Morning sickness. The doctor's words echoed in her head like a dirge. Nicola grabbed the wall for support, still utterly dazed. The nausea and dizziness had been plaguing her for two weeks now. She thought it was a flu or something, a mild persistence that wouldn't go away. Pregnancy screening was apparently normal for the battery of tests with the blood draw the doctor ordered. It's pretty simple, Miss Cantaglia, you're pregnant.
No, I'm not. She'd laughed at the doctor. You know my medical history. Someone made a mistake, check again.
We did check, Miss Cantaglia, because, yes, I know. But three times we checked it. There was no mix-up. I'd like to run a few more tests,and I'd like to see you back here tomorrow, or the next day. Given your position...
She'd walked out then. Just left his office. No idea what he said to try to stop her, only knowing when she reached the waiting room that he stopped, far too smart to cause a scene. He was a military doctor, and knew who she was. She was just lucky he didn't know how it had happened.
How had it happened? It wasn't possible. It really wasn't. She unlocked the door to her apartment, moving automatically. It was nearly 17:00, he may be in. She unlocked the door and knocked. Without waiting she turned and moved to the bed, staring at the wall.
Door opened. She didn't look up. "I'm pregnant." What else was there to say?
"I know," nonchalant, so what? That slapped her back to reality.
"You know?! You don't know! I didn't know." He shrugged, noncommental as ever.
"Figured that's what you wanted. Not like you were using anything..." She barked a laugh - holding up her hand.
"You don't understand! I can't be pregnant! That beautiful scar on my left hip? I took a half-round in the war off a Necro-fucking-blaster. My captain fucking..." she choked "...died." She shook her head. Not thinking about that now. No. No flashbacks. No Casey... "I..."
"I... fucking lost my left ovary and half my goddamn uterus in the war, capeesh?" She stood up, starting to pace. Riddick stood there, intransigent as always. "Twenty fucking years old, mop-up on a dawn raid, second day. Moving civies to shelter down in New Jeddah. They didn't send as many of the armada down on secondary targets. Even after the capital fell, we were still resisting. Fucking Necros.
We'd downed the squad, thought they were dead. My captain was checking corpses, still trying to fathom what we were dealing with, and one of those undead bastards was not all the way down. I caught the movement on my right, Casey was turned, I tried to shove him, get a clear shot, but fucking stick went off... I was too slow.. caught him right in the back and I got grazed in the hip. Casey was dead. I wasn't. Medic patched me up, and when the fucking Armada pulled out the next day, I was back at Persico base where we still had surgery intact. Got a fucking promotion for all the good it did me."
Nicola stopped, staring at him.
"Do you understand now? Why I didn't fucking care what you did with me? It was just sex, Riddick! Not part of the goddamn ReGen Project! That's why they switched to artificial insemination with the recruits. We figured you knew somehow, and purposely picked me since I'm supposed to be fucking barren!"
"No. I didn't. Why would you think that?"
"Oh, I don't know... your fucking voodoo Furyan powers?! You know I'm pregnant, don't you? You know a lot of goddamn shit the rest of us don't!"
"I know you're cussing like a merc and it'll upset Jack."
"Jack?! What the hell? You know and you already named him?"
"Her, actually."
"WHAT?!"
"It's a girl." Nicola sat down hard on the bed, face in her hands.
"Wake me up, please, because this is a fucking dream." The tears were starting now, and she wasn't going to try to stop them. Even in front of him. She threw herself on the bed, clutching the bedspread."This is not happening. This can't be happening. I fucking hate this. What did you do to me?"
"You didn't seem to mind it at the time."
"Oh fuck you!" She whipped a pillow at him. He scooped it up off the floor, and dropped it back on the bed beside her. "You have no idea what this does to me. I don't even have a choice in this matter, it's not like I'd be even able to get this taken care of if I wanted to. Once the project managers find out, I'll be under 24 hour surveillance." Riddick sat down next to her, hand on her back.
"You don't want it?" His voice was odd, controlled. She sighed, not looking up.
"It doesn't matter anyway. What do you care? You didn't show any interest when I told you about the artificial insemination reports. You'll be a father in a few months anyway." The big man huffed.
"What? Tube babies? Don't think so. Not mine. Not my business."
"And you're saying this is?"
"Why'd you call me in here?"
"I don't know."
"Yes you do. You're my mate."
The word chilled her. She didn't know why. He'd said it so matter-of -factly. But it was... bizarre.
"Mate? What kind of a word..." Now she did look up at him. It wasn't fair, he was wearing his goggles. He shrugged, nothing showing on his face. But he fingered her hair affectionately, absently. She lay her head back down, still feeling numb. She'd called him her predator, compared him to jungle cats on many occasions. His insistent need to hold her, touch her, smell her... that's what he said, that first night, her smell?
It was so... animal... primitive... Mate. That's pretty much all they did, if you looked at it like that. Now she carried his child. And he knew. And he was still here, rubbing her back.
"You don't have to stay." her voice was small.
"No. I don't." But his warm hand didn't move.
"You knocked me up, you ass."
"Yeah. I did. You gonna congratulate me?"
"Go to hell"
"Been there sister, many times. I'm here now. Get used to it."
The door was unlocked after that. Nicola would never admit she didn't want to be alone, or the strange peace his presence offered on nights he joined her in bed. It wasn't even always sex, though the doctor had assured her, at 11 weeks along, even with a high risk pregnancy - which the scientists immediately diagnosed as a precaution - sex was fine.
Still, it was strange some nights to wake up, after she'd turned in alone, to wake to find him there, staring at her. It was comforting, and she wondered, after a while, if it didn't comfort him as well. Some of the violent possession seemed to go out of him, and she wondered if it was concern for her condition, or just that he no longer was denied her presence most of the week.
He didn't change really, he was still Riddick, silent and ghostly in his coming and going. It's not like they started having dinner together or chatted about work. But she accepted that, his panther prowlings around second sundown, like a half-wild stray seeking warmth in the evenings. And she enjoyed his company, because he could sense her moods, and she'd given up feeling betrayed by whatever non-normal cues he picked up on to intuit it. Because it usually meant backrubs, or occasionally his particular fetish with brushing her hair. It was innocuous, unexplainable as his other behavior, but it was intimate in a soothing way. Especially after being treated like a science project by the antiseptic doctors in ReGen. She was now subject A1 to them, more exciting than the 8 month pregnant recruits that had been their trophies just a few weeks ago.
Nicola didn't mind having to hand off project management to her vice ministers, she'd considered citing conflict of interest a few months previously, tired of the clinical language used to describe Riddick in briefings and the passive-aggressive hints that she should somehow make him cooperate more fully with the scientists. As it was, they'd lessened their demands on him once the first few pregnancies reached a stage after the first trimester where the doctors could start comparing fetal data with their progenitor, or as Nicola thought less kindly, they had someone else they could poke with a stick. The objective world of medical research was an anathema to a politician like herself whose skills depended so heavily on empathy and personality management. She understood why they suddenly treated her as a biology experiment, but she didn't like it.
When she was about 16 weeks along, Riddick left with the three week scouting mission for Furya. It wasn't first landfall, but it was the first joint military and scientific survey to explore in detail the three sites advance missions had identified as archaeologically and ecologically significant. Nicola wasn't exactly surprised when he'd told her he was going, really she was gratified, considering his reticence at the initial news, but she'd gotten a bit used to his company. Oh well, at least he bothered to tell her himself.
What he thought of his first trip, she never found out. Riddick returned to find her sick and feverish in bed, mostly incoherent, and breathing shallowly. He'd summoned emergency medical staff, knowing that her fever must be high if she felt warm to him. She was admitted to the military medical hospital for observation overnight, until the doctors at ReGen could be summoned to shed light on the sudden illness.
"Near as we can tell, she's having an anaphylaxic reaction to the amniocentesis we did yesterday," Dr. Othnhaus told him later outside her medical room. Riddick stared at the nervous little man, saying nothing. Othnhaus pinched the bridge of his nose in distress. "I'm sorry, it's late, I wasn't thinking... We did an amniotic fluid test, inserted a needle to get DNA readings on the child. Which is turning out quite remarkable actually... " He stopped, the big man had crossed his arms. "But... yes, it seems their blood types are incompatible, there was a leak... she's having a bad reaction to the baby's blood in her system. We gave her an antibody injection. It should clear up, it's just terribly unpleasant. We'll keep her overnight, but she should be better tomorrow."
The information about their blood types was really just the tip of the iceberg, as Nicola found out a week later. Othnhaus told her personally, since she had opted out of ReGen meetings. Her daughter was Furyan. 100%. Blood type matched Riddick, but also the genetic markers that branded her a pureblood of the race. Not an exact match to her father, but scientifically, it wasn't possible. Nothing like that had happened with the artificial insemination group, all nine girls had been born with normal genetic profiles that indicated similarities to both parents. Nicola had nervously laughed it off, pointing out to Othnhaus that she shouldn't even be pregnant, so what was one more impossible fact? Riddick said nothing, which had become his usual acknowledgment. The doctor also demanded an end to any relations, lest there be another breach. This was met with more silence, though Nicola could read him well enough to see the barely visible shift in his posture that warned he was not pleased at being told what to do. Or not do.
After the doctor had left, she'd tried to find a way to broach the subject and calm him. He was pacing the room as she returned to bed, her feet were swollen and hurting. "You don't have to stay here. I know it's been three weeks, but you should find something, or someone to take your aggression out on. I really don't care." Riddick stopped, stiffening.
"What are you saying?"
"I know what Othnhaus said upset you. You're prowling."
"Don't play politician with me, Nicola. That little shit's condescension was enough."
"I'm being realistic, that's all. You have needs." Riddick snorted.
"That's what you think this is about? Sex? That I can't control myself?" Nicola flinched as his anger turned on her. "Bad enough that pompous dick thinks I'm gonna risk hurting you, after he does..." he shook his head. "I think I do need to find something to break." Two strides and he was in his own room, leaving Nicola to ponder her own misconceptions of ego.
Things progressed slowly those last four months. Nicola grew increasingly tired, and nausea and mild fever were her constant bedmates. More constant than Riddick, in fact. He'd still check on her, but he seemed distant, wary of her fragility. Which made her resentful, irritable. Something morbid in his vigil, but she couldn't identify it beyond his emotional withdrawal. And even that... it was only a feeling, a return to the cold aloofness he'd exhibited when she'd first met him.
It was only on the rare nights she woke to find him staring at her, glimpses of something conflicted in his eyes, pain and longing that lasted only a moment in the shadows before he clamped down on it or turned away.
He wasn't there for the birth, by choice or design, she didn't know. But the doctors induced labor a week early, concern for her deteriorating health, the constant dehydration of fever and nausea. But the next evening, after she, the baby - Jacqueline - her own acknowledgment of Riddick's pet name, and the child's assigned wet nurse returned to her suite, he was waiting.
He watched her settle on the bed, waiting to approach and join her. Caught in the matriarchal glow and swirl of mild painkillers, Nicola couldn't help but be amused by his cautious approach. He was in alien territory, she mused, as he sat beside her and gazed at the bundle she held out for inspection. Apprehension was the only word she could give his mixed look. Something confused and vulnerable flitted across his face. "You can hold her, she's sleeping" Nicola offered softly. She leaned forward, transferring the blanketed newborn to her father's arm. It was adorable and silly to see the tiny body balanced on his forearm, and the awkward care of the big hands surrounding her. What would a predator do with a baby? she thought ruefully. Jaqueline sneezed then, opening her eyes. There was silence for a long second, as baby regarded father through blurry blue eyes. Then she started to wail. Riddick tensed.
Nicola tried not to snicker as Riddick gave her an unnerved look. The wet nurse hurried up and gently removed the crying child from the big man's frozen arms. She soothed the infant and retreated to the sitting room-turned-nursery. Nicola leaned back wearily. The child continued to fuss in the other room, and Riddick looked at her sideways.
"What's she doing?"
"Trying to feed her. She's the wet nurse after all." Riddick made a face.
"You're not going to...?" Nicola shook her head.
"I'm exhausted. And the doctors recommended it. Especially so I can get back to work soon." Nicola shut her eyes. She really did ache. Everywhere. She was only mildly feeling guilty at her daughter's fussing in the next room. The doctors said this woman was a professional though, something she, herself would never be.
The shift in weight as Riddick left the bed roused her, as did the startled cry of the woman in the next room. As she sat up, Riddick was already back on the bed. Only 2 seconds had lapsed. He held the girl out to her, something painful visible in his eyes.
"You need to feed her." Nicola blinked at him, uncomprehending as he foisted the bundle on her gracelessly.
"What? Riddick, I'm tired. She'll get used to the wet nurse, it's..."
"No. She needs you. I need you to do this." He shook his head, unable to explain.
"I don't..."
"Please."
She gaped at him. That was not Riddick language. She'd have been less shocked if he'd pulled a knife on her and demanded it. He refused to meet her eyes now, getting up suddenly, pacing to the door of his room and back to her. Nicola slowly undid the buttons on her blouse and let the baby suckle. Jacqueline quieted immediately. Riddick suddenly dropped to his knees beside the bed, his hands were shaking, which startled her more. He took her face in his hands, kissing her fiercely once and then was back on his feet again.
"I have to go." He muttered, and was gone.
Nicola stared at the closed door. Riddick had never kissed her before. Never. And it was something she'd have time to ponder the meaning of, because she wouldn't seen him again for nearly half a decade. He borrowed a skiff, headed for Furya and two weeks later disappeared.
