your other side."

"Okay…"

She does as he suggests and as she settles onto her left side, he slips his arm around her waist and snuggles up behind her, supporting her back against his chest.

"Does this help?"

"A bit." She nods, her hand coming up to cover his, which is resting on her belly. "Thanks."

"No problem."

"I think the baby agrees," she adds. "Pretty sure it just moved again."

"Awesome." He smiles, a rush of warmth flooding through his chest at the thought of it. "You know, it feels kinda odd calling the baby 'it'… maybe we should—"

"Before you ask, we are not finding out the sex," she interrupts quickly. "We already decided that."

"I know. That's not what I was going to say," he says. "I just meant, maybe we should find another word instead of 'it'. A nickname we can use."

"Like what?" she sounds sceptical. "Not one of those weird ones like bean or nugget?"

"Okay, maybe not one of those," he concedes. "I don't know…" He thinks for a moment, before an idea comes to mind and he grins. "How about Bud?"

"Bud?" she says incredulously, turning her head toward him. "What kind of name is that?"

He catches his tongue between his teeth in a smile. "Baby UnDetermined."

She makes a soft sound, somewhere between a scoff and a chuckle. "Trust you to come up with something military-sounding."

"You don't like it?"

"I didn't say that," she returns.

"Okay, then. Bud it is." He nods in confirmation, gently rubbing her belly again. "Hear that, Bud?"

"You're ridiculous." She shakes her head, though she doesn't object.

"But you love me anyway," he teases, kissing her cheek.

"That I do." She smiles, then gives a sigh. "God help me."

She settles back against him again and they lie together in silence.

"Thank you for today," she says after a moment.

"It was my pleasure," he says, gently running his hand over her bump again, marvelling at how it seems to be getting bigger every day. "I'm glad you had a good Thanksgiving."

He surprised her last night by flying Keith and Marcia out to Virginia Beach for Thanksgiving weekend. The four of them plus Pony spent the day together, watching the Macy's Parade on TV, preparing Thanksgiving dinner and then sitting down together to watch the game. Logan has to admit that though he's now comfortable hanging out with Keith, it's still weird having both the former and current Neptune sheriffs staying in his house, especially given his history with Neptune law enforcement. He spent the day waiting for one of them to accuse him of some nefarious wrong-doing or other.

"It was just what I needed."

She shifts in his arms, moving against him, her hand coming to the back of her hip.

"You okay?" he asks in concern.

"My back's aching again," she admits. "I think I need to get one of those pregnancy pillows."

"Those weird-shaped ones?"

"Yeah," she says. "I didn't really consider it before, but then again, until this week, I was sleeping pretty well. They're supposed to really help."

"Okay." He nods. "We'll go shopping tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay." The words come out on a yawn and Logan tightens his arm around her slightly.

"Try to get some sleep, okay?" he says softly.

"Uh, huh," she murmurs tiredly.

Her breathing evens out and she relaxes back against him, but Logan doesn't follow her into sleep right away. Instead, he takes a moment to enjoy the feel of her in his arms, his palm flattening over her stomach as he tries to picture their baby inside. He feels a curl of excitement and anticipation in his belly at the thought that he's going to become a father in a few months.

Early December 2019

Twenty-One Weeks Along

Notepad and pencil in hand, Veronica makes her way down the aisles of Target on Saturday morning, eyes scanning the shelves for things they might need for the baby. As she stops to make a couple of notes, she hears Logan sigh as he joins her from behind.

"Why are we here again?" he asks.

"Because we gotta start figuring out what we need for the baby registry," she says, pretty sure she's already explained this already—though her brain has been all over the place lately, so there's a good chance she intended to explain and then totally forgot.

"But why?" He looks confused as he scratches the back of his neck. "I mean, we can afford to buy anything we need for the baby."

"I know that." She tries not to roll her eyes. "But everyone's gonna want to buy us gifts, and it's better they get things we actually need, rather than random crap that will just gather dust."

"Okay, fair enough," he concedes. "But why do we have to do it in a Target store?"

She frowns. "What's wrong with Target?"

"Nothing. It's just—"

"Nothing?" She raises an eyebrow. "You mean you're not being a rich snob about shopping in a lower-class store? Nice to see some things never change."

He sighs in barely-concealed frustration. "You know I didn't mean—"

"Do I?" she shoots back.

Feathers ruffled, she turns on her heel and continues down the aisle.

"Veronica," Logan protests, following behind her, his fingers catching her elbow. "Come on, stop. I just meant that there are other stores we could go to instead."

"What stores, huh?" she spits back. "Expensive boutiques and designer outlets?"

"Not necessarily," he starts, but she's on a roll now.

"Maybe your friends are rich, Logan, but mine aren't," she counters. "They can't afford to buy registry gifts from places like that."

"And we're back to my original point. We don't need anyone to gift us this stuff," he responds. "We can buy high-end ourselves."

"Ugh!" She throws her hands up in frustration. "You're impossible!"

He visibly clenches his jaw at that. "Well, excuse me for wanting you and the baby to have the best things."

Veronica lets out a huff of annoyance. "We don't need the best thin—"

She stops suddenly, a gasp of surprise falling from her lips.

"I know that, I just—" he continues.

"Logan," she says urgently.

"—want you to be happy."

"Logan!" Exasperated, she reaches for his hand and places it over her stomach.

"What?" he asks in irritation.

"The baby just kicked."

"What?" His tone changes to one of surprise… and awe. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," she responds, a smile slowly spreading across her face, the tension draining from her body. "Until now, I've only felt flutters, but this one was a real kick."

"Wow," he murmurs, his gaze fixed on her belly. "Is it gonna happen again?"

"Now? I don't know," she says with a shrug. "We were arguing; maybe little Bud here wanted to get in on the action?"

Logan frowns a little, his palm flattening over her stomach. "So, we should keep arguing, see if it happens again?"

"No." She can't help it, the smile stretches into a grin. "As exhilarating as fighting with you may be, I'd rather not draw any more attention to ourselves while we're in the middle of a store."

"Fair enough." He returns the grin for a moment, before sobering. "I'm sorry. You're right, I was being a snob."

"That's okay," she relents. "I know how hard is it for you to pretend you're one of the little people sometimes."

"Hey, I resent that," he protests. "I spend most of my time with those so-called 'little people'."

Veronica just smiles in response.

"You're forgiven," she says, rising up to kiss him lightly on the lips.

As they part, she feels it again. A definite kick, right under Logan's palm.

"Fuck me, did you feel that?" he says in wonder. She just raises an eyebrow in response, until he adds, "Of course you did."

"Pretty cool, huh?"

He nods, breaking into a grin. "Very cool."

Mid-December 2019

Twenty-Two Weeks Along

"So?" Veronica pounces as soon as Logan arrives home from work on Wednesday evening. "Did you hear?"

Logan tugs off his jacket and drapes it over the armchair as he nods. "I did."

"And?" she says impatiently.

He turns to her, unable to keep the grin from his face. "I got it."

She shoots up from the couch and practically bounces across the room. "You got it?"

"Yep." He extracts the folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and holds it out to her. "The official orders."

"Oh my God!" she exclaims, taking it from him and scanning over it for a moment before looking back up at him with bright, shining eyes. "This is for real?"

"Uh huh." He nods, still grinning. "We're going back to Neptune, baby!"

"Logan…" Her voice is filled with wonder as she throws her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "I can't believe it."

"Believe it," he replies, hugging her back.

She pulls back, her fingers stroking the base of his neck, and kisses him enthusiastically. When they part, she has tears in her eyes.

"Thank you," she says earnestly.

"What for?" He feigns innocence and she just gives him an incredulous look.

"Come on, it can't have been a coincidence that this opportunity just suddenly came up for you," she says. "I mean, of all the instructors in the Navy, and you just happen to be the one who's offered it?"

There's no use denying it, so…

"You're right," he says with a shrug. "As soon as I heard about the new unit, I had to give it a shot. I approached them, arranged the meeting in San Diego, asked if I could transfer."

"Why?" she asks, her hands coming to rest on his chest.

"For you," he tells her. Surely that should be obvious? "Because I know you're not happy here and never will be." He shrugs again. "What can I say? I hate to see you sad."

"Really?" She sounds a little choked up.

"And for me as well," he continues. "Because I'm not happy here either."

She frowns in confusion. "You're not?"

"How can I be, when you aren't?"

As the words leave his mouth, he realises how cheesy they sound and he cringes.

"I mean, yeah, if I was here on my own, I'd just accept it and make the most of it, but this isn't just about me anymore," he says seriously. "We're a family now; we need to do what's best for all of us. And what's best is being in Neptune."

"Yeah," she agrees. "It is. Thank you."

He nods, giving her a closed-mouth smile as he pushes down his own emotions, the ones causing his chest to tighten and threatening to bring tears to his own eyes.

"So, when do you start?"

"The week after New Year's," he says. "There's no training at Oceana over the holidays, so I'll finish up here December 20th and we can leave after that."

She looks up at him hopefully. "So we can be home by Christmas?"

He nods, smiling. "We can be home by Christmas."

"This is amazing." She bounces on her toes, then leans up to kiss him again, before resting her forehead against his.

"I know." His smile widens; her joy is infectious.

"You know what, I think this deserves a celebration," she declares, stepping back and holding out her hand to him. "Let's take this upstairs."

"Why, Mrs. Echolls!" He affects a vaguely scandalised tone. "Before dinner?"

"Well…" She seems to consider this. "I am awfully hungry, but the thing is,"—she rises up on tiptoes, resting her hand on his shoulder as she murmurs in his ear— "All I've been thinking about all day is getting you naked and riding you until I come so hard I can't think straight."

"Jesus," he swears, swallowing audibly as his cock springs to life. "Uh, well… in that case, I, uh…" He stops, unable to think clearly as her hand slides down to cup him through his pants. He clears his throat. "I have no objection to that."

"Thought you might say that," she says teasingly, taking his hand and pulling him towards the door. "Come on."

As she pulls him up the stairs, he can't help but quip, "So, tell me, do all pregnant women get this horny or is it just you?"

Christmas Day 2019

Twenty-Four Weeks Along

Veronica smiles to herself as she pours pancake batter into one frying pan, before checking on the bacon sizzling away in the other. They've been back in Neptune for four days now, having flown home with Pony on Saturday and the moving truck arriving yesterday, but she's barely been able to stop smiling the whole time.

"Morning," Logan's voice rumbles in her ear as she feels his chest and stomach pressing against her back. He brushes her hair to one side and her eyes slide closed as he kisses the sensitive spot just behind her ear. "Merry Christmas, my darling wife."

She smirks. "Okay, what did you do?"

"Huh?" He sounds puzzled as he presses another kiss to her neck.

"My darling wife?" she questions. "That's the kind of thing a husband with a guilty conscience says."

"I think Neptune's gotten to you already," he muses. "You're back to talking like a suspicious PI again."

His hand runs down her back, fingers tracing each vertebra. It makes her shiver, a thrill running through her whole body.

"You can relax," he assures her, hand sliding around to rest over her bump. "I just felt like saying it."

"Well, in that case…" She turns to face him, looping her arms around his neck. "Merry Christmas, my dearest husband."

A slow smile spreads across his face as he leans down and kisses her lightly.

"So," he says when they part. "Pancakes and bacon, huh?"

"Yep." She turns back to the stove so she can flip the pancake, and Logan's hands settle on her stomach again. "I thought we could eat them out on the sundeck. You know, make the most of the warm, sunny SoCal weather."

"You do realise that it's only about 50 degrees out there right now?" Logan's chin comes to rest on her shoulder. "We'll freeze."

She shrugs. "It's still warmer than Virginia Beach."

"Be that as it may, I vote for eating on the couch instead."

"Spoilsport," she replies, moving the pancake to a plate, then greasing the pan and ladling more pancake batter into it.

Logan remains behind her as she makes the breakfast, seemingly unable to stop himself from gently running his fingers across her t-shirt covered belly. The baby kicks in response to his touch and Veronica can't help grinning when Logan startles in surprise. A moment later, she feels another kick, and then what could well be the jab of an elbow, and she brings her hand to her stomach too.

"It's all go in there, today, huh, Bud?" says Logan, affection in his tone.

"Don't I know it." Veronica rubs at the spot for a moment, before returning her attention to making the breakfast.

"You glad to be home?" Logan asks softly.

"Yes. Definitely." She nods. "Ever since we got back, it's just like this constant relief, you know?"

"I do."

"I know I've said it already, but thank you," she tells him seriously. "For pulling those strings, or whatever it was, to get the transfer. It means so much to me."

"I know it does." He kisses the base of her neck. "And I'd do anything for you, you know that."

A lump begins to form in her throat at that, and she has to blink away tears. "I do. And I, you."

There's a moment of silence, before Logan says. "Geez, what happened to us? So sentimental."

Veronica grins, patting his hand where it rests on her stomach. "Aw, honey, you've always been this way."

"That's not true," he claims and she snorts disbelievingly. "Okay, maybe it is. But if anyone at the base finds out, there'll be hell to pay."

"Yeah, okay." She rolls her eyes. "Your secret's safe with me."

As Veronica finishes making the pancakes and piles everything onto one plate, Logan releases her and moves to the fridge, pouring two glasses of orange juice. They carry the plate and glasses to the living room and make themselves comfortable on the couch, Veronica propped against the arm, cushions supporting her back, and her legs draped over Logan's, as they feed each other strips of bacon and forkfuls of pancake.

"You know," says Logan, when the plate is clean. "This is the last Christmas we'll have to ourselves, just us, for at least the next eighteen years."

"Wow." Veronica blinks. "I hadn't even thought of that."

"Exactly," he stresses. "So, I think we should make the most of all our alone time today; celebrate Christmas our way, just the two of us, before Bud in there comes along and makes it three."

Veronica studies him with amusement. "Echolls, are you trying to talk me into bed?"

"Or the shower." He shoots her a lazy grin. "Maybe the kitchen table. I'm not picky."

"You do realise I'm almost six months pregnant, right?" She raises an eyebrow at him. "I'm not sure you've thought the practicalities of those suggestions through."

"Okay, then." He concedes with a shrug. "How about right here on the couch? You can be on top."

"Hey, Logan…?" she says softly, beckoning to him with her index finger.

When he leans forward in question, she reaches for his shirt and tugs him in for a kiss.

"As amazing as that sounds," she says when they part. "Right now, little Bud here is squishing all my organs, which means my back is killing me and I'm feeling short of breath just sitting here, let alone doing anything else." She looks at him beseechingly. "So, can we please just have a nice, relaxing Christmas morning where I don't have to do anything except stay still and open a few presents?"

"Of course," he agrees quickly, flashing an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"Thank you," she says. "Any other time, though…"

"Sure." He nods in understanding. "You want a backrub?"

"Well, if you're offering…"

"Okay," he says, lifting her legs from his lap so he can stand up. "I'll get some pillows."

Veronica smiles, her eyes following his retreating form as he heads out of the room, toward their bedroom. Logan's been awesome the last few weeks since he's been home. Before he left for his short deployment, other than morning sickness, she didn't look or seem much different than before she got pregnant, but by the time he got back and saw how much her body had changed, he seemed to realise how much she's going through… so he started immersing himself in her maternity books, researching everything he could about the pregnancy, and even learning how to give her pregnancy massages… something she's been very appreciative of.

"Okay, here we go." He returns to the living room, his arms laden with a comforter, her pregnancy pillow, two other pillows and her massage oil.

He sets about arranging them on the floor, then holds his hands out to her to help her up off the couch. When she's settled on her side amongst the pillows, her sleep-shirt discarded and the comforter wrapped around her front, Logan sits down behind her to start the massage.

"Good?" he asks, his warm hands gliding along her skin, easing the tension.

She sighs contentedly, feeling herself relaxing already. "Yeah... very."

As Logan's hands work their magic on her aching muscles, Pony gets up from her bed in the kitchen and pads over to see what's going on.

"Hey, girl," murmurs Veronica, reaching out to pet the dog as she curls up on the floor in front of her, her soft head resting against her belly.

"Think she's looking for a massage too?" wonders Logan.

"Nah, look at her," she replies, watching as Pony nuzzles her stomach. "So protective already."

"A regular guard dog, eh?" Veronica can hear the amusement in his voice.

"I think she knows I'm carrying precious cargo."

Logan brings one hand to her stomach. "That you are."

"Open this one next," Logan says a couple of hours later, handing her a box wrapped in brightly-coloured Christmas paper.

"What's this?" she asks as she takes it from him.

He gives a slight roll of his eyes. "Why don't you open it and find out?"

She tears off the paper, then lifts the lid from the box and peers inside.

"Oh my God… Logan…"

She reaches for the first item, holding it up in front of her. It's a tiny, cream-coloured Babygro with the words '50% Mommy, 50% Daddy… 100% Perfect' printed on it.

"It's so cute," she says, her heart practically melting at the sight of it.

"I know, right?" He smile widely, looking pleased with himself.

"Thank you," she tells him sincerely, as she places it to one side, then turns back to the box and picks up the next item inside. She turns to Logan with a raised eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Sorry, couldn't resist." He grins mischievously.

"It's a good thing you already got yourself in my good books with that massage earlier," she says warningly. "Because otherwise…"

"Oh, come on, it's funny," he retorts.

She eyes the slogan on the t-shirt again, which has a yellow warning triangle printed in the centre, and the words, 'Caution: Touching of Pregnant Belly May Result in Loss of Hand', above and below it. "You know I'm never wearing this, right?"

"If you say so." He shrugs. "But from what Sarah said about unwanted belly touching when she was pregnant, you might need it."

"Really?" She frowns. So far, she hasn't really had anyone come up to her and ask to feel her belly… but then again, she hasn't exactly been the most social person lately either, so… "Well, we'll see."

"Go on, check out the rest." Logan nods to the box again.

"Okay." The t-shirt joins the Babygro as she checks the box again. The next gift is a baby book, one they can record all the baby's firsts in. She lifts it up, tears pricking her eyes as she starts turning the pages. "Oh, it's perfect."

"I figured now we're back home, we should start preparing properly, you know?"

She nods. Other than choosing gifts for the registry, they've been holding off on organising any of the other stuff until they got back to California.

"There's one more thing in there."

Veronica checks the box again, and finds a small, white envelope at the bottom. Sliding her finger under the flap, she pulls out a voucher for two pregnancy spa days at an expensive health retreat in the 09er district.

"I thought you might like to experience the real thing and not my poor excuse for a massage," he says. "You can take someone with you if you like, maybe Mac?"

"Wow…" She's touched. "Thank you."

He smiles warmly. "My pleasure."

"Makes me wish I'd got you more than—" Logan cuts her off with a finger to her lips.

"Veronica, you're my wife and you're carrying my child," he says softly, cupping her jaw and leaning in for a soft, gentle kiss. "Let me spoil you once in a while, huh?"

Veronica spoons a generous helping of mashed potatoes onto her plate, then passes the serving bowl to Logan, who's sitting to her right. They're over at her father's for Christmas Dinner, and like last year, they're sharing the meal with Marcia, Lianne and Hunter, though Dick isn't here this time—apparently he's living it up on a beach in Mexico for the holidays.

Admittedly, Veronica hasn't had a whole lot of contact with her mother and half-brother over the last year, given that she's been in Virginia for much of it, and rather pre-occupied with everything, so it's nice to catch up today. Hunter's growing up quickly; he recently turned ten years old, and is almost as tall as Veronica already. It's kind of strange for her to see him now, actually… the family resemblance is definitely there, more so than when he was six, but at the same time, there are obvious differences too, inherited from his father's side.

"So, the move went smoothly, Veronica?" asks Lianne, as she piles vegetables on her plate.

"Yeah, it did." Veronica nods. "Other than the incredibly long, uncomfortable flight, of course." She turns to Logan, a sarcastic note to her voice as she adds, "Honey, remind me not to take any more flights during this pregnancy, okay?"

"Noted," replies Logan with a smirk.

"Well, you won't have to, now that you're home," says Keith. "I'm glad you're back, both of you."

"Us too, Dad."

Conversation turns to Hunter and the new gaming system he got for Christmas, and as the boy excitedly tries to explain how it works to Keith and Marcia, Veronica reaches over and covers Logan's hand with her own, giving it a gentle squeeze. They share a warm smile, as Logan lifts the back of her hand to his lips. When they break eye contact, Veronica notices Lianne watching them with a soft smile, and she gives her a nod of acknowledgement in return.

Silence soon falls across the table as everyone digs into their food, however, as she starts gathering a bite's worth of meat and potatoes onto her fork, she stiffens, feeling a tightening in her stomach, followed by twinge of pain, and her hand comes to her belly in surprise.

"Are you okay?" Logan asks softly, leaning over towards her.

"Yeah." She nods, as the feeling disappears. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She tries getting the food as far as her mouth this time, but before she does, the tightness returns, only this time, it's a sharp, stabbing pain in her side. With a frown, and careful not to draw attention, she puts down her fork and pushes herself up out of the chair.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," she informs the table. "Back in a minute."

As naturally as she can, she walks through the bungalow to the bathroom, not wanting to worry anyone, but as soon as she's safely inside, she sinks back against the closed door, hands cupping her stomach as another wave of pain flows through her abdomen.

"Shit," she mutters through gritted teeth as she rides it out. What's going on?

She manages to get herself over to the toilet, hoping maybe it's just a bad case of indigestion or something, but when she tugs down her underwear, she freezes, her body going numb.

She's bleeding.

She has abdominal pains and she's bleeding.

Fuck, is all she can think. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She can't even move; she's frozen to the spot, her gaze fixed on the bright red stain.

This can't be happening. It just can't. Not now, not after everything.

Her breathing is starting come faster now, panic building as questions begin to run through her mind. Is this normal? What is she supposed to do now? Does she just ignore it, hope it goes away? Or maybe she should get it checked out?

A knock pulls her from the muddle that is her mind, and she blinks, staring at the door in confusion.

"Veronica?" It's Logan. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been in there a while."

"I—" she starts, but her voice cracks and she has to clear her throat. "I'll be out in a sec."

She tugs up her pants and underwear, then washes and dries her hands, trying to ignore the fact that they're shaking. Pulling open the door, she comes face-to-face with Logan, who is wearing his 'worried about Veronica' expression.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately.

She doesn't try to pretend she's okay, because right now, she's terrified, so she just says simply, "Can you take me to the hospital? I think there's something wrong with the baby."