Sandra swipes at her father's suit with a lint roller, determined to get every stray cat hair she can find off his dark navy suit. This is one of his newer, more expensive ensembles, with a crisp white shirt and blue tie. He looks incredibly dapper and if it wasn't for his mystery date, she's sure he'd come home complaining about all the women hitting on him at the banquet. She makes a mental note to tell the dry cleaner to look for stains on the crotch when they drop the suit off for cleaning later in the week, because with the way he's dressed tonight, she suspects his date will have her way with him.

He's incredibly upbeat about this banquet, or maybe his mood is elevated because of his date. "Daddy, you look insanely handsome," she tells him as she gazes over his shoulder at his reflection in the mirror. "Here, better take some tissues." A full box is in her hand as she thrusts it toward him.

"Try not to kill your sister tonight," he says as he folds a few tissues into his pocket rather than argue with her.

"What if I just put a gag in her mouth and tape her to the wall so she can't move?"

"Try not to do that, either."

"Alright, but I'm not making any promises," she grumbles.

Dave arrives at JJ's home a couple minutes early. It's an older neighborhood with well-kept bungalows and two-story duplexes. Her duplex has a small yard with a white picket fence all the way around it and flower beds near the front entry. She comes to the door quickly when he knocks.

"I'm glad you're early, please come in," she says standing aside so he can step through the door.

"Are you sure?"

"I know, I'm already breaking one of my rules, but I need your help to zip up my dress and then I need to get my shoes and touch up my cosmetics, so you may as well wait inside."

JJ and her rules – her therapist calls them personal boundaries, and they are in place to keep her from slipping back into her previous hit-it-and-quit-it lifestyle. When she called him last night, she put the brakes on what they were doing, even asked him to delete the photos she sent. "I'm still working on myself," she told him, "and I slipped up by sending you these selfies. You're very attractive, Dave, but I know it would be a mistake for the two of us to get involved right now."

"What about in the future?"

She hadn't expected him to persist. He's come a long way from the guy who was hesitant about even making a coffee date with someone. "Well…do you think that would be wise? Maybe if neither one of us is seeing anyone and we both feel like we're ready…I don't know. I worry that if we get together and it doesn't work out, then I'm not just losing you as a friend, I'm also losing Laura and Bill, and Sandra and Cheryl. That's a huge risk for me to take."

Her reasoning had made perfect sense to him. If they pursue a relationship and it turns sour, he will still have his family. But the Adamas have been her family for a long time, and now his three daughters, and his granddaughter that will arrive soon. JJ holds dear the people she loves, and she demonstrated that by watching after Sandra and assigning KC to cover the VIP birthday party last month.

With some reluctance, he agreed with what she was telling him. He even offered her an out, stating that perhaps it would be better if he went alone to the banquet, but she shot that idea down, saying she had agreed to go and she didn't want to leave him to the hungry hoard of women. "We're both adults who got caught up acting like horny college students. We can fake date this banquet to death," she had said. So they agreed on a time that he would pick her up, and she told him her rule is that whether it's a fake date or a real date, the gentleman does not enter her home the first night.

Except he is in her home now, and her back is turned to him with a zipper on her green dress that is only halfway zipped up. "I'm sorry, is this too awkward for you?" she asks. "I could call my tenant next door and see if she can help me."

"I can handle it," he assures her, carefully zipping the dress and hooking it at the top. Her skin is soft when his fingers graze across her back a few times, but he tells himself not to linger, even though lingering would feel fantastic. He hasn't given up hope that someday they may pursue a relationship, but now is not the time. Now she needs to know that he can be trusted and stay true to his word, and that is to refrain from the outrageous flirting that almost got them into trouble last night.

"Thank you, hun," she says, then motions for him to have a seat on the sofa. "I'll be back in a few minutes. I promise I won't make us late."

The home is tastefully decorated with some prints of Tauron artwork on the walls, a few shelves containing small collectibles from her travels, and then a large bookcase to the side of the sofa. There he finds several books on finance and business management, and along the row second from the top are various history books about the colonies, many of which are about Tauron. They appear well-read and many have dog-eared pages. There are a few others regarding religion and the afterlife, one on Elysium. When JJ returns from upstairs, she finds him with an old family photo album on his lap.

"Jennifer, you were an adorable child," he says looking up at her with a warm smile.

"Gosh, nobody's called me Jennifer in years," she replies, "and even then, only my parents called me by that name."

"Do they live around here?"

"Oh," she replies, her face falling flat. "No, I lost them several years ago. I assumed Bill told you."

"No, he didn't say anything. I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's okay. It was the MAGLEV bombing," she quickly explains. "Are you ready?"

"Uh, yeah," he says looking at her curiously. "I hope I didn't-"

"No, honey, you didn't do anything. It was a long time ago and I dealt with it then. My grandparents raised me after that. I had a very loving childhood," she assures him, seating herself next to him and taking his hand between hers.

"You had to have been close to Sandra's age when you lost them."

"Yes, within a few years. I can understand how she feels, although I'm sure it's different for everyone."

"Knowing you now, I would have never guessed this happened to you. You're so strong and independent – it gives me hope for Sandra."

"She's strong, too. She'll need some time to figure this out, but I'm confident she will. I know it was upsetting to you when she ran off last month, but she ran toward someone who could help. She didn't try to numb her pain with substances. It was her idea to go back to campus and try to explain what happened, and to start seeing someone to help her deal with her grief. That's a smart girl making good decisions. She's maturing in the way she addresses problems. A lot of that is because of you, so don't forget to give yourself some credit, alright?"

"Thank you," he says, placing his free hand over hers. "Sometimes I need to hear things like that, and your perspective means a lot to me. We should probably get going," he says, glancing at the clock on the bookcase.

They slowly release their hands and stand simultaneously. Her green dress brings out the green flecks in her eyes, and her updo adds an air of classiness to her look. The lipstick she has chosen is toned down from the selfie she sent him. While her appearance was more erotic last night, he prefers her current look – an intelligent, attractive woman who happens to be looking back at him, wondering why they haven't left yet.

"Why are you staring at me, honey? Did I mess up my makeup?"

"No," he laughs softly. "You're beautiful."

The pizza is ordered, and Sandra waits on the sofa, hoping it arrives soon because she's been unusually hungry all day. Stress eating has never been a problem for her, but now she wonders because her appetite didn't go into overdrive until her father informed her she had to stay alone with Cheryl because Laura needs her rest the night before her presentation.

Her ornery little sister's latest attempt at getting under her skin is to constantly flush the toilet while she's trying to study. When told to stop, she pees and poops in the toilet and leaves it, innocently stating she is just following her father's orders not to flush. Occasionally loud noises and giggles come from her room but are spread out just far enough that she's uncertain if Cheryl's doing it to bother her.

This morning she woke up to find a cat turd in the middle of her bedspread. Fletcher has never pooped outside his litterbox, and since it had some clay stuck to it, Sandra suspects Cheryl fished it out of the box and flung it onto her bed sometime during the night. Why? Whatever the reason, she's sick of it. It will take a miracle for them to get through the evening without a huge fight.

The doorbell rings and as Sandra walks to the entryway, she calls to Cheryl that the pizza has arrived. Taking the money off the table, she opens the door, and to her surprise, there is no pizza. "Jeff?"

"Sorry to bother you at home – is your dad here? He's not answering his phone."

"He's at the banquet."

"Oh, crap, is that tonight?"

"Yeah, it is. Is there a problem?"

"No, I can try to catch him early in the morning."

"Daddy says no boys in the house while he's gone," Cheryl warns from down the hallway.

"He's here looking for daddy," Sandra informs her.

"Right. I'm gonna tell when daddy gets home. And where's the damn pizza? I'm hungry."

Sandra glances at the ceiling, biting her tongue as Cheryl wanders back into her room and slams the door. "Jeff, how would you like a little sister? You can just have her. In fact, I'll give you this money to take her away."

"She can't be that bad, can she?"

Arching her eyebrows, she draws in a sharp breath and glances at him with a small smile. "You have no idea."

Just then, the pizza arrives. "Ohhh, this smells so good," Sandra declares as she takes it from the driver and pays him, leaving a generous tip.

"I'll let you go. Enjoy your pizza," Jeff says, turning back toward the steps.

"Nope," she replies, grabbing his hand. "Why don't you join us? Unless you have someplace else to be. You can keep me from killing my demon sister."

"Free pizza and a job as a peacekeeper? Sounds like fun – count me in."

The banquet is in a large conference center located on the second floor of the student union on campus. University administrators from across the colonies are in attendance, many along with their significant others. A few go over the top, arriving in limos, and some take advantage of valet parking. JJ assures Dave she can walk the short block-and-a-half from his regular parking lot to the union.

He insists on opening the car door for her and helping her from his vehicle, offering his arm once she stands so they can enter the banquet appearing as a real couple. She finds it fun to be treated this way, having so rarely experienced the attention of a man with real manners in what seems like forever.

As they walk together, they whisper about their fake dating history in case it should come up in conversation. They also decide to introduce her as Jennie Jorgenson, Dave preferring to call her Jen when they talk to each other.

"Should I call you David?"

"Please don't. Larissa always insisted on calling me David."

The first person to see them is Dean Stockwell and, judging by the look of surprise on his face, he wasn't expecting Dave to arrive with a date.

"It's nice to meet you, Jennie. My wife Sharon will be disappointed she couldn't make it tonight. She's made it her mission to find Dave another date, but I think he's done just fine by himself. How long have you been together?"

Dave explains that they've known each other for a while and just recently decided to go out. It's on the light side of lying, which is where he prefers to be with his boss and colleagues. Dean Gregory Stockwell, being the charmer he is and a bachelor for the night, instantly takes to Jennie, chatting with her about what she does for a living. After inviting her to sit with him at his table, he leads her away leaving Dave alone by the bar.

Great, my boss steals my date, and a woman is already smiling at me, he thinks to himself.

In a manner of a few minutes, three women approach him, recognizing him from his book and from the few times his picture was on television. They're all charming, hanging on every word he says, giggling when he talks, and standing close to him. Jennie notices how uncomfortable he is, so she excuses herself from the Dean's table to claim her fake date.

"Honey, why don't you come join me at Dean Stockwell's table," she says, slipping her hand into his while making eye contact with each of the women, letting them know this man is taken.

"Excuse me, ladies," he says as they walk away together. "I'd prefer not to be separated from you," he whispers. "And can you hold my hand a lot, do you mind?"

"I'll hold your hand all night if you need me to. Those women are aggressive."

Throughout dinner they put on a good display, occasionally touching, sitting close together, gazing at each other. After dessert, Dave relaxes during the presentations, placing his arm around her chair until he's called to give his speech and present the award to Dean Stockwell.

She admires the way he can speak off-the-cuff and charm the crowd. And she'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit he looks damn good tonight. She's not the only who thinks so based on the response of many female members of the audience after he finishes his speech and presents Dean Stockwell with his award.

"Very impressive," she compliments him as he returns to his seat next to her, not hesitating to grab his hand and intertwine their fingers.

During dinner Cheryl takes the opportunity to discuss her father's book with Jeff, who seems astounded at her insight on the subject matter. She inquires about his thoughts on Earth and its possible location.

"I have no clue," he replies. "What do you think?"

For the next ten minutes she discusses probable locations beyond the red line, and the possibility that their ancient ancestors left markers along the way, maybe even a map somewhere. Jeff sits in silence, blinking at her, trying to take it all in.

"Cher, do you wanna watch a movie after we're done eating?" Sandra asks, trying to get her to change the subject.

"Nah, I'm gonna do what daddy said and be quiet in my room. I'm teaching Fletch a new trick."

"Well, okay. If you change your mind, I'll be in the living room."

After Cheryl leaves, Jeff helps Sandra clean up the kitchen and put the leftovers away.

"Is she always like that?"

"Not always. She was actually pretty decent tonight. Maybe because you're here?"

"You said she was smart, but I had no idea."

"Oh, yeah, Cheryl's really smart. She'll probably have a PhD by the time she's a teenager."

"That's amazing! Were you like that?"

"No. Laurie and I were smart at that age, but nothing like that. Cheryl has a high IQ, and none of us knew it until after our mom died. But she's turned into a demon child lately, really manipulative. I think daddy is going to have his hands full with her."

"Did you go through a demon child phase?"

"Not until I was 15. Laurie went through hers at 13. Cheryl's starting early, but maybe that means she'll grow out of it faster and be a tame teenager." She wipes down the table and rinses the rag in the sink. "Wanna stay and watch a movie with me?"

"Sure. What're you watching?"

"Viper Squadron II. It's Cheryl's favorite, and I'm trying to make the effort to get on her good side. But I'm going to warn you, in my head I'm married to Rebound, so if you could please refer to me as Mrs. Rebound from now on, I'd appreciate it."

"You know, some people say I look like him," he says, flashing those dimples and big brown eyes at her.

This is the most hilarious thing Mrs. Rebound has ever heard him say. "Oh, you WISH you looked like him. In your dreams, 3!" she cackles.

When the last presentation is made, the lights come up at the banquet and people are left to socialize and network. Dave works the room with Jen at his side, and she's surprisingly adept at engaging in conversation with administrators and faculty. She's particularly interested in the conversation Dave's having with a history professor from the University of Tauron City, asking pertinent questions that he has never thought of asking.

Later when she excuses herself to the ladies' room, Dean Stockwell approaches Dave. "She's impressive. I can't wait for Sharon to meet her. I'm assuming you're bringing her to the history department dinner next week?"

"If she's available," Dave replies, uncertain if she will be willing to fake date again.

"If she isn't, Sharon and I will find a night to have both of you over for dinner. Let me know some nights that work for both of you."

"Sure," Dave sputters, wondering how this is going to play out.

"There she is," the Dean says. "I was just telling Dave that Sharon and I would love to have both of you over for dinner some night, Jennie."

"That sounds wonderful!" she exclaims, giving Dave's hand a squeeze. "I'll need to look at my schedule and then get back to you with some times that work."

People begin to trickle out of the banquet, Dave and Jen being among the last ones there. His level of vigor this late into the event is unusual and he suspects it has to do with the woman at his side. She's more than capable of engaging in discussions, minus the agenda that he always felt Larissa had who was constantly going out of her way trying to impress his colleagues. They stay much later than he intended, finally deciding to make the short walk to the parking lot so he can take her home.

On the drive, he discovers that she minored in history while in college, her sweet laugh filling the car as she recalls how her advisor thought it was ridiculous for a business major to minor in something as mundane and far-removed from business as history.

He instinctively reaches for her hand as they continue to chat and laugh on the way back to her place, then he realizes his gesture may give the wrong impression. "I'm sorry, it just felt natural to do that."

"You're forgiven," she replies, giving him a furtive glance before slowly withdrawing her hand.

"I'm going to talk with the Dean tomorrow and tell him we're not actually dating. I have no right to ask you to have dinner with us, and I'm not comfortable misleading him."

"Oh, if that's what you want," she says disappointedly. "I was kind of looking forward to it."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I enjoyed myself tonight, and your boss is a hoot! But I can understand not wanting to lie to him."

"Let me talk to him tomorrow. Maybe he'd still like to have us over. I can let you know."

When they arrive at her place, he parks in the driveway, then exits the vehicle and asks her to wait so that he can open her car door for her. He offers his hand much like he did in the parking lot on campus, then indicates he will walk her to the door.

Hesitating, she says, "Fake dates don't usually escort each other to the door. I can't let you come in, Dave."

"I assure you I only have your well-being in mind. I always make sure my dates get inside safely. It's a habit."

She relaxes a little, believing he truly is being a gentleman, and when they arrive at the door, she turns to him. "Since you're here, could I ask you to unhook my dress and lower the zipper so I can reach it?"

"Sure, Jen," he replies, the soft whisper of her name creating a flutter in her chest.

The front entry is dimly lit, so he squints and lowers his face closer to her to see what he's doing. His breath on the back of her neck causes her to close her eyes, the sweet sensation sending electricity throughout her body.

"Sorry, I almost have it," he says, sensing they are both more aroused than they should be. With his lips dangerously close to her skin, his mind warns him to keep his thoughts on something other than how delicious her skin must taste. "Got it," he breathes with a relieved sigh.

"And the zipper?" she asks when he steps back from her.

"Right," he says. This one shouldn't require the close proximity.

The tip of his thumb drags down her spine as he slowly lowers the zipper partway, then asks if it's far enough. Her hand reaches up behind her, showing him it's still a few inches off.

This feeling of him undressing her evokes a wanton urge inside of her. It's dangerous because it would be so easy to act on what she's feeling.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you." She removes a key from her clutch and inserts it into the lock.

"Um, Jen," he begins.

"Yes?" she responds, turning toward him once the door opens.

"You haven't told me what you want in return for accompanying me to the banquet."

It takes every ounce of her to resist licking her lips at him, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside, running her hands up his chest and pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders onto the floor.

I want to invite you in. Have you finish unzipping my dress and slowly peel it from my body. Wrap my legs around you while your lips feast on my throat. I want to taste you, ride you, scream your name, then fall asleep in your arms.

A slow blink banishes her thoughts. "Nothing," she shrugs. "I meant it when I said I enjoyed myself tonight. Have a goodnight, Dave."

It's well past 11 pm before Dave pulls into the garage and quietly enters the kitchen. The lamps in the living room are on and as he approaches, he notices two people snuggled together on the sofa. Walking around to the front, he finds Sandra asleep with her head on Jeff's shoulder, her arm draped across his mid-section holding him close, while Jeff's arm is curled around her shoulders, his head leaned over the back of the sofa.

Not wanting to startle them, he gently touches his finger to his daughter's cheek, sliding it down to her jaw.

"Hrmm," she sighs, snuggling her face even further into Jeff and gripping his waist, causing him to stir slightly and strengthen his grip on her.

"Sandra," Dave whispers. "Honey, wake up."

"What?" she manages to groan, squinting up at him confused.

"It's time for bed."

"Can't I just stay here," she mumbles, still clinging to Jeff.

"I prefer you sleep in your bed."

Suddenly her eyes pop open, appearing to be more awake. Releasing Jeff from her grip, she sits up straight, her eyes traveling from him to her father. "Oh, shit. We were watching a movie, I swear."

He believes her. The amused grin on his face prompts her to gently shake Jeff to awaken him.

"Ow…oh…Gods my neck," he says having trouble lifting his head.

"Try a pillow next time," Dave advises.

"Oh, shit, Dr. Roslin! We were watching a movie-"

"And you fell asleep. Sandra, why don't you change for bed? I need to talk with Jeff for a little bit."

Sandra hesitates, her wide eyes looking at Jeff, who is staring back. "Can't I stay?"

"No, it's a private conversation."

"Um, alright," she says, placing her hand on her chest, apologizing to Jeff with her eyes. The thought that something so innocent could get Jeff into trouble with her father gives her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

After she leaves, Dave sits next to Jeff on the sofa.

"I forgot about the banquet and I came here looking for you, then Sandra asked if I wanted pizza, and then we watched a movie, and we fell asleep. Nothing happened, I swear, Dr. Roslin."

Dave looks the young man over, careful not to reveal what he's thinking. Sometimes guys need to sweat a little bit, a technique he learned that worked on most of Laura's dates when she was younger. But he does like Jeff, and if he were to find out there was some canoodling between him and Sandra in the evening, he'd think that was okay. As long as it didn't go beyond canoodling, especially with Cheryl in the house.

Judging by the level of nervousness and genuine anguish on Sandra's face when she realized what happened, he knows nothing went on between them, and he doesn't see the point in torturing Jeff any longer.

"Relax, Jeff. I believe you. I read your texts and wanted to know if you would like to discuss your grad assistant contract now or in the morning."

"I have a question – is there a mistake in the housing compensation?"

"No, we were able to get more money for that. And if you don't use it all for rent, you can use the rest for utilities or food or whatever. It'll be a monthly stipend on top of your pay."

"Wow, that's really generous. Thank you, Dr. Roslin. I probably won't even need to have a roommate next year."

"Is there anything else?"

"No. I'll sign it and turn it in tomorrow morning."

"Alright," Dave says as he stands. "You have a goodnight, Jeff. I'll let Sandra know you're leaving. She can lock up behind you."

As soon as he knocks on her bedroom door, she answers in her pajamas. "Yes?"

"Could you let Jeff out?"

"Yes."

While Dave takes a quick peek into Cheryl's room and then turns to go upstairs, Sandra shuffles to Jeff in the entryway, putting her arms around him in a big embrace, then pulling back and holding his face in her hands. "I didn't hear yelling. Are you okay? Is he mad? Did he fire you? I'm so sorry."

"He believed me when I said nothing happened. Don't worry. Everything's fine."

"Thank the Gods," she says flinging her arms around him again, hanging off his neck due to their height difference. "I'd never forgive myself if you got into trouble with him because of me."

"No trouble. We're good," he assures her. They hug each other for a long time until he feels her finally relax in his arms.

"I should go to bed. Be careful driving home, Jeff," she says when she unclasps her hands from behind his neck, smiling sweetly at him.

"I will. Thanks for the pizza and movie – I had fun tonight. Don't forget to lock the door."

On the ride to school the next morning, Cheryl declares that she likes Jeff, he's cute, and her sister's crazy if she's not dating him. A lot of discussion follows with Sandra lamenting that the last thing she needs is dating advice from her 4-year-old sister. It's better than having both of them yelling at each other, which has become routine over the last few weeks, so Dave decides to let them have this discussion as long as they remain civil.

Once Cheryl has been dropped off, Sandra reiterates that nothing happened between her and Jeff last night. Her father's laid-back attitude about it combined with the fact he got home much later than he intended makes her suspicious that his date rocked his world. He, of course, refuses to discuss the previous evening's activities outside of the banquet, and offers no hints who this mystery woman was that accompanied him to such a boring event, boring according to Sandra.

"We had a good time. She enjoyed the banquet," he assures her. His thoughts switch to the impending conversation he'll have with Dean Stockwell, explaining that Jen is a good friend that agreed to be his date so that other women wouldn't hit on him. He doubts the dean will be upset, but he must be careful how he approaches the conversation.

Sandra attends her 3-hour chemistry lab in the morning, grateful that there are only a few more before the semester is over. Lunch with Willow follows, and they make plans for the dorm party Friday night knowing there will also only be a few more before the semester ends. Her father has begun to let her spend the night with her friend those evenings, saving him the trouble of waking Cheryl so he can drive to campus to pick her up at midnight. After lunch, she heads to the library to work on her children's lit original story and sketches. Despite her recent frustrations with the youngest Roslin, Sandra delights in incorporating much of her sister's personality and antics into the namesake character.

"Mrs. Rebound, I thought I might find you here," says a voice through the door of her reserved study room.

"You may enter, 3," she replies with a smirk.

"That's very generous of you. I come bearing water for your afternoon studies."

"Thank you, please take a seat."

"How are you today?" he asks, breaking from their formal conversation.

"I'm good. How's your neck?"

"Stiff, painful. But I'll get over it. Nothing some stretches and pain reliever can't fix."

"Can I try? I feel like I owe you since it's sort of my fault."

"Uh, sure?" he replies, wondering what she has in mind until she stands and places her hands on his neck and shoulders. "Oh, that feels…pretty good…not gonna lie," he says sitting up straight.

"That's the kind of feedback a girl needs. Let me know if anything hurts and I'll be gentle."

Over the next several minutes she kneads, pokes, digs, and works out the knots on his neck and shoulders. His occasional groans cause her to let up until he assures her it feels good. Along the way, she decides to apologize. "I'm sorry I…cuddled you…last night. I didn't know I was a cuddler."

"So you're a snuggle-bunny – it's no big deal. I'm a snuggle-bunny, too."

"A what?" she giggles.

"Snuggle-bunny! That's what we call it in my family. I've been one my entire life," he proudly states.

Her light snorts and occasional giggles put a smile on his face as she continues to massage him, then a loud knock on the door causes both of them to jump. "No foreplay in the study room! That's a great way to lose reservation privileges for a semester!" the loud, booming voice warns.

"Oh, my Gods," Sandra says, removing her hands from him, mortified that someone would think they were up to something salacious.

"That's better!" the voice says before the person leaves.

She drops down into the chair next to him, too embarrassed to look at him.

"Hey, Sandra," he says, slowly reaching for her hand. "It's okay. That was just Mrs. Plumpkin. She always thinks students are having sex in these rooms. Don't let it bother you."

"Alright," she sighs with a roll of her eyes. "Did it help?"

"Yes, I feel better, thank you."

Since her blood pressure has stabilized and this is her final work activity before going on maternity leave, Laura's doctor gives her blessing to attend the education conference. Her presentation is midway through the afternoon, cutting into her nap time. Principal Lindstrom sits with her at a table, insisting that she use a spare chair to keep her feet elevated until it's time for her talk.

It goes well for her, her nerves settling down after the first few slides, and the attendees seem to be paying attention to her ideas. Nobody seems to have a scowl on their face, which she takes as a good sign. On her tenth slide out of thirty, she shifts her weight from one leg to the next, feeling a trickle slide from her core down the inside of her thigh. She pauses, glancing at Principal Lindstrom, then gathers herself and continues, shifting her weight again a few slides later. Another trickle slides down her leg, followed by a sharp twinge in her abdomen.

Remaining calm, she addresses her boss and the crowd. "Principal Lindstrom, will you please take over my presentation? Please excuse me, everyone, I believe my water just broke."