War Story Challenge - Loyalties

Written by Mia Parker

Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh. Splish. Splosh.

Mud plastered his sweat pants to his legs. Rain soaked him to the point that it just ran off in streams down his face, back, and arms. His clothes simply could not absorb anymore water. But he kept running and the clean metallic smell of clay and ozone chased him round the yard.

The rain had not let up since Tom had entered the exercise yard, and he didn't think it was going to. The guards had offered him the choice of staying in, but he had refused, preferring to run in the downpour rather than miss this chance to get outside. There were still walls of course, 12 feet high and Teflon-smooth, but at least there was a sky. It was as close to freedom as he had gotten since the government had issued the incarceration order for Homo Dominants.

He sped up as visions of that day flashed in his head.

Sloan reaching out as arms held her back, her mouth round and perfect as she repeated over and over again one word: NO!

He swiped his hand across his face to get the rain out of his eyes, ignoring the pain from his black eye. His ribs hurt more but not as bad as yesterday. The guards thought he was crazy to keep training in this condition, but he knew he would certainly go crazy if he stayed in his bunk another minute. This wasn't training; this was escape.

Back further.

The shock that went through him when he sensed the raiding party at the door; gathering Sloan in his arms and heading for the fire-escape in the colorless light of predawn. But they were already there on the roof and in the alley. Waiting.

A guard called his name. Tom ignored him. Only a little further.

Watching her in the dark while bands of cool purples and warmer oranges pulsed across her skin as she lay against him. Her presence feeling full and round and sated. He was sure then. He told her so. He remembered her laughing teasing him, saying, "And why should it be just one?"

A little further back, just another lap...

Faster.

The perfect night: her cool ivory skin heating beneath his hands, his mouth. "Are you sure?" He asked, holding himself back, on the edge of control, not sure how he would survive if she refused him now, but asking anyway because of everything at stake. The incredible rush of belonging and acceptance held in the single word she whispered: "Yes.", and she thrust up against him and ripped away every semblance of sanity and rebuilt his world in a swirl of emotions he didn't even try to understand.

"Daniels!"

As he raced by the barracks door, a hand reached out and tried to grab his arm. It was one of the day shift guards: big and meaty, but always off balance.

Tom grasped the hand and used it as a pivot, spinning around and then became the pivot himself to send the guard into the streaming wall of the barracks in a sling-shot throw. He pinned the man face to the wall and growled into his ear, "Never grab me like that again."

He felt the guns trained on him from the three towers overlooking the exercise yard. He let go and raised his hands then took three large steps away from the guard.

The guard turned and faced him.

"You son of a..." He finished by punching Tom in the stomach, where it wouldn't show when he was dressed. Tom doubled up more than necessary so as to assuage the guard's ego, then he heard the words that were his lifeline:

"You have a visitor. Get cleaned up and get to the glass room."

***

They called it the glass room because of the two way mirrors that lined one wall and the glass partition that went down the middle, dividing inmate from visitor, Dominant from Human.

The cultural/biological division that Tom had thought to cross had been made into an unyielding glass wall by the US government's ‘Declaration of War and Articles of Incarceration’. Not without reason, of course. After Zephraim Lynch's very nearly successful bombing of Congress, Tom had expected a severe reaction. But Sloan had thought them safe, right up until the end.

When Tom was escorted in, Dr. Ed Tate was already in the glass room, seated at a table with a phone, medical bag at his feet, his own escort standing a discreet distance behind and to the left. Tom went and sat down at the table on his side of the partition: a mirror image of Ed's. Simultaneously they picked up their phones.

Contact.

Ed spoke first. "Jeez, Tom. Your face! What's the other guy look like?"

In the glass Tom could see a faint reflection of his face: the black eye, the swollen jaw, the cut across his left cheek.

"I don't know. " Tom answered and gave Ed his almost-a-smile. "I haven't seen him since they took him to the infirmary."

Ed grinned. Tom chuckled, but then winced and put his hand to his stomach, still sore from the guard's punch in the yard.

"Hey, " Ed's look of amusement evaporated and he leaned closer to the glass looking at Tom with a doctor's eyes. "What other injuries have you got? Is this all just fighting, or has something else been going on? Are you OK in here?"

"I'm fine, Ed."

"Heard that before..." Ed said, then scowled and shook his head. "Hang on a sec..."

Tom watched through the glass as Ed shoved back from the table stood up and stalked over to the guard that was his escort. Ed had a good three to four inches on the guard in height and loomed over him.

The sound-proofing was excellent. Tom could not hear a thing that Ed said, even when he started shouting. But just by watching the young doctor's lips he caught the gist.

U.N. representative.... demand to examine.... Oh, yes, I will.... have every right to see.... Get him on the phone then!

In the end they could not refuse Ed. It was, after all, his brief to investigate signs of possible abuse of the inmates in the incarceration camps. Several countries, most notably Israel and Germany, had protested when the US had set up the camps. Random UN inspections had been one of the concessions that the US had made in order to avoid international censure. Tom wondered how long that would last.

Ed stood and glowered at the guard who was on the phone looking very uncomfortable. When he hung up he said something brief to Ed who turned to look at Tom, flashed him a grin and headed out the door with the guard. Tom's own guard put a hand to his earpiece and then looked at Tom and jerked his head towards the door.

"Let's go."

Tom nodded and walked out into the hall and turned right towards the infirmary. It was little more than a few rooms with cabinets and three or four beds. There was a cloudy and unfocused dominant presence at the far end where curtains were drawn around a bed. Tom noted the location in case the male regained full consciousness. He might still be interested in challenging Tom, and would certainly want revenge. But it wasn't the right time yet.

The guard motioned Tom into one of the examination rooms. Ed was waiting inside; he glanced up as he was pulling supplies out of his medical bag.

"I'll be speaking with my patient alone, thank you. I'll call you when we're through." Ed said to their escorts.

"Sorry, sir." Tom's guard answered with a shake of his head. "We don't leave them alone with unprotected civilians."

Tom stood quietly. This had always been the sticking point in their plans. Things would be much harder if Ed could not convince the guards to leave, but there was nothing Tom could say to help. It was a strange feeling to be the least powerful person in the room.

Ed drew himself up to his full height and narrowed his eyes. "Am I going to have to call the Senator again with complaints of my legitimate UN inspections being impeded? Or can we get on with this?"

The guards glanced at each other uncertainly. How much pull did this skinny college boy have anyway?

"Look, you can stand right outside." Ed said. "If he kills me then you'll have the perfect excuse to get the UN to stop the inspections and I'll be out of your hair for good, OK?"

The guards looked at each other again and the older man jerked his head towards the door. As they headed out, he looked back over his shoulder and said, "Remember, Doc, It was your idea..."

When the door shut, Ed sighed and rubbed his neck. His relief washed over Tom as if bursting from behind a damn.

"Thank you, Ed." Tom said quietly. He wished, not for the first time, that his Human friends could feel his sincerity the way one of his own people could. Ed was putting everything on the line for him and he did not know how to communicate to a Human what that meant to him.

"No problem." Ed said and flashed a shadow of his old grin from their lab days. "Now get that shirt off and get up on the table so I can have a look at you..."

Tom raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't move.

"You need help?" Ed asked and took a step towards the shorter man, then stopped and grinned again. "What? You thought I was kidding about examining you? Huh-uh. Up on the table now, Secret Agent Man."

Tom smiled at the old nickname. Sloan had told him about it once, but this was the first time Ed had actually used it to his face.

"This isn't necessary, Ed." Tom said as he finally complied with doctor's orders. "We don't have much time. I need to know-"

"What the - !" Ed cut him off as Tom took off his shirt, "Oh, man, Tom.... what have they been doing to you in here." The young doctor ran his finger-tips lightly over the bruises that went up and down Tom's ribs and covered his back.

"It had to be real, Ed." Tom replied, as he closed his eyes and suppressed the tremor that ran through him as Ed's fingers traveled across his skin. It had been months since anyone had touched him without intending harm, much less in friendship. "If the guards had insisted on staying and I had had no apparent injuries they would have become suspicious."

"Don't tell me you did this to yourself?" Ed's shock and bolt of concern momentarily cut through Tom's shields, and this time he could not stop a small shudder that traveled up his spine. It had been so long.

"No, I didn't have to." Tom strengthened his shields and opened his eyes. "I'm the only Dominant in this facility that has worked with Humans. It wasn't hard to find a few volunteers to do this. I just had to present them with an opportunity."

"Yeah... well.... Let's get to it." Ed said, putting on his doctor voice. "Lie back."

Tom did as he asked and Ed started checking for broken ribs.

"How is your sister?" Tom asked, "Last time we spoke you said she still hadn't decided about when to quit work."

"She finally saw reason." Ed answered casually, still focused on the examination. "Although why she decided to go and stay with that uncle that the rest of the family doesn't trust, I don't understand."

Tom closed his eyes again and allowed himself a moment of intense relief. She had gone. She had done as he had asked, in spite of everything, in spite of all her fears. Now that she was safely away there was nothing to hold him here anymore. Whatever happened to him, they would not be able to hurt her.

"Ed, if I don't ever get out of here to meet your sister, tell her for me that I think she did the right thing." So much he wanted to say, but he couldn't speak openly here. From previous visits, which he'd arranged specifically to search for listening devices and cameras, Tom was almost sure the infirmary wasn't bugged, but he would not take the risk.

"Hey. The war can't last forever. You'll see her. There's talk of a new UN peace initiative -"

"We talked about this before, Ed. The only Dominants making it out of here are the dead ones. You know that." Tom stared hard into his Human friend's eyes. Don't back out now, Ed, he silently urged.

"Don't talk like that. " Ed said, but his voice was flat and quiet.

Tom sensed resignation, fear and guilt all mixed together. He reached out and gripped Ed's arm, but said nothing. Ed nodded silently and went to his bag.

"I'm gonna give you a vitamin shot." Ed said as he came back to the examination table with a syringe in his right hand. He readied the injection and felt the sting of the needle in his left arm. At the same time he felt a sharp jab on the underside of his arm. It hurt, but he didn't even flinch.

"Hey, this cut is kinda deep. Needs a stitch." Ed examined a cut bleeding on the underside of Tom's left arm. He performs the simple operation quickly and Tom gives no reaction to the pain. "That's it."

"Thanks." Tom sat up and started putting on his shirt. He looked up to find Ed staring at him, tense, with apprehension in his eyes. "It's ok, Ed, call them in. I'm ready to go."

Ed nodded and called in the guards. Within minutes Tom was back in his cell and Ed was gone out of his sensing range. Back to the outside world.

Tom lay back on his bunk and resisted the impulse to feel around for the implant in his left arm. The barracks were monitored, he knew, and he must do nothing to arouse suspicions at this point. He waited for tomorrow.

***

Toronto, some time after midnight.

It was raining, and Sloan had left the bedroom window part way open. Even though she slept fitfully, she did not hear the rain. At least, not consciously. Along one eve, water gathered in two points, and dropped down to the faux balcony. There was just enough space on this balcony for a slight puddle to gather. First one drop would land, splish. Then the second drop would land, splosh. Splish splosh splish splosh…

She had kicked the bedcovers away. Her white nightgown was all that protected her from the chill of the night air. It was loose fitting and plainly styled, but it still accentuated the swell of her abdomen. The nightgown undulated as the babies moved in their womb, pressing out against their temporary accommodations. Sloan shifted, unconsciously continuing the effort to find a more comfortable position. Sloan was lost to the dream she was having, though in truth it was more of a nightmare. The babies moved restlessly, sensing her fear and making it their own. Her pain of separation from her mate became theirs as well. They cried for reassurance, calling to the only person who could hear them. *Protect* the young minds called out, *fear, pain, help*

“Are you sure?” Tom kept asking. “How can we bring a child into this...?”

“It’s our hope, Tom.” She said fiercely. “Our commitment to the future.... and I want your child in case something...” Her voice trembled and she could not complete the sentence. Tom stopped the thought with a kiss.

The discussion faltered as their desperation turned to fiery passion. They made love, and it was unlike any other time. It was more intense, more soul shattering, more binding than any other time. Afterwards, Tom had lain on his side with Sloan tucked up against him, his right hand resting on her belly. He was certain they had created a child. She had laughed softly, teasing him about his use of the singular word. Just because she was human didn’t mean they couldn’t have made twins or triplets. But she sobered quickly when he told her what he wanted her to do.

“No,” She said to Tom, adamant in her decision. “I won’t leave the country without you.”

“Sloan, we don’t have a choice.” He stroked her shoulder, speaking softly. “They are starting to collect known Dominants. It is only a matter of time before they come here for me.”

“We’ll go together.” She felt desperate. Terrified at the thought of being separated from him once again, she held on to him tightly as if that alone would keep them together. “There’s time. We’ll leave tonight. I’ll call Ed…”

“No, Sloan. You have to listen to me.” He gave her a gentle shake. “Wait only a few weeks, then if you are pregnant, go to Lewis. He’ll help you get to Canada. You have to get our child to safety. If she’s born here…” She shook her head, and when she started to argue again he rested his fingers over her lips. “Please, Sloan. I need to know you and our child will be safe. We can trust Lewis for this. Promise me. If not for yourself, for the baby.”

“Tom…” Her voice catching, her lips moving against his fingers. Finally, she gave in nodding. “If I’m pregnant…”

Though from his assurance, she knew she was. There were tears in her eyes as his fingers were replaced by his lips gently sealing her promise. They had hardly drifted to sleep when Tom lurched up in bed, every muscle tight with tension.

“They’re here…”

“Tom! No!” Sloan cried out, clutching out at nothing. It was dark and she couldn’t find him. “Tom!” She could hear him calling out to her, “Promise me, Sloan! Promise me!” Her hands latched onto a strong arm, and suddenly she was awake, struggling to sit up.

“Sloan, wake up.” Lewis said kneeling beside her bed. One hand rested on her abdomen, the arm clasped to Sloan’s chest. “It was only a dream. You’re safe, and the babies are safe.” To the babies, he sent, *safe, warm, safe, calm*

“Oh, God.” She panted her heart racing. She blinked at him in surprise. Even after all this time with him, she was still startled to find herself living with him, relying on him. “I’m- I’m sorry. I was dreaming about Tom…”

“I know.” He nodded, and then half smiled. “You said his name out loud.”

She leaned back on her pillows, letting go of his arm. It was strange to have his hand resting on her belly, but she had resigned herself to his expertise. Who knew Lewis was an expert on pregnancies? The babies always settled at his touch within seconds, and for this, she was more than grateful.

“They were kicking pretty hard.” Sloan commented, taking deep even breaths as he had taught her. “They don’t see what I’m dreaming, do they?”

“No, Sloan.” He continued to smile, stroking her abdomen. “They’re just sensing your emotions. You get upset, they get upset.”

“I’m sorry, you haven’t gotten much sleep have you.” She rested an arm across her forehead. What would Tom say if he could see her like this?

Carrying four babies instead of just one. She knew he would be surprised, and she hoped pleased.

“I need less sleep than you do.” He stood, disappearing into her bathroom. She could hear the water running, and he came back out with a wet wash cloth. He handed the wet cloth to her. “Wipe your face, it’ll make you feel better. How are your legs doing? Any more cramps?”

“No, but my feet are aching. Too many laps around the house again.” Sloan smiled up at him. He had been teasing her about wearing a whole in the carpeting, and him having to pay to replace it as they were only renting.

“I can do something about that.” He sat on the end of the bed, and drew her feet onto his lap. He could sense her immediate unease, but ignored it. He started with the right foot, the one that had been cramping up on her this morning. Gently, his thumbs worked the ball of her foot, and down into the arch.

“Oh.” She sighed, a shudder running through her body at how good it felt. “Oh, my!” Almost as good as sex! “Oh, Lewis.”

“Should I stop?” He asked her, his hands pausing.

“No!” She practically shouted at him, and then seeing the expression on his face –his brilliant eyes sparkling, his lips turned into a full smile – she laughed. “You have got to teach Tom how to do this!”

“He never gave you a foot massage before?” He made a tsking sound. “I’ll have to have a talk with him. I taught him better than that.”

She didn’t say anything more; not that she could have really. She was enjoying the foot rub far too much. Even the babies seemed to enjoy it for they had calmed down completely. Sloan looked down at the large mound that was her stomach, and thought of Tom. He was missing out on so much, but there was nothing she could do but wait for him. They would wait for him. He had been right about Lewis, for Lewis had taken great

care of Sloan since the moment she had appeared on his doorstep. Amazingly enough, he had even known she was pregnant without asking.

“I miss him so much. Sometimes it feels like only last night that he was taken…” Her voice catching slightly. “And then sometimes it feels like six years instead of six months.” She sighed, feeling comfortable for the first time tonight.

“I know you miss him.” Lewis nodded, switching her feet. “I do, too. Yes, Sloan. I miss him. He was my right arm for several years.” He glanced at her, smiling again. “You shouldn’t have waited so long to come to me. Anything could have happened to you those first three months. I can’t believe he would tell you to wait that long. He knows the dangers the same as I.” He sensed the tension returning, and changed the topic slightly.

“Just relax, close your eyes. Think about his smile. Does he cock his head when he’s listening to you? And that smile he has when he’s inordinately happy. It’s a very rare smile, but well worth the wait.” He adjusted the tone of his voice, making it more soothing, almost hypnotic. “Picture him in your mind, Sloan. Concentrate on that picture.” His fingers moved on her feet in slow, easy strokes. Sloan watched Lewis for a moment before she closed her eyes. This man that she had feared and hated now sat at the end of her bed massaging her swollen feet. She had a very good idea that he slept in the “all together” but when he came into her room at night, he always had a pair of black silk pajama pants on. He never had a shirt on. He never seemed cold, never tired, never lacked patience. He was quite the stoic –with just a touch of humor.

Finally, she did as he said and closed her eyes and picturing Tom in her mind. Tom, she sighed. Her lips curled into a particular smile as she visualized him in nothing but those Saturday pants she had bought him as a gift. They were a bit baggy, but she loved how they hung low on his hips. She saw him standing at the end of the bed, watching her. Those pants had a drawstring waistband, and she often had naughty thoughts about those drawstrings.

He knelt on the bed, easing up over her, his knees between her legs, his hands on either side of her shoulders. He dipped his hips, dragging the drawstring up a thigh. His hips dipped again, and the drawstring grazed across her abdomen. Sloan laughed throatily, enjoying his tease. She reached down, untying the drawstring, and shoved the pants over his hips. His head came down and caught her lips, nibbling on her lower lip before working along her jaw line to her earlobe. Her fingertips skimmed up his ribs, then down his chest…

Lewis slipped off the end of the bed without disturbing Sloan or the babies. He gently draped the sheet and comforter over her. He knew she dreamed of Tom as he had given that dream to her. Standing over her for a moment, he watched her. How malleable she was, how vulnerable. She had no idea what it meant for him to be communicating with the babies instead of Tom. She had no idea the power it gave him. In ‘Dominant’ society, such a thing would make him their father –with all rights of fatherhood. Tom was only the sperm donor. The children would always respond to him first… and Tom second.

He smiled, nodding. Satisfied that mother and babies would sleep for a while, he left the bedroom and went down to the kitchen. Turning on the light, he glanced around at the gleaming white counter tops and stainless steel fixtures. He felt like a midnight snack, and headed for the fridge.

***

Morning comes and Tom wakes thick headed and still tired. He watches the light coming through the barracks windows, cool and grey and slow. The stained once-upon-a-time-white walls, the metal bunks, even the peeling paint on the ceiling is intriguing and mysterious in this light.

He feels all the other dominants waking and watching. There are thirty males in this barrack, all with too much energy and no outlet, they strain for something to vent it on but there is nothing. They sense the guards outside the perimeter, protected by the razor wire that circles the compound, the trench beyond that and finally the wall: slick with a frictionless coating and rounded at the top by a ten inch pipe that offers no purchase to human or dominant.

Their attention turns inward to their own numbers, to the one that helped put them here. Tom feels their attention burn across his mind. On other mornings he has deftly turned them aside, created distractions, done the unexpected, but today he lies still. He welcomes them. The drug is entering his system now. The time release capsule that Ed had implanted in his arm yesterday is working perfectly. They start to gather round his bunk, growing bolder with his lack of reaction. Cracking open his eyes he sees the young man he had put in the infirmary has been released.

Good.

He is far away now as they start delivering the blows that will take him from this place. He feels them fall like yesterday's rain.

***

"Damn I hate this work. It's creepy." The young private complained as he toe tagged the latest camp casualty.

Tom Daniels

Homo dominant

"Shut up, or you can trade places with him!" The corporal growled. He didn't like delivering corpsicles anymore than the private, but that was all the more reason not to discuss it. They were in the infirmary, inside the walls, and it made the corporal nervous to be in with the animals. They had killed one of their own, and he knew the only thing that stopped them from killing him was the fact that they would still be stuck inside an easy target for retribution. The faster they got out the better.

“Ready?” Their escort guard asked.

“Yeah, let’s roll.” He replied, as he and the private started wheeling the stretcher towards the only gate out of the camp.

***

When he came back from the dead, it was fast. Between one pot-hole and the next Tom went from a place that was less than oblivion to complete consciousness. It hurt. Everything hurt.

He pulled against the strapping that held him to the stretcher and was surprised to find he was too weak to break it. He opened his eyes, grateful that the inside of the truck was dim, and examined the buckles. Designed to keep a dead man on the stretcher, not to imprison a live one, he was able to un-do them fairly quickly. He looked around and saw two other bodies on the opposite wall in stretchers. He didn’t recognize them. They must be from other camps. It didn’t matter. They weren’t going to be coming back. He knew the truck was heading to the central research lab that handled all the autopsies and he didn’t plan to be on it when it arrived.

Tom got up and stood swaying and holding on to his stretcher. He took several cleansing breaths, closed his eyes, and focused. When he opened his eyes again he had put the pain at a distance and was ready to take action. Tom lifted the edge flap that covered the back of the army truck. They were in the mountains and the road was twisty and uneven. Trees lined both sides and there was a drop off on the right side of the road. Perfect. He waited until the truck went round a turn and then jumped to the road and quickly rolled under the guard rail and down into the trees.

The pain flared again, and he lay still for a moment, battling to suppress it and listening to the truck drive away into the distance. He had perhaps and hour or two before they discovered he was gone. He had to get moving. Tom levered himself upright using the guard rail Just as he got himself standing he heard a car coming. He slid around behind the trunk of the tree and waited for it to pass.

It didn’t.

Tom tensed as the car slowed and then stopped. Someone got out. He extended his senses to feel who it was, but got only a confused impression of hope and fear. His mind was still clouded by the drug Ed had given him to simulate death. He could only wait as foot steps approached.

Just as the person from the car was about to reach him, Tom stepped from behind the tree and grabbed the man by the neck intending to snap it and then steal the car.

He only just stopped himself in time as he realized the man he had hold of was Dr. Ed Tate.

“Need a lift, buddy?” the young doctor managed to gasp out.

Tom let go as if he had been burned. Ed. He had almost killed Ed.

“How?” Was all Tom could think to ask as he leaned against the tree he had been hiding behind.

“I managed to get a tracker in your arm along with the drug.” Ed answered. “I decided you trying to do this on your own was a bad idea.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ed answered and moved to give Tom a hand back up to the road where his van was waiting.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Tom just nodded, got in the van, and let Ed take over for a while. Ed got him buckled in and then got in the driver’s side and started the van up.

“Next stop, Canada.” He said. But when he looked over he realized Tom was already asleep.

***

“Sloan.” Lewis said, leaning over the bed to gently shake her. “It’s time to get up, Sloan.”

“No.” She grumbled, pulling the comforter further over her head. “I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well. And I don’t feel like going for a damn walk.”

Lewis smiled as he straightened. He knew she had slept badly, but he also knew that she wasn’t sleeping now despite how tired she was. A walk was just what she needed, that and a good breakfast. So he sat carefully on the side of the bed, and began rubbing her back through the comforter.

“You aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?” A few wild locks of red hair becoming visible as she lowered the comforter a little.

“No, I’m not.” He replied, tugging on the comforter so he could see her face. Her eyes were puffy and red not just from the lack of sleep, but from crying. “You dreamt about Tom again.”

“The babies told you.” She sniffed, trying to hide her face but he wouldn’t let her.

“No, the babies didn’t tell me.” He brushed hair out of her face as he angled up closer to her. “I can sense your distress and sadness quite well on my own.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, closing her eyes. Her heart ached for Tom, but she had to think of the babies. The man beside her was a great comfort, more than she ever had bargained for.

“Sorry that you miss Tom? Sorry that you left him?” He shook his head. “You humans, you are so guilt-ridden, the lot of you.”

“No, I’m not sorry that I miss Tom. I’m sorry that my sadness affects you.” She pulled an arm out from under the covers, and rested a hand on his arm. When fate had first put them together, he had disliked physical contact. It hadn’t been anything he had said verbally, but it had been obvious nonetheless. Now he allowed her to touch him, and touched her in return.

“I’m not the ones you need to be concerned about.” His left hand rested on the mound of her stomach. “It is important that you keep your spirits up for the children. They experience everything that you feel.”

“If I get up and eat something, could we skip the walk for today?” She asked him hopefully. “I just don’t think I can handle it today.”

“You’ll eat a good breakfast, and we’ll go for a short walk.” He grinned, his blue eyes twinkling.

“Down to the sidewalk and back.” Sloan groaned, knowing that arguing with him over the walk was hopeless. Every day like clockwork, he insisted on going for a walk. One walk in the morning after breakfast, one walk at night after supper.

“We’ll see.” He stood up, dragging the comforter down to the foot of the bed. “How about a nice hot shower?” His eyes lingered over the visible skin for a brief second before he turned away and went to her bathroom. He switched on the shower water, steamy hot.

Sloan struggled to sit up. You had to go at it in the right direction, and keep the momentum going or you never made it out of bed. She was only six months along, but she felt huge and the babies had settled low over the last month. Lewis told her that the gestation period for his people was much shorter. Well, she hoped it would be soon. She looked forward to being the sole occupant of her body again. But to do that, she actually had to have the babies…

“Here.” Lewis knelt on the bed, slipping an arm behind her back, and helping her to sit up. Then he eased her legs over the side of the bed. He even helped her to stand up, staying beside her until she had her balance. “Shall I get your clothes out?”

“No, Lewis.” She told him with a touch of humor, “I’m not that incapacitated. Why don’t you go start breakfast?”

She waddled –she felt like she waddled- to the bathroom door. The nightgown covered up quite a bit of her, and there was quite a bit to cover up these days. Yet she always felt vulnerable around him. If it weren’t for the babies, she would never have seen this side of him.

“And if I come back in say, two minutes, I won’t find you back in bed?” He arched an eyebrow at her, standing there by her closet door with hands on his hips.

“That was yesterday.” She waved him away. “Today is different.”

He chuckled. “Alright, five minutes.”

“I’m going in now.” The dresser blocked his view of her body, but he didn’t miss the stretched of bare leg as she kicked the nightgown towards the bed. “See, I’ve undressed.”

“Perhaps I should check…” He walked over and picked up the nightgown. Sloan shrieked softly, and slammed the bathroom door shut.

She stood there for a second, heart hammering in her chest, babies fidgeting somewhat. She hadn’t counted on him coming closer. With the dresser between them, she hadn’t minded tossing the nightgown back into the bedroom. He had almost seen her naked. He had seen quite a bit of her over these last few months, but he had never seen her completely and utterly naked. She had gotten used to him resting a hand on her belly to soothe the babies. His back rubs were sheer heaven… not forgetting the foot rubs either.

Sloan turned, stepping towards the shower and caught sight of herself in the foggy mirror. Her figure was distorted from the steamed up mirror, but the rounded curve of her abdomen was unmistakable. She looked down at herself, resting her hands on her belly.

What would Tom think if he could see her like this? Would he be horrified? She wasn’t too sure how she felt about him seeing her like this. Being naked with him was one thing… being naked and very pregnant was another.

***

“Watch your step.” Lewis was ahead of her on the steps as they walked out of the house an hour later. He stopped and turned around, reaching back for her hand.

“I know.” She smiled at him, taking his hand. “You tell me every day.”

Their eyes met briefly, their hands clasped. Sloan blushed lightly and ducked her head. She didn’t think she would ever get used to his blue eyes. She loved Tom’s eyes, but there was such intensity in Lewis’ eyes. Immediately, a pang of guilt shot through her. How could she think of Lewis that way? Besides, she loved Tom.

“You stumble every day.” He whispered, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. They walked slowly down the sidewalk.

“I do not.” She glared at him, insulted. “The sidewalk is uneven.”

“Of course.” He nodded, his lips twitching.

“I guess a pregnant woman of your species wouldn’t ever trip.” She looked away from him, flipping her long braid over her shoulder. Tom would be surprised to see how long her hair had grown. She hadn’t cut it since he had been taken.

“Never.” Lewis replied before allowing himself to chuckle.

She glanced back up at him, smiling at the expression on his face. “Lewis.” She sighed, resting her left hand on her stomach. The babies were active this morning. More so than usual.

They walked a ways in silence. Sloan remembered the first time they had gone for a walk after coming here. Lewis had walked in front of her, barely glancing back at her. Now each day marked a change. He walked more slowly, matching his stride to hers. Each day, he allowed her a little closer. He didn’t keep her at arm’s length. He had stopped sneaking up on her, although he never admitted it was on purpose. She wondered if Tom would recognize Lewis when he came to them.

And he would come. She did not doubt that he would. It was only a matter of when. And when it happened, what would happen to Lewis? He had become a definite part of her life, and the babies, too. Without him, she didn’t know how she would have managed. But Tom must have foreseen that because he had sent her to Lewis in the first place.

“Sloan.” He tapped her arm. “Mrs. Helms.”

“Good morning.” Sloan called out to the elderly lady standing on a front porch. “Your roses are lovely today.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Helms called back, giving them a little wave. They waved back… in unison.

They walked a little further and that was when the first contraction gripped her abdomen. She held Lewis’ arm tightly, half bent over. “Oh god, oh god.”

“You finally figured out a way to shorten the walk.” Lewis chuckled, patiently waiting. He didn’t have to wait long.

“I’m not faking this!” She snapped at him, gasping for breath and sweating profusely. One way to warm up. Labor pains.

“I didn’t say you were.” He looked down at her hold on his arm. Her knuckles were white. He could feel her pain, feel the babies’ distress. *soon* he told them *soon*

As soon as the pain had dissipated, they headed back for the house. They stopped only once for another contraction. By the time they got back inside the house, the water broke.