Epilog
The first one was difficult; although Stinger had seen how it was done once or twice he'd never been involved directly. There was a lot of cursing, some suggestions from Kiza and supreme patience from his queen, but in the end, after all the labor, sweat, and beer, he and Gina beamed at the sturdy little hive box.
"Gorgeous," she told him, nuzzling his cheek as she did so. "The very first one. We'll put it right in the middle of the herb garden."
"Aye," Stinger agreed, wiping his brow and grinning, "That will showcase it nicely, once it's painted, which is your job I might add."
"I know, I know," Gina murmured, waddling away to look at the back of the box. "We'll do something cheerful."
"No bees. No extra bees, that is. And no black and yellow stripes," came the grumble.
"Spoilsport. I could always do starsssssssssssssssssooooh," Gina managed, her comment stretching out into an uncomfortable groan.
Stinger shot her a sharp gaze, waiting.
Finally she bit her lip meeting it with an embarrassed half-smile. "Uhnnn, yeah. I think so."
Even as the words left her lips, a buzzing cloak surrounded her, a protective veil that Stinger brushed through as he slipped an arm around his queen's waist and tried to stay calm. "We're fine," he assured her. "You've been taking the jelly, we know what to do, we've been preparing for nine months."
The words were true, but Stinger felt the tension coil in his gut. A good tension, but still there, still sending signals to the drone within him to protect. Gina let him help her to the ottoman and sat down heavily.
"Yes, we are. So I think you'd best send that call up to the captain, and I'll . . . juuuust do some breathing here."
"Right." Stinger circled around, aware of the bees clustering again around Gina. "I'll just call . . ."
She fished the com' out of her pocket, tossing it up to him with a tight smile. "It was my day to carry it. Want me to text Kiza?"
"Yes. NO!" he spluttered when Gina let out another long groan. "So just how long have you been . . . . y'know, all having it?"
"Few . . . hours," she admitted, "Didn't want to get you all distracted from the hive box."
"Arrh!" Stinger swooped down, kissed her hard, and rolled his eyes. "You are the most devious person I've ever seen outside a mirror! Fine! Calling, unless you plan to drop this grub right here and now!"
"Don't. Tempt. Me," Gina managed through gritted teeth. She weakly grinned though, to show she wasn't serious, and motioned for him to get on with it.
Stinger gave her another sharp glance before activating the device. He wanted his tone to be authoritative, but the huskiness got in the way. "Ah, Captain . . . believe it's time."
"All right then. Dispatching med tech now, and congratulations," came T'sing's infuriatingly calm reply.
"Easy for you to say," Stinger muttered and clicked the device off.
-oo00oo—
Gina tried to order him to build the rest of the boxes. For—well, not the first time, but certainly one of the rare times- Stinger ignored her demand. He stayed planted on the stool at the side of the bed, mopping her brow, holding her hand, and when needed, distracting her as best he could.
The med tech, Ando Fortinax, was a sturdy fellow—a hedgehog Splice with huge pink hands and a gleaming overbite. He hummed as he worked, every action deliberate and gentle, and Stinger felt glad that at least one of them in the room was calm.
"All right, things are going well," he told them a few hours later. "You'll feel a shift as the baby starts down the canal, so bear down when you get the urge, your highness."
"Will . . . . dooo," Gina huffed, and Stinger lightly pressed the damp cloth against her cheek. Several of the larger workers were a foot over her face, swarming in circles to create a breeze, which helped.
"Water?" Stinger asked for the seventh time. Gina ignored him and leaned forward, her face squinched in an expression that told him her concentration was definitely elsewhere.
He forced himself to relax. It wasn't easy—it had never been easy—but as a soldier and a drone Stinger knew that sometimes the best course of action was to wait.
Even if he hated doing it.
"Good one, yes, a few more like that," Fortinax murmured encouragingly. "I can see the pupa now, push your highness!"
She did, and hard; Stinger felt Gina's grip tighten in his to bone-crushing intensity and he bit back his own yelp so he wouldn't distract her. Then Gina gave a hard grunt, the tech said something, and a few moments later, she loosened her hold on his palm, letting her hand drop away.
The bees circled more quickly, and Stinger blinked, looking at the tech, and the wet pale bundle in his big hands.
"Felicitations! It's a brood!" Fortinax rumbled happily.
"A brood?" Gina asked before he did, her dark eyes wide.
"Certainly. Four healthy grublets here, one definitely on the human side, and three most likely within human/apis blend." As he spoke, Stinger watched the tech carefully lay the bundle on a clean warm cloth-lined square basket and separate it out: one large wiggly being and three much smaller ones. Humming, he cleaned them all off, and bees clustered on the swaddling around the smaller three while Fortinax wrapped the largest, lifting the baby up.
"I think your ladies can care for the triplets . . . and this one . . ." he rolled his stool closer and handed the bundle to Gina, "needs you."
"I need to see them all," Gina breathlessly ordered, and Stinger rose before she'd finished saying it. He lifted the basket and carried it over, marveling at the tiny forms within it. Gina sat up and shifted the baby to one side, making room for the basket, studying over all four of her children before looking up at him.
"We have a court, my love," she grinned.
Stinger swallowed hard, reaching down to lightly touch each little daughter's cheek before shifting to the baby in Gina's embrace. "That we do. Although it's ass backwards, y'know."
Startled, Gina looked down at her son and then back up to Stinger, her shock apparent.
He laughed. "Aye, we've a prince and his ladies, my queen."
-oo00oo—
Naturally Kiza named her brother Rian, pointing out the meaning was perfect for him. Stinger couldn't argue, and Gina liked it was well so that was settled. As for the girls, it took a while to come up with Maisy, Kerry, and Zara.
The household routines jumbled up, and it took a while to get used to new schedules. Rian needed to be breastfed while his sisters took little bottles of royal jelly, and all four of them absolutely had to be kept in the same sheltered crib together or else they cried like fiends, but when that was figured out, everything else seemed to fall into place with ease.
It amazed him how quickly all the old skills came back. Rocking the babies, softly singing to them, changing and feeding and dandling them. Stinger had missed this. Both Kiza and Gina indulged him to a certain degree, letting him enjoy himself.
Which he did, very much. Maisie turned out to be a sweetly chubby child, very sweet and mild-tempered. Kerry was excitable, and prone to getting the hiccups while giggling, her little frame bouncing with every burble. Zara was smaller and quieter than her sisters, and Stinger thought she had the natural makings of a queen to her since she watched the bees constantly, turning to follow them wherever they were in the room.
And there was their son of course, with Gina's dark eyes and his own pale straw hair. A long, lanky baby with a stubborn streak to him. He seemed happiest near his sisters, and Stinger sensed a ringleader in the making.
"Comes from being the alpha grub of two strong-willed parents," he confided in Gina as the two of them sat on the roof. "We'll be in for it, just you wait a year or two."
She scooted closer, resting her head on his shoulder, and Stinger tightened his arm around her waist, looking up with her to the dark sky. The air was cooler now, and in a little while both of them would have to come back down to deal with baths and diapers and bedtime, but for now the quiet of the harvested fields under the full moon held beautiful peace.
"Well the best part is that I can, my drone," Gina whispered back. "I've got years and years now, thanks to you, and your hives."
"Our hives," Stinger reminded her. "Regina Bombini-Apini. Our hives."
She grinned up at him. "Sweet."
end