iAm Yours, As You Are Mine

It was a hazy Saturday morning at Bushwell Plaza. The previous night had been fight night, and, rather than leave Wendy to care for an injured Shelby on her own, the prizefighter and her pregnant partner found themselves being shuttled across town to Bushwell by twin blondes. Sam had agreed to this solely for the opportunity to jump behind the wheel of Shelby's restored muscle car. Her sister, however, always the doting mother hen, had managed both to make Wendy comfortable in the back seat of her own car for the cross-town drive, arguing with Sam in hushed tones before leaving the home that Wendy and Shelby had made for themselves.

"Oh, Samantha, please…. It's just you and Carly… Spencer gives you two plenty of space, and have you looked at Wendy recently? The poor girl needs some looking after…"

Sam grumbled, shoving her fists into her pants pockets, looking down at her shoes.

"What was that?" Melanie asked sweetly.

It didn't matter. Melanie knew her sister better than that. She and Shelby Marx looked like they were made of steel, but Mythical Melanie knew that her sister was really Carly's little cream puff.

BACK IN THE PRESENT…

The elevator dinged and its doors yawned open, depositing a very pregnant Wendy Miller into the middle of Carly Shay's living room. Melanie sat up, partially dressed and hair mussed, from the sofa, where she'd fallen asleep with Freddie. She was thankful that Wendy had had the good sense to use the elevator, rather than attempt to take the stairs. She was far too much in a family way to even attempt the stairs from the third floor.

"Well, Good Morning!"

Melanie was chipper, even at this hour of the morning. She smiled at Shelby Marx's other half, gently nudging her still-sleeping husband in an attempt to clear enough room for Wendy on the sofa.

Wendy yawned, making her way to where the pretty blonde sat.

"How is Shelby?" Melanie continued, sensing concern and sadness on her friend's face.

"Sore…"

The voice came from the stairs leading down from the third floor of the loft. It was Shelby.

Melanie knew that the fight had ended quickly, but she had no way of knowing what kind of toll her years in the ring may have taken on Shelby's body. The lanky brunette navigated the stairs slowly. Last night had been a good one, so far as sleep was concerned, but she was still tender, nonetheless. Wendy was upset. She hated the mornings after fight nights. She wanted to run to Shelby and protect her.

"Honey…"

Wendy was going nowhere, gently restrained by the embrace of Melanie Benson.

"Wendy, no… She's alright; she's just a little sore…"

Shelby knew that none of this was any use. She spoke forcefully, but gently. Hopefully Wendy would believe the words coming from her lips instead.

"I know you worry about me, Pumpkin… but really, I'm okay. Nothing more than icing down a few bruises, really…"

Wendy looked across the room, in search of her partner's eyes. She instinctively knew the truth. It was the out-of-control hormones compounding her own worst fears. Shelby's eyes told Wendy that there was absolutely nothing to fear.

Melanie Benson felt the heat of embarrassment flush through her entire body. She could think of a dozen places that she'd rather be at this very moment rather than caught between Wendy and Shelby, as well as Carly and Sam's own drama. Her sister was helpful, sure, but Melanie wished that Sam was somewhere beside in the bathroom with Carly, helping her wash places now long out of reach. Wanting to be anywhere other than stuck in the middle, Melanie sat patiently and waited for Shelby to cross the floor. Wendy was finally contented; back in Shelby's bruised hands. The fighter held her partner gingerly, trying to allow the blonde and her beau enough room to be comfortable.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER…

Sam and Carly descended the stairs from the second floor. They had just come from the bathroom adjoining Carly's childhood bedroom, which they now shared. They were both fully dressed. Carly's head was wrapped in a towel. Sam's blonde locks fall down her back in a damp ponytail, reminiscent of a style Melanie might wear.

Sam stood behind Carly, cradling the Cupcake's dainty, well-manicured fingers in her palm. Carly loved her, but resented being treated like a porcelain doll.

"Sam! I can manage by myself…"

"The Doc says otherwise, Cupcake."

Carly grumbled quietly to herself. She knew that arguing with Mama was no use, especially when she knew that Sam had her very best interests at heart. Descending the stairs, Carly was greeted by a house full of guests. Melanie and Freddie had met the couple at the foot of the stairs, while the remaining couple had taken over the sofa. Though swollen and uncomfortable in her own right, Wendy was intent on nursing her beloved's injuries. She cooed over Shelby, resting bags of ice over her partner's swollen knuckles.

"Oh, Shelby… I wish… can't this all be over? You mean so much…"

The fighter spoke gently, in whispers meant only for her partner, though she knew her friends could hear. She didn't care. They knew her. They knew who the real Shelby Marx was and didn't care. She had nothing to hide from these people.

"Wendy, please… We've been over this. Three more and I'm done… I promise… REALLY…"

Wendy removed the ice bag, kissing Shelby's purple knuckles. The prizefighter winced, ever so slightly, though she tried to hide it. The warmth of Wendy's breath was soothing, though it had inadvertently brought pain to the surface. Wendy was as gentle as she could be. In a very real way, she held her entire world in her hands.

LATER, AFTER BREAKFAST…

The six friends lay around the apartment, each in the arms of their significant other. Melanie had assisted Sam in wrapping and bandaging Shelby's hands, solely to keep down the swelling. Shelby Marx was tough and could 'play through the pain', but all parties involved agreed with Wendy that despite how tough Shelby thought she was, there was no need for her to suffer unnecessarily. The group sat around the television. They paid very little attention to the Girly Cow marathon, discussing instead the arrival of the Marx baby, as Wendy's due date was slightly more than two weeks away.

"Are you nervous?" Carly asked, anxiety entering her own voice for a split second.

Since becoming pregnant, Wendy had acquired a mouth somewhere between Sam's and Shelby's. She was sarcastic, flippant, and caustic.

"Nervous? No… not at all… All I have to do is pass something similar to a bowling ball out of an…"

Shelby cut her off, thoroughly embarrassed.

"WENDY SUE! I think we could all do without the visual, thank you very much, young lady… I believe high school health class has prepared us well enough for all of that…"

The redhead in Shelby's arms instantly grew hot.

"Sorry…"

Shelby stroked Wendy's head gently with her bruised fingers, chuckling.

"It's alright… We all love you..."

Nearby, Carly lolled her head back, looking up into Sam's eyes. They didn't need to speak a word between them, but Sam knew that Carly was thanking her for doting on her the way she had of late. Carly would never admit, even to Sam, how difficult the past few months had been for her. She knew that it would all be worth it in the end – when she and Sam could hold their own little babies and worry absentmindedly over their futures. Everything that needed saying Carly's eyes seemed to say. Sam simply knew her that well.