fic: A Year Of Lists

[bonnefois]

Title: A Year Of Lists
Series: TF2
Character/paring: Scout/Miss Pauling
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sophie had her life all planned out, but constant work hours meant that she behind on the love, marriage and children part of her life. With her biological clock ticking, Sophie decides to get a manual sperm donor with her coworker, Liam, the most uncommitted guy around. Her plans of a quick, no strings-attached fling and single motherhood goes awry as she realizes she misjudged both Liam and herself.
Word Count: 12731
Author's Note: From this OTPprompts prompt.


It's set in 1975.





She mentally went over the list in her head. She'd done everything in her power to ensure she wouldn't be interrupted for the next hour. It shouldn't be this hard to seduce a coworker. Especially one that wants you as much as he does, Sophie thought to herself. She was too lightweight to sip on wine to steel her nerves. She'd go to sloppy drunk too fast, and tonight she really wanted to be lucid. She hoped it would turn into one of the most memorable nights of her life.


She opened the door before the second knock, practically sprinting to the door and almost knocking over the lamp in the progress.


"Whoa, you're fast. Hey, Miss--"


She cut him off. "Call me Sophie."


"Sophie," he said, sounding out her name. "Nice, this is nice. And if we're on first name basis, you should probably be callin' me Liam, though I'll answer to 'handsome' too.


He glanced around her apartment. She lived on the other side of the compound, far enough that the laughter and gunfire from the men's barracks was faint.


"Never seen the inside of your place before. Didn't realize it was this close."


Liam licked his lips. "Real nice," he said. He wasn't looking at the lamp, but her hip, which was holding up the lamp. She put the lamp back in place, thankful for something else to keep her attention. Anything to keep from how hungry his gaze was, or maybe the little fantasies of just the kind of things he could do with his tongue had come up once or twice.


Okay, maybe a little more than twice. More like twelve. Or twenty. Or maybe she'd lost count and could only pretend it wasn't in the three or four digit number range.


"Um, yes. Do you want a drink?" She gestured towards the kitchen.


"Whatcha got? I'm pretty thirsty," he said.


"Wine, coffee, water, juice. I think there's some sports drink in there. Not BONK--I can't have you going through the walls," she said.


"I feel you. You gotta keep the animal contained sometimes, you know?"


He smirked, and she realized he wasn't talking about water.


"Right--Actually, about that--I have a business proposition," she said.


"Business? Like sellin' steak knives? I hear some people get super rich on that kind of thing," Liam said.


"No, actually," she said. She walked closer, until she just before him. "I want you to get me pregnant."


His face went through a litany of emotions in those few seconds. Confusion, interest, excitement, back to confusion again. "Wait, what? How would that be business, unless you mean sexy business, which I'm plenty down with, but--" Liam said.


"Hmm, maybe I should've explained it better...or given it some kind of intro..." She bit her lower lip as she twisted off the top button of her blouse. Maybe she should've ripped them off, like the Hulk, to make her intentions more clear.


Actually, she liked this shirt. Now tearing off his shirt, that was something she'd spent more time thinking about than she'd like to admit.


"I really need wine for this. Actually, I better not. You see, I planned my life out when I was in high school. But my job has kind of put all that on hold. I always thought I'd meet someone by now, but that hasn't happened. And I don't think it's going to happen, either, so I might as well get started on everything I thought would come with my marriage. And since I haven't met anyone, and probably won't, I have to go with plan B."


Liam had a strange expression, like he was leaning forward, almost showing himself off.


"...Are you flexing?"


"What? Not yet, go on, go on," Liam said. He cleared his throat, his gaze right to where she was undoing each button with precision."So... you want me to knock you up?"


"All I want is a night--or a couple nights...as long as it takes to get me--yes--knocked up. You don't have to pay child support or be there for the baby or anything. In fact, I'd rather you not."


"That's cold, Miss---Sophie," he said.


"I mean, if you don't want to, I could find someone el--"


"No, no, no, no, no!--I am one-hundred percent down with helpin' you out with this." He licked his lips again. "Just one thing, why like this?"


"Well, I looked into other ways, but they all required a lot of time and doctor's visits, and adoption meant looking into my job..."


"Ooh, ouch," Liam said.


"Yeah, tell me about it," she said.


"So, I have to do this manually. Or steal a baby, though that'd require so much work and forging, it hardly seemed worth it when I could just do it myself. I'm really more of a do it myself person, you know? Anyways, my biological clock is ticking. I can't put this off much longer. And if I don't do it now, I'm going to lose my nerve. I'll start looking through all the things that could go wrong, and just not do it. And then I'll never get to have a family."


"I never thought of it that way," Liam said.


"You didn't have to. For the record, I'm going to hire a nanny. That's how I'm going to make time for the...child. A very non-nosy, live-in nanny who understands that her freakishly high salary comes with total silence. Just so you know."


"I ain't a professional, but it sounds like you got this all worked out," Liam said.


"It's been awhile. I mean a long, long while." She eased undid the last button and pushed her purple blouse off. His lips parted in a long breath as he took in the sight of her.


"Hey, relax, Sophie. I'll treat you well. Hell, I'll treat you the best you ever known, or had. I'm good at all kinds of things, makin' a sex bein' only one of them. I'll make you a baby, all right."


"Mmm-hmmm." She slipped her heels off, and nearly toppled over in the process. She never was good in heels, but in flats she'd have to get on tiptoe just to reach his mouth.


Before he could say more, she kissed him quiet. His hands wandered to cup her ass. He didn't linger too long, as he slipped his thumbs, then fingers up her skirts, and into the bands of her panties.


"We should--"


He kissed her once, twice, she moaned into the third kiss. It was so warm, all she wanted to do was sink into him, and this feeling of being stripped slowly of every care she had.


She'd planned on replacing that couch anyways, ever since she'd accidentally spilled half a bottle of wine down the back. Of course, this was just accelerating it. She pushed at his shirt hungrily, and leaned down to bite his lower lip.


"Damn," he said.


Couches weren't great for snuggling. Actually, this was more of a loveseat, which was a misnomer in her mind.


"Loveseats, it's such a crock," she said.


"You hatin' on the furniture again?" Liam said.


"It's like those pizzas for two, or cakes for two. That's a single serving. It's like they're asking for a fight. Valentine's day cakes sponsored by Hallman and Hallman's Divorce lawyers."


"Let's prove 'em wrong," Liam said.


"I'm--kind of rusty at this," she said.


"No worries, I got you covered," Liam said.


She eagerly helped push up his shirt. In seconds, pants, and the rest of her dress was thrown aside. Wrinkles be damned--it'd have to be burnt later on in the incinerator to avoid any blood evidence, anyways.


He rubbed the front of her panties, until his thumb rested firmly against her swollen clit. She arched to his palm, already wetter than she ever thought she'd be this soon. The fact that he knew where the clit was already and didn't need any guidance immensely improved her opinion of him.


He kissed down her neck, his fingers perfect against her, just teasing her clit and folds. He was so close to pushing inside her that her arched her back, trying to push further than his fingertips in.


"You're real hot, but not just hot, awesome too, y'know? Like a new word, hotawesomecoolclassy."


She pulled back, just as a part of her checklist came to mind.


"Oh, and before I forget, no other girls. At least not while we're--knocking me up--okay? I know you're clean now, but I don't want any risk or drama."


Even if it was hypocritical. Even her no-strings hook ups had to be at least a little exclusive. No one ever said she was easy to please or live with.


"What?" Liam said.


"I just had you checked. What? It was part of my job. All mercenaries get routine health tests, and Medic is to let us know if any of you have any sexually transmitted diseases."


"Sophie, babe, I cannot think of anythin' I want to talk less right now than friggin' crotch rot. Hard to think anythin' could kill this mood, but that sure as hell could. Look, I ain't a cad. You ain't got anythin' to worry about," Liam said.


"No, I don't, because for tonight, you're going to be all mine," Sophie said.


And another night, and another night. Another kiss made her add on about fifty more nights. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, she added about five-hundred.


Just as he said it, he pushed his fingers all the way into her. God, she was wet. She moaned, her hips jutting up, to his every touch. And that was about the time her mind put a sideways eight in front of the times he'd be all hers.


"Oh god, don't stop."


"Oh, don't worry. I ain't stoppin' anytime soon."


She clenched around his three--then four--fingers pushed up inside her.


"Jeez, you're warm," he said. "And so...soft."


Under the pressure of his hands, she was already on the verge of coming, not even five minutes in. When he said he was fast at everything, she didn't realize how literal he meant it. He thrust harder with his fingers, the firm pressure of his palm across her clit was pushing her higher and higher into a warmth she'd almost forgotten.


He started slowly, but soon progressed to thrusting his fingers in, and oh did he do it just right. She felt something building fast, way faster than expected.


Her breath came in short gasps, then a surge as she clenched so tight about his fingers. She had to bite her lower lip so hard that she almost tasted blood just to keep from screaming as she felt an orgasm shudder through her.


"Wow, you're even cuter when you come."


Her glasses had fallen down to her chin. She just knew her face was flushed. Hell, the flush went down to across her arousal-swollen breasts.


"You could say I am a professional, and my professional opinion is these are some damn fine tits."


"I should kick you on the floor for that," she said. She pulled at his collar. "But, I'll do one better, and keep that filthy mouth of yours busy."


She was still tender from orgasm as he pushed into her, and filled her up. She locked her legs about his waist, keeping him deep inside her. It was wonderfully tight, the feel of his veins, his skin rubbing so deep inside, incredible warmth and friction. Oh, it'd been so long, and it wasn't like this. Never like this.


"Fuck...." he gasped.


Each thrust only pushed her further. His skin against hers, the way they couldn't stop kissing, even as they struggled for breath, it all came together to form a rising arc of pleasure. Her tender, overstimulated body came easily, and before he did.


"Sophie---"


She felt a rush of warmth that spread through her entire body, even deeper, more intense this time. She clung to him, tighter, tighter. His breath was loud against her ear. He was closer than anyone had ever gotten before, deeper than just the moment. She dug her fingernails deep into his back as release, sweet release finally made her feel something she'd completely forgotten: relaxation.


He groaned, and rested against her, his head nestled between her breasts. And for a moment, everything was beautiful and perfect.


Then she tried to breathe, and realized that despite him being thin, he was still heavier than her.


"Sco--Liam. You're crushing me."


"Well, I'm crushin' on you, so no surprise there," Liam said.


"No, I mean you're literally crushing me," she said.


He pushed himself up off her. "Oh crap, sorry."


"No need to apologize," she said. She was in a haze of hormones and post-coital bliss. And even with the no strings, she was glad when he bent down and pulled her into his arms.


She looked to the clock. That long? And that many orgasms? She mentally tried to figure out if she'd forgotten Daylight Saving's Time. No, that was in November. It really had been that long.


"Wow..." she said.


"I know, right?" Liam said. "I been tellin' you I'm incredible. Glad you've been listening."


Her irritation at his bragging had gone down significantly now that she knew he could absolutely back it up.


Liam curled his arm about her waist. Between the orgasms (yes, plural) and the nearness of him, it was like Smissmass had come early, except with less homicidal Australian Santas.


She should've said yes to this a long time ago.


"We're going to regret it if we fall asleep here. We'll end up in a heap on the floor," she said.


There were new stains on the couch. She wasn't sure any stain cleaner would ever get them out. But she'd gladly buy ten couches just to feel a fraction of as good.


She stretched and yawned. "You're right. I'm all sleepy now, though. It's all your fault."


He broke into a smug grin at that. "Now that's somethin' I'll be guilty of. C'mon, I got you."


He swept her up and carried her off towards her bedroom. She buried her face against his neck and breathed in the last traces of his cologne.


He traced a line across her still-flat stomach. "I'll make your dreams come true for real."


"You're already making them come true," she said.


"No, I mean---well yeah, I mean that, but I mean more than that. You want to go see Paris? Tell me whose teeth I gotta knock in to get you enough time to go there. You want somethin' done fast? I am completely your man," he said.


"That's sweet, but---Liam, I told you. This whole plan was based on you--" she made finger quotes "'loving and leaving me.' The sex is fun, but you're getting it because you never stick around."


Liam rubbed at the back of his neck. "Why mess with a good thing, that's what I'm sayin'. I mean, it's not like I'm goin' to get you anymore knocked up at this point."


"Well..." She said.


"Technically that happens sometimes. It's called Superfetation, though it's very rare."


"You are such an egghead," he said. He leaned in to kiss her forehead.


"Egghead?" she laughed.


"Yeah, it's hot. I love a girl with brains," Liam said.


"Oh good, and here I thought you would be dating zombies," she said.


The laughter was cut short as his expression darkened. She felt his arm tense and draw away. "You got somebody else in mind? That's why you tryin' to chase me away?"


"Yeah, my vibrator is such a jealous lover. With my schedule do you really think I have time to have much sex--or anything else?"


"I'm still bogglin' at that. You been here for years, and you ain't gotten any? Not at all? Jeez, I should get the Nobel Peace Prize for gettin' you laid," Liam said.


"I'll settle for not kicking you out of bed. How's that for an award?"


He visibly relaxed.


She crossed her arms across her breasts. It was the quickest way to disappoint him and keep his attention focused. For the whole two seconds he managed to focus on anything, that was. "But like I said no other girls or boys. I don't want you bringing anything back from your chicken joint flings. And I'm not having Mann co dealing with a severe condom shortage with how much we fuck."


Fling was really too concrete a word for it, but that was why she'd chosen him in the first place.


"Hey, we already went through this. I wouldn't run around on you. I'm goin' to be a dad, I gotta clean my act up to set a good example," Liam said.


Words she certainly thought she'd never hear from him.


"Sperm donor," she said. "You're going to be a sperm donor. A very manual sperm donor."


"Same thing."


She was too filled with the languid sex afterglow to correct him again. He nestled close to her, his arm about her waist. Curled under the covers, with a man who was both a stranger and the closest person she'd been to in years, she drifted off to the best sleep she'd had in as long as she could remember.


*


The alarm woke her from the sweetest dream, which candy clouds disappeared into that dark place dreams vanished to, always just out of reach. The nights were warm with body heat and another person's breaths nearby. She'd woken up satisfied every morning, until even the worst work could throw at her didn't seem that bad. He was hard against her. He let out a sleepy sigh and tightened his grip about her waist.

I could get used to this, she thought in those hazy, bad morning breath thoughts.


Sophie was getting so used to having someone else in her bed, she was beginning to wonder how she ever managed without this. In a world of danger, this was some of the most dangerous thoughts she'd ever had.


Of course, the second she was fully awake, she pushed those thoughts down. Liam wasn't husband material; that's why he was here in the first place. He would make an excellent fling. Of course, he'd confessed to her inside the bread monster, but she had held back, just to be sure it wasn't a play. Through the years, she'd seen him go out with the other men, with talk of flirting with girls and outlandish pick up lines.


He hadn't gone out in months. No other girl's names had been on his lips. Which was good, as the the thought of him having flings, and future other women of his made her jaw clench.


Obviously she needed some coffee. The morning and sex haze, maybe with a touch of (hopefully) pregnancy hormones was making her irrational. Sophie couldn't do irrational. Her job depended on her being logical, and willing to kill and bury dozens of people a day, while being constantly threatened that the minute she let up, she'd be the next in those graves.


She started to get up, only to feel his arms pull her closer.


"You could stay," he said sleepily.


"It's tempting, but I have to go to work. You need to get back in to your own room and get ready for when the next match starts," she said.


"But it's warm and smells like you," he said.


"That's the breaks of the, uh, games. Or work I should say, though I guess you could call the gravel wars games..."


"Can I at least have a kiss before I go?"


She leaned down and brushed her lips across his cheek.


He caught her lips, but she pulled away. "I haven't brushed. I probably have horrible breath."


"Don't care, you're still cute," Liam said sleepily.


Something in her softened, even at that silly little compliment. "Thank you," she said.


"See you tonight?"


"I'll be here," Liam said.


Just as she made her way to the bathroom, another addition to her to-do list came to mind. "Oh, I'll get you a spare key right away."


"Really? For me?" Liam said. She pulled it out of the dresser. He kissed it, like she'd given him some great treasure, then slipped it on between his dog tags.


"Thank you, Sophie," he said.


She almost said it's nothing, really, but from his expression, she knew to him, it was far from nothing.


"I...well, I have to take a shower now. See you in several hours, Liam," she said.


Though all she wanted to do was nestle into those blankets, have breakfast in bed, and then fuck him senseless until they could only fall back exhausted, like some extended honeymoon.


She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. "Obviously I do need more coffee. My mind is all over the place," she muttered.


*


The paperwork this morning was especially dull, and so, her mind kept wandering back to him, and the Plan.


Of course, he'd been her first choice; He'd made it all too clear he wanted her. She'd been too busy to accept the first time he'd tried to get her off on a date, but with further consideration, over about five bottles of wine, she had to admit she liked the idea. A lot.


There was something charming in his smile, and he made her laugh, despite it all. The fact that he had freakishly good genetics, a decent criminal record and kill count, and no particular known fetish with bodily fluids made it that much better. Despite eight children, the youngest of which was twenty-seven, Liam's mother could pass for a svelte thirty year old. A cursory check into his past showed that this trait was common.


Call her over-cautious, but thoroughly interviewing all his known family members, making a detailed background check, tracking down a lost biological father and getting a medical report on him before saying yes to a date was the only way she planned to date.


That being said, she hoped their future child had more of her personality than his. The stories of Liam's childhood that his mother had been all too happy to share were only funny from an outsider's perspective. The thought of her child running across the rooftops and trying to fly, or teaching themselves to run in order to get to fights the fastest were worrying.


Back in high-school, she'd had names planned right out, but it came to mind in her faint daydream (he was already distracting her, and it'd only been one night) that he might want a say.


She'd have to pencil in a meeting with him.


She brought out her list. Not The Plan, but a simple to-do list, and crossed him off the top. Below it were several more tempting boxing, which she was just dying to fill. Speaking of boxes, was itching to open up the little boxes that would tell whether last night had worked, even as she knew they needed at while more to be accurate.


Sophie had boughten a few pregnancy tests before she'd even gotten up the courage to do this, yet she kept it locked away in her nightstand drawer, right next to her gun. One of her guns, anyways. The glock with the purple floral inlay she'd gotten as a special incentive when they'd started the recent line of highly decorated weapons.


She'd wait a week, no make that two, to ensure it would be accurate. There was no stirring in her body, or automatic feeling that anything was different. The only change she could sense in her body that all this sex was having a very good effect on her mood. She was practically humming.


Of course, to make sure, she'd get him every night she could. She let out a long breath at the memory of last night. She hadn't expected that he'd actually live up to all his bragging. She might as well make good use of this. Maybe they could even keep this up when the baby was here.


Nope, deviation from her lists. She tried to mentally cross that off, but she couldn't erase the memory of Liam's tongue between her legs. Oh, the things he could do with that mouth. Talking wasn't the only thing he could do with his tongue for five hours.


And the fact she'd decided somewhere around the first orgasm that this was something she was not compromising on. Screw the list, she could make modifications. Just because they were sleeping together didn't mean they had to be anything more. It was a modern world, after all.


"Honestly, I'd give up wine before I gave up that," she muttered to herself.


Which was good, because wine wasn't on the list for at least nine months. This was one of the more difficult aspects. For years, wine had been her friend, confidant, sole means of relaxation, sleep aid, and the means of burying all her feelings deep inside.


And now she'd have to let go. But, if she could have this, have him...then maybe she wouldn't even need to finish off a bottle of wine and wonder when the red liquid would set in and numb everything from the day.


She hadn't bothered to do the details, checking cycles or dates of fertility. Even thinking about this felt strange.


She almost wished she had, because it'd be more time to try.


It came to mind that when this was over, so would their agreement. No more morning kisses, no more of the best sex she'd ever had, his breath caressing her ear...


No, she'd find a way to keep it. He wanted to be in this child's life, so they could be---partners. No, that sounded too close. Friends? Not quite.


A relationship.


No, not that, she thought desperately. They'd just be people, who liked each other, helped raise a child, and had a lot of sex. Exclusive sex, because like hell was she sharing him.


Which sounded an awful lot like a relationship. She pushed that to the back of her mind. She had work, and there was always some crisis to untangle. If she couldn't bury herself in wine, then she'd damn well bury herself in work.


*


He was putting away things in the kitchen when she returned. It was so wonderful to come home and find more than some wine and leftover boxes of takeout after a long day's work. The kitchen had an inflection of white and black, until it looked like someone had dropped marbles covered with paint at random, or their aesthetic was cows meets dalmatians, as done by Jackson Pollock.


"This is a pretty nice look on you," she said.


"What, puttin' stuff away?" Liam said. "Your fridge was empty, so I brought some bread at least. Didn't want you to starve away to bones at your desk."


"Coming home and not having to eat stale takeout is so, so sexy. You have no idea how turned on I am right now."


"Well, I'm the man. You'll only eat the freshest takeout from now on," Liam said.


"What a cook. What's next, an apron?" Sophie said mischievously.


Liam lifted his brows. "On you?"


"On you," she said.


He chuckled, and rubbed the back of his neck.


"Did I threaten your masculinity?" she said.


"Please, it's as rock solid as my abs."


"Hmm. I think I'm going to have to verify that--" She pushed her hand under his shirt.


He grinned. "I was just goin' to show you 'em! In fact, there's more where that came from. Miles of it," he said.


"Miles? That's a terrifying image. The never-ending Liam," she said.


"Got a body that just don't stop," Liam said.


"Literally," she said.


It started with a quick, stolen kiss. He lifted her up, and both of them laughed. He set her down right on the black and white counter. "You look good enough to kiss right up," he said. He bunched her blouse up in his hands. Buttons popped off at the pressure of his hands.


The shirt had blood from this morning, and she'd have to throw it in the incinerator, anyways.


She wrapped her legs about his waist. He kissed every part he could reach, even as he had to bend himself to meet her, to fit their height difference.


"Oh, oh, that's going to have to be bleached," she said.


"I'll help you, but you gotta wear a cute apron while you do it, and nothin' else," Liam said.


"I will if you will," Sophie said.


"Deal," he replied.


The heat of his body, and the cold, hard counter top was a perfect contrast. She gladly wrapped her legs about his waist. He cupped her neck, and murmured careful, those cupboards are close. The low warmth of his voice was so alluring. She buried herself against him, as close as this could get, as he thrust into her over and over.


"Touch yourself," he said softly. "I can't reach you."


She fingered her clit, in that quick, rough way she preferred. Past the rising pleasure, her mind kept thinking, in drunken bliss I came home and the apartment isn't empty. I came home and I'm not alone. He kissed her, every inch of skin, like she was such a treasure. She'd never thought a kisses could mean so much, but they did, oh they did. She lost track of time, of everything but the cold and hot, the point where they met.


This time, she didn't bite her lip in time, and a long cry came out. A very, very long cry. He held her, to keep her from falling back into the cupboards--the ultimate post-coital buzzkill.


"I didn't mean to scream in your ear," she said. He nuzzled against her, and chuckled. Even at this angle, she knew he was full out smirking.


"I love it when you scream. I'll have to make you do it all the time."


She felt wetness drip down her thighs. Add the floors to the list of things to wash down after this.


"So about that apron," Liam said.


"I've only got one, we'll either have to share, or wait until I get another one," she said.


"Sharin's always good," Liam said. He helped her down, and they kissed, naked in her kitchen. Such an impulsive, irrational thing. She pulled out the apron and held it up, like a victory flag. All she could think of was how she'd never look at her kitchen the same way.

*


Two and a half weeks in, and her mood had already lifted. The crushing workload was easier when she knew that the light would be on, and she would see his silhouette long before she put the key in the door. She found herself smiling without even realizing it. She left her large bag at the door. Consdiering that it was filled with essentials like spare bullets, a handgun (or two) among other things, it was quite heavy. She rubbed her shoulder to soothe the ache of a long day.


He broke into a big grin, like pure sunshine, when he saw her. "You up for dinner? I got somethin' great. Only the finest quality takeout for my gir---you."


"Actually, I have to check something first," Sophie said.


"Like TV listin's?" Liam said.


"Like pregnancy listings," she said.


"Oh, knocked up stuff. Want a kiss for good luck?" Liam said.


"Thanks, but I don't need good luck to pee on a stick," she said.


She closed the door behind her, and began to fiddle with the test box.


"I could give you aimin' tips, or cheer you on," Liam said.


"You can't see me now, but I'm sticking my tongue out at you," she said.


"Really? Because I could suggest some things to do with it."


She opened the door a crack so he could see just how hard she rolled her eyes at that. Merely informing him wasn't enough.


She could hear his laughter even after she'd closed the door. He walked off, probably into the kitchen. She steadied her breaths as she waited for the results. Two lines yes, one line no.


But these things were still new, and could be inaccurate. Which was why she'd gotten two more. Three times the charm. Then she'd go out and tell him the news. If it was negative, back to bed and work on getting two lines. If it was positive, back to bed for a celebration. That was, if they made it to the bed. Twice this week they'd ended up on the couch instead. Even if she had to buy new furniture, it was so worth it.


She was never very fond of that couch, anyways. She always had to put a sheet over it just because the material was so scratchy. It was like Mann co was personally offended by comfortable furniture, as if it would hurt their collective masculinity.


She checked the three sticks laid out in the sink. Six pink lines. She tossed them in the trash, and washed up. She didn't even bother to dry her hands, water droplets cast across the walls and mirror. She couldn't care less about the possibility of water marks. Not when she'd finally gotten back on track.


He rose from the couch as he saw her, with such expectation and hope. She took a deep breath and smiled big as she said the words.


"I'm pregnant," she said.


"Aw, yes!"


He rushed over and lifted her up, and kissed her so suddenly that her mind was spinning. More than just a physical tingle, a warm spread through her heart.


It's because I'm happy that I'm pregnant, obviously. Nothing more...


When he kissed her again, the warmth in her chest only blossomed out. It was like everything was tinged with gold. Had he always had this nice of a smile? Was he always this handsome, and damn adorable? She tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear.


"We did it!"


"That we did. A whole lot of times. I mean a whole lot. I don't think I've, um, done it that. So yeah, thanks for that," she said.


"Hey, anytime. You need more babies? Just give me a call, I'll give you a night so great you'll get twins," Liam said.


"I think I have enough babies for now," she said dryly.


"That's great, we set a record! This calls for a drink!"


"I can't drink, Liam--I'm pregnant. I won't be able...to have a single drink for nine whole months. Maybe even more if I don't start bottle feeding right away."


"Yeah, I got ginger ale for the occasion. It's got ale in the title, but Demoman says it and root beer ain't real alcohol, so we're good," Liam said.


He popped out a pair of wine glasses that had seen a lot of use over the years, and poured out enough for both of them.


"I stocked up, because Ma says pregnancy makes you pukey or somethin'? 'I had nine of you, and had morning sickness all nine months' stuff like that, when I don't call enough," Liam said. He chuckled as he poured out the bottle. "I used to take these out and pretend I was some fancy rich fuck drinkin' champagne. Used to pretend to smoke crayons, too. Though pretty soon I upgraded to stealin' my ma's Virginia Slims. Didn't much like the taste, so it never caught on. She yelled my ear off for liftin' her stuff anyways."


He pronounced it "Champ-Pag-Nay, as if he wanted to personally offend Spy on every possible level. Somewhere, she was certain that Spy heard his language being assaulted and shuddered.


They clinked the glasses together. She took a sip, giddy with the newness, the future and possibilities. After years of feeling like she was in a rut, finally, finally something was being crossed off her bucket list.


"A toast, to my dick, who without this wouldn't be happin'," Liam said.


"I'm going to tell the kid they're adopted, it's less embarrassing than admitting the truth," she said.


"Hey, I'm kiddin', though--"


She rolled her eyes. "No you aren't. We've worked together for a long time. I know you well enough to realize that is entirely sincere."


Liam shrugged. His smile was impish as he leaned in. "But can you blame me?"


Like hell she was going to admit that his dick had made her very happy in the past couple of weeks. He'd never let her--or anyone else--hear the end of it. And considering that she was going to have to give up wine, the one thing keeping her sane, he was going to have to work twice as hard.


For once, she was sure he was up to the challenge.


"Yes, I can," she said.


He laughed, bumping his shoulder to hers.


She burped, and covered her mouth. So much for ginger ale being romantic. Undaunted, he took another long drink of ginger ale and let out a louder burp than hers. Leave it to him to make anything into a contest.


"You wanna try the best two out of three? Soldier might be the friggin' champion nose picker and burper, but I can probably beat you."


"No, I do not want to turn this into a burping contest," she said.


"All right, but I'm teachin' the baby to burp the alphabet before it can talk. Speakin' of baby, you goin' to give a toast?"


"I guess I just have to thank you again. You helped make my dreams come true. And no matter what bad lines you came up with after the fact, I'm really, really happy about this."


He traced at the edge of her mouth. "I could make some more dreams come true. Me and my dick."


"You should never ever get laid for a line like that. Lines that bad should discount you from sex forever," she said.


He shrugged. "Eh, I've done worse."


"That's terrifying, and yet, here I am, so I guess I don't have anything to say," she said. She shook her head, and smiled. "But, yes...Thanks for agreeing to this. It's been...fun. Really fun." She smiled up at him. Bad pick up lines and all, he wasn't so bad. Even at his worst, he was kind of amusing. It made her want to ruffle his hair, and kiss him quiet.


Obviously the pregnancy hormones were already getting to her, because a month ago it wouldn't have crossed her mind. At least, she wouldn't have admitted that it crossed her mind, or how much it crossed her mind, or how tempting his flirting really was.


"To us," she said and drained her glass. "And babies."


"Plural? You goin' to ask me for more?" Liam said. He lifted his eyebrows suggestively.


"Maybe. We'll see what I think after labor, and dealing with a newborn on my schedule."


"Aww, no worries, I'll make sure I go play with them. It'll be the first baby that can outpitch the Yankees before they can walk."


She laughed at the thought. The child wasn't even here yet, and she kept opening up her life to let more of him in. Each day was filled with anticipation of the next, even as she wanted to bottle up the time with him and keep these sunny moments forever.


Liam glanced at the clock. "Hey, you wanna watch Star Trek with me? It's on in five."


She leaned against him "There is nothing I'd like more," she said.


Nestled up against him on the same couch they'd likely conceived their first child on, Sophie realized just how many times she'd used the plural, the words of them.


Curled up in a blanket together, she thought the show which would quickly vault to her favorite--or only show. She couldn't tell who was more attractive, Kirk, or Uhura).


And for then, she didn't think about any steps to The Plan, how she could fail it, but instead lived in the moment, even if it had far more instances of we than she had planned for.

*


Liam burst into her office with such force, the door slammed against the wall. Her hand was halfway--by instinct--towards her holster, when it all set in.


"Look what I found!" Liam held up three Richard Scarry books, with mice and numbers and letters all bright and beautiful on the cover. She flipped through them. She could just see it: their child on her lap, with Liam providing all the voices.


Sophie closed her book, and the frankly inaccurate momentary daydream.


"Liam, this is sweet of you, but--"


Liam was so enthusiastic that he continued on, not hearing her last word.


"When the kid comes, I'll read to 'em. I'll give the best readin' anyone ever good, a gold star worthy kind of readin'."


Her face burned rosy. It was like he'd read her mind, though she was fairly sure he couldn't; no secret in humanity would ever be safe if Liam could hear secrets. He couldn't keep a secret even when his life depended on it.


"That's....not part of the Plan," she said, her voice low.


Liam's face fell. It was as if a fist clenched tight over her ribcage and squeezed. She hadn't felt guilt in years, so the appearance of it now was startling.


"...Look, I know you said that you wanted to do this alone, but do you think I can be in this baby's life? It sucks not to have a dad around. I could teach 'em how to strike out all those batters! And oh, I could take 'em to all the games, it'd be great!"


It hadn't been in the plan, but then again, neither had single parenthood. It would bring uncomfortable questions. "Mom, why aren't you and dad married?" "Well, sweetie, we fucked like bunnies until we made you, and then he went back to picking up girls at bars and fast food joints. Your father thinks with his dick, after all.


She'd have to work on her language. Obviously hanging out with some of the roughest men on the entire planet had done something to her. Even the thought wasn't homey enough, and the thought of Liam and his future flings already made her fist clench.


And damn if didn't need more coffee.


She cleared her throat. "I suppose. I mean, we work together, and I don't see myself quitting anytime soon. I'm hardly going to ban you from visiting them."


"Then, see? You're goin' to need somebody to watch Liam jr," Liam said.


"Liam jr?" she said incredulously.


"Yeah, you don't like it? It's the best name around. I should know," Liam said.


"I already picked out a series of names," she said primly. She lifted up a small printed out copy she'd rewritten several times, depending on who had angered her recently.


Liam flipped through the pages.


"Alice is a good name," Liam said. "So is Liam Jr."


"You can have a middle name, but I'm not calling my child the same name I scream out in bed. It's just not happening," she said.


"You got me there," Liam said.


Matches start in ten seconds came over the loudspeakers.


"Oh, crap, I gotta go. Good thing I'm so fast, because I wouldn't make it otherwise. Gotta leave these here, though. Bye!" Liam rushed off without waiting. She knew all too well that he could make it. Liam often made what seemed impossible possible.


She lifted up the books and looked again. He'd looked so utterly happy, giddy even, just to spend time with their child. Her plan had assumed that he would get bored of her about the time she got pregnant. She must've done her calculations wrong, because he was anything but bored of her. And with what happened last night, he wasn't going to go anywhere while she was still pregnant, at least.


And for once, she found the resistance of breaking The Plan slip away. She smiled to herself and slipped the books into her desk.

*



The door closed behind her. Sophie sighed and rubbed at her temples, leaving a trail of blood. That one had been very messy. At least Liam had helped with clean up duty. She left her ruined flats at the door, and limped towards her very own spotty kitchen.


"Think fast!" She blinked into the light of a flash.


"Liam, could you take pictures of me when I'm not covered in blood? The last thing I need is evidence hanging around," she said.


She held out her hand, and confiscated the Polaroid. Liam looked on in dismay as she ripped it into pieces before the picture even developed.


She had a small bulge no bigger than a grapefruit at her stomach now. At most, she looked like she'd eaten a little too much pie around the holidays. Liam couldn't stop kissing her baby bump. She'd wake up with his palm across her stomach.


And Liam couldn't stop photographing her. He'd picked up a camera, and started the scrapbook for the baby long before they were even born.


After a shower, and a change of clothes, she found him considering the camera again.


"Hey, we should take a picture. Pull your shirt up and smile for the camera," Liam said.


"You're asking for erotic pictures?"


"Naw, we're talkin' somethin' else here. I mean, I could be down for that, but I'm talkin' about the baby. For the scrapbook."


"A scrapbook, really? What's next, are you going to join the soccer mom convention?" Sophie said.


"Har har, it don't have to be touchy feely," Liam said. "You could like, put it with lightning bolts or somethin'. Make it rad."


"I don't think you can make a rad baby scrapbook. By the time you've fallen into one of those, you've already traded anything cool ever. For you, anyways. I was never cool, so I don't have any to trade in."


"You just aren't tryin' hard enough. Gotta be creative, a superhero themed scrapbook, maybe with you punchin' out someone on the back," Liam said.


"Medic says no bar fights until the baby comes. No bear fights, either. I'm even limited in my burying," she said, with just a hint of petulance.


"No beer and no bar or fights? Sheesh, that's brutal. No worries, I'll punch plenty of assholes for you. I will draw your name on the wall in blood. Oh, and I'll bury that gross crap, too. All for you, Sophie."


"Good to know, though the name part would just leave evidence."


"Not if we burn down the place," Liam said. He made eager finger guns her way.


"Creative," she said.


She undid her buttons, and lifted up her blouse to show her slightly larger stomach. He didn't have to say 'cheese' to get her to smile: his overly serious expression as he tried to figure out a very simple Polaroid camera was enough to make her smile.


"Now, take one of me!"


He made a kissy face and flexed. She tried to push the button, but she was laughing much too hard at his ridiculousness. "You have to tone it down, or I'll only take blurry pictures of the walls."


"Babe, I can't tone it down, I'm always goin' a million miles an hour," Liam said.


She had to close her eyes to catch him, because every time she looked at him, her chest was filled with such joy spreading out, that she'd laugh from sheer happiness.


*


Maybe it was inspired by all the David Bowie he'd been listening to, but Liam had as many starry cut out stars as he could carry. They spilled out, dropping over the floor as he walked.


"I picked these up on the way here. Just imagine it, our baby, in a-get this, get this-space themed nursery! Before she could respond, Liam came closer, stars falling all around him with every step.


"They glow in the dark!"


"That will be beautiful...but it's probably best not to get too attached to any one nursery. We'll be moving around constantly, and often bases are closed or demolished," she said.


"Then we'll have a ball, do all of 'em in different colors. Then we'll have to upgrade 'em whenever the kid gets bigger. Lots of painting and getting cribs. It'll be a real riot, with so many great baby stuff," Liam said.


"And beds."


"We could get them a race car bed, a dragon bed, a superhero bed, one of those slide bunks--oh crap, this is the best idea we ever had!"


"I think this idea is all yours," she said.


"All my best ideas, they're a little you, too. I mean, I wouldn't even be here talkin' about baby cribs if it wasn't for you."


She hardly expected Liam to ever not take the full spotlight. But under his tender gaze, she could believe that people changed. He certainly had. Or this had been inside him all along, just waiting for a chance to be brought out by a proposition.


She stroked his cheek. "I have to admit, we're pretty good at making plans together."


"See? We're a team to be reckoned with. The best."


"We really are," she said. "The way we worked together to take down that target? We finished in record time."


He smiled, took her hand in his, and kissed the knuckles. "The best," he repeated.


With the lights off, the stars really did glow. Would they calm the baby to sleep? Would they be enough to light her way for every morning feeding? Perhaps they'd have to get a nightlight in here as well.


*


As he undid her bra, cookie crumbs spilled onto her stomach. "oops, there goes the last of my lunch," she said.


Liam bent down and licked them right off her stomach.


"You ate the boob crumbs?" She said incredulously.


"You could call it a midnight snack---wait, wait, I got another. Just another thing to nibble on! Wait, wait---I'll call it breakfast in bed!"


"I thought we were making out, not having a pun war," she said.


"Multitaskin' is a wonderful thing, and I am the best at it. I say I am the best out of a lot of things, but just ask anyone on the street, and they will tell you that I can multitask like a friggin' king of multitaskin'!"


"Just don't multi-task too much. Like trying to tell jokes when I have your cock in my mouth," she said.


"We're doin' that? Gimme five!"


She laughed as she high-fived him back. In his triumph, he almost fell off the bed.


She gripped his shirt hard enough to keep him from falling off.


"My hero," Liam said.


"And you're going to pay me back before this is all over," she said.


"Really?" Liam said. "Yes! I've been beggin' all day for you to let me get a taste. I can't believe there's guys out there who don't like doin' that."


Liam pushed his face into her breasts. He rubbed at the underside enough to make her nipples hard.


"Ah---Careful, they're tender," she said.


"They're bigger," Liam said.


"Pregnancy does that," she said.


"Bein' pregnant sounds kind of awesome. I mean bonus tits? Holy shit, sign me up!"


"Speak for yourself, I'm the one having morning sickness over here. Plus, I don't think you want a huge set of moobs," she said.


"I thought you liked bein' preggers?" Liam said.


"Trust me, I'm thrilled, I'm just less thrilled when I'm vomiting every morning," she said.


"Can't doc prescribe somethin' for that?" Liam said.


"It's supposed to go away eventually. By the third trimester at least."


"So that's--'


"Later," she said.


"You don't know when it is, either," Liam said.


"It's twenty-seven weeks," she said.


"Oh," she said.


"What, what?"


"I just definitely felt the baby move."


He dropped the entire armful of stars and leapt to the couch. "Really?"


She guided his hand to her stomach. His face lit up as he felt the tiny stirring.


"That's--that's the baby? Not just a nasty case of indigestion from some chilli dogs?"


"That's definitely the baby," she said.


"Whoa, this is incredible," he said. He blew a raspberry, and baby moved even more.


"Oh my god, that is so cool," Liam said. He broke into laughter and nuzzled against her belly. "This is just amazin'."


"What the hell," she said, but laughed as he drummed across her stomach.


She laughed as he made several raspberries, like he was playing a game of tag with their child. He kept his hand at her navel. It was like the baby leaned towards him, and his touch.


"Oh man! I can't wait to be a dad," he said.


This time, she didn't correct him.


Instead she said "Soon enough," and kissed him slow.


*


She hadn't even said all I want is a hot bath when she came home. Liam just led her to the bathtub of drawn water, with bubbles filled to the very top.


"They had a deal on bubble bath, so I bought it all."


"I'd ask if you were psychic, but I know you would've told me if you were," she said.


"Nah, I'm just the perfect guy," Liam said.


"Oh, you certainly think so," Sophie said.


She slipped out of her clothes, and into the warm, soothing tub.


"And you do too, huh?" Liam said. There was just a desperate tinge in his voice. "Right?"


"I do when you go and do surprises like this," she said.


The claw-footed bathtub sat two, and it wasn't much of a surprise when Liam slipped in behind her. Warm suds cascaded down her back.


"Don't worry, I got your back," Liam said. Henickered.


"What?" she said.


Your belly is like a battleship pokin' up, or maybe a shark..."


At six months, she'd started to really show. She'd had to buy new clothes, he spent most of his time helping her with her duties, and other than the difference in the center of gravity, things were going well. The morning sickness, which had never been too horribly bad, had settled down.


She couldn't help but count down the days until then, until the nursery would be filled up, and her Plan would be complete.


He started making the jaws theme. He'd been trying to get her to go with him to see the movie, but they didn't give midnight showings at her burial caves, so they'd yet managed to actually make it.


Still, he kept trying.


Liam cupped his fingers over his mouth, muffling his voice. "Over, this is Admiral Beer on the S.S. Belly, over."


"I miss Admiral Beer...and Captain Ale, Rear Admiral Vodka..."


"I played a match with Captain Ale today, he blew tons of shit up," Liam said.


"Good old Captain Ale," she said.


"Admirable Beer, I am seeing wiggling things in this water. Could it be? By thunder, it frickin' is! There's a sea monster, some kind of ten-toed octopus."


She couldn't help but laugh.


He made a sound like rockets, and tickled her toes with his.


"So, how many bath toys have you stocked up?"


"Bath toys? Me?"


"Uh-huh," she said.


"Definitely under ten, unless you count that set as two--Why, you wanna see?" Liam said. "Oh, I got this awesome boat, and a speedboat, and a diver--"


"You'll have to show me the collection later," she said.


He drew a line of foam across her stomach in the shape of a heart.


"We're real eager to see you out here," Liam said.


"We really can't wait," Sophie said. Water splashed over her legs as he held her tight.


He'd be a good parent.


A thought which had been running from her mind, which she couldn't bring herself to correct anymore, not to add on but he isn't mine, but this won't last.


Because now there was a new thought running through her mind: he could be mine, if I wanted him.


When she met him, she'd thought him a cocky, loudmouth narcissistic hired killer who spent most of his time with disastrous pick-up schemes. He didn't make pick ups anymore, and she killed for living as well, so she didn't exactly have any moral high ground here. (She could appreciate a man who knew how to use a gun, and had a decent criminal record.)


Had she been mistaken? Had he changed? Had she changed?


No, everything had changed. And even if she couldn't tell how much of Liam was past and how much was present, she knew that she thoroughly enjoyed every moment spent with him.


*


The first explosion knocked out her computer. The second knocked her against the wall so hard that she felt the breath knocked out of her, the third left a pain so vast that she couldn't tell where it began and where it ended. Smoke filled the room as she could only gaze dully, her mind full of worries that were turned inwards. She tried to push herself up, and unsteady gasp as the pain hit her again.


It took several terrifying moments to struggle for breath as she pushed herself up.


She was used to blood on her hands. She wasn't used to it being her own. Managed to grip the twisted metal. She let out a cry as the sharpness cut a line of red across her palm. She forced herself to her feet and reached for the control panel. If she could just hit the manual shut down...


The screen flickered to life. She saw pieces of him. Sophie had seen this unfold for years and distanced herself, but this time she gasped.


Let respawn still be working, let it still be working... It wasn't a prayer, but a wish repeated over and over as she tried to force the system back online.


It should be just another day at work. Just another day of almost dying.


She looked down, only to realize that her entire shirt had grown stained with blood. Her blood. She could smell smoke in the distance, but everything was growing dark. Her arms and legs felt suddenly very heavy. She started to move towards the door and slumped against the wall.


A voice cut through the darkness.


"God, god, what the fuck, are you okay? Please--please tell me you're okay. Sophie--"


She turned to him, weary and still stained with blood. Her head lolled to one side, dazed and hazy. She tried to focus on him.


"You're alive..."


"Of course I am---that ain't the point---you--you're----"


Her voice had gone far off. "There was an explosion, and I hit hard against the wall. I didn't realize how bad the bleeding was until later. I thought I'd just hurt my arm. But, it wasn't..."


He held her hand, and kissed the knuckles. "God, Sophie, I...I got this. We'll get you to Doc. He'll fix everythin' up."


Walking only made the pain worse. He caught her before she fell. "I don't know if the baby is going to survive," Sophie said in a small voice. "So much for dreams. I can't even do this right. I'm not sure how I ever thought. I could be a mother. I don't even know if the baby will be hurt or not. I could lose..." She broke off in a sob. Sophie rubbed at her eyes until they hurt as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. She felt his lips against her, kissing them away.


"No, no, no. He's way off. Look, us Dempseys are fighters. It ain't over yet. Besides, we've got anti-death stuff and all that crap. I've had my leg ripped off and Doc grew it back in seconds with that medigun of his. We'll get you down to the hospital, and it'll all be right."


"I never worried for myself, or anyone before this. I do now."


"That ain't a bad thing. It ain't a bad thing at all," Liam said.


"I got you, I got you," Liam said. "Don't worry, I got you."


She was lifted--not by Liam, but by another, stronger teammate. The blackness came in and out. The feeling of blood dripping down her stomach, and the pain was a disconcerting reminder.


Fluorescent lights. A bird fluttered up slowly. She could hear the far off sound of Medic speaking rapidly. He gave several commands. Liam yelled something, she didn't catch. But she knew one thing: no matter how much Heavy tried to pull him away, he stayed.




*


She woke up the the cooing of doves above her. Her eyes felt heavy, but she forced herself past the drowsiness. Why, she had dozens of things to do. She couldn't be napping at this hour.


She pushed herself up from the bed, only to be hit with a wave of pain an nausea.


"Ah, there you are," Medic said. A physician's mask was pulled over his face, though the crinkle at his eyes made her realize that he was smiling.


Medic smiling was usually a very bad thing. She fought past the fogginess in her brain and reached to touch her stomach.


His medigun had been hung above her, in some contraption. It didn't look up to code, but it still worked, somehow.


"What--what?"


Liam started awake. His hat had been left aside on the floor beside him. The chair was almost threadbare, and something she was fairly certain Medic had stolen, due to it certainly not being in the itinerary.


"Were...you there the whole time?" Her voice came out a hoarse rasp. She cleared her throat. Her mouth was so dry that her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth.


"Of course, I helped carry you in--and like hell I was up and leavin'--"


"The child is fine," Medic said. He pointed to some kind of machine, only to realize it'd been knocked aside.


"Archimedes, no!"


His doves scattered. Their white wings fluttered to every corner. She couldn't even tell which one was Archimedes, or if they all were Archimedes.


"See, I told you! I fell down tons of times as a kid." He knocked the top of his head with his knuckle. "I'm still kickin'."


She smiled tiredly. "We're still here."


"And God, am I glad for that. We had a talk, promised I'd actually go say confession and call Ma every day, and all sorts of things. By the way, did you ever figure out what it was?"


"...Reactor malfunction, I think," she said.


"Like, nuclear?" Liam said.


"Um, not quite. it's a Respawn thing. I can't really explain; it's really classified," she said.


"Ah, I wouldn't understand that egghead speak, anyways. It don't really matter, just as long as you're okay."


She couldn't tell if it was the drugs, or just him. She felt warm and fuzzy, like she'd been wrapped in a thick blanket.


"I'm glad you're here."


He squeezed her hand. She drifted off, only aware of the warmth, and pressure balanced against the pain.



"Liam...I'm too tired to talk anymore. I'm sorry."


"There's nothin' to be sorry about. I'll be quiet."


"You can't even be quiet when you're bound and gagged," she said.


"I'll do it for you. I don't want to leave you alone for a second. Unless I gotta take a leak. Although if you don't want me to leave then, we'll have to compromise. I bet Sniper would have some tips for that."


She laughed, despite it all. "Of course, I don't think you need company for that."


"Hey, I got a smile again," she said.


"You're good at that," she said. Her voice drifted off sleepily.


"Go on, sleep up. You need all the rest you can get. I'll be here all along. Ain't nobody that can drag me away."


He sat beside her and just held her hand as her eyes closed, and everything became very far away, except for him, and his touch.


*
Repairs were made. She went back to work just two days later. Little had changed. Everything had changed. The point of hiding it was long gone. Not only had she gone up a full cup size, her baby bump was impossible to cover up. She had been dreading this point for a long time, and how the Administrator would react, but no disaster came.


In the end, parts of her life were utterly uninteresting to the Administrator. She couldn't tell if it made her feel relief or just a hint of bittersweet. She'd dedicated so much of her life to someone who saw her as utterly replaceable.


She never thought they'd have heart-to-hearts, but she thought that she was at least indispensable. But in those two days, there was a new girl working jobs she'd once had. The Administrator couldn't even wait 48 hours before hiring new people to replace her.


That meant that Sophie had more free time than she knew what to do with. But Liam was all too willing to fill up that time with kisses, episodes of Star Trek, and flowers on her desk every day.


*
The glass doors closed behind her. Inquisitor Chicken seemed to love the faint purplish grey tiles, and white, along with several large cardboard cut outs of the somewhat uncanny mascot, of a chicken


"Is his name Sir-Clucks-a-Lot?" she muttered to herself as she walked by. For once, Liam didn't hear her.


"You want anythin' special? I'm gettin' a bucket of chicken," Liam said.


"You should get two," she said.


"Really? Damn, I love to see you eat," Liam said.


"I'm eating for two," she said.


"I know, it's wonderful," Liam said. He wandered over to the counter, where she noticed someone else waiting. Her jaw set as she saw the woman lean in, and start a conversation. Probably for old time's sake, she thought bitterly.


She knew the blond woman, just as she knew most all of Liam's attempts and conquests during his period at Mann co. Every member had a file on extracurricular activities, should she have to blackmail them. Which was one of the biggest reason she'd ignored his attempts to date him.


"Long time no see," she said. Her voice had a nasal inflection, which just a hint of sultriness.


"Oh, hey, Brandi," Liam said absently.


Sophie narrowed her eyes, and rose up from where she'd taken a seat--which was harder said than done at eight and a half months.


She put her arm in his. "Liam, make sure you get that bucket to go, would you? I'm famished." She patted her very visible, very pregnant belly for emphasis.


She'd done all but write mine in lipstick over his face, spray her perfume on him, and leave some hickies. She rested on the chair. Obviously, the pregnancy hormones were kicking in, and she was growing irrational.


Rather than taken aback, she seemed amused.


"Oh, I see you're busy. See you around," Brandi said.


To call her an 'old flame' would be pushing it, but Liam didn't paid her little mind, with only a mild see you before passionately settling into his order.


He didn't even glance back at Brandi as he walked towards her. His gaze was so full of warmth, and a smile she'd never seen for anyone else. Her smile, the tender way he looked when he said her name, when he talked about their child.


"You gettin' tired?"


Even though logic told her there was nothing, something deep--hormones, maybe--made her want to push him down and kiss Liam until he was visibly hers.

"Don't make any plans after dinner. I hope you didn't plan on sleeping tonight," Sophie said.


Liam broke into a big smile. He carried the buckets out into the car. Sophie took one last glance. Brandi was talking with someone else. She couldn't tell if it was a boyfriend, or someone else.


Either way, she was glad she was occupied. She trusted Liam, but the irrationality of pregnancy had brought something out from the deep.


She only lasted halfway into dinner before she got his shirt off, and the food was left, forgotten in the heat of the moment. Had he not kissed her in that moment, she would've said it. Her mouth was already forming the words I and love and you against his lips.


She left a hundred hickies all over his lithe body. She'd counted afterwords, when he fell over exhausted. For once, she'd fucked him hard enough for there not to be any pillow talk. And for that, she was glad, because the words were so close to spilling out. Despite it being some afterglow, her mind could only go to the words she'd almost said--the feelings which had been there for some time.


Everyone says things they regret when having sex. It's just the orgasms getting to my brain.


The hickies said otherwise. She'd marked him as hers the minute an old hookup came into the picture. She couldn't deny away the jealousy which had flared up so suddenly, a brushfire which swept everything up in its path.


But even before that, when she'd been in the hospital, her heart had clenched at the idea of him dying for good, and them losing this special piece they'd carved out together.


When did I fall in love with you? When did I throw the Plan out the window?


Even the hospital seemed like an apex, not a beginning. She couldn't mark upon the exact time her lists had faded and he had come so far into her life, but it'd been happening for a while. Maybe she'd been falling in degrees.


As he slept, she rested against him, and thought what a happy life she would have if these days never stopped.


*


The curtains were drawn low. The light from the kitchen flooded in across the wooden floorboards. Sophie paced across the floor, a contract in hand. So many clauses she'd have to redo, as well as her entire revised life to-do list. The takeout chicken was getting cold, but she couldn't focus on food--or anything but her list.


Liam sat back, watching her with some wariness on the couch. The same couch they'd probably conceived this child, their child together. Or bed, or floor, or walls. They'd gotten creative along the way.


"Babe, are you sure you--" Liam stopped. "I mean, you don't wanna go too hard, not just after you got out of the doc's office."


True, every step was getting harder with how far along her pregnancy had gone.


She stopped, and simply stood off into space for a few moments. She couldn't pretend or fight herself any longer to pretend there wasn't a they a them, that Liam and her had become something more through all of this.


"Sophie?" Liam said hopefully.


"I'm going to have to rewrite so many plans. There's fifty pages of contract there and I'll have to revise at least twenty-five of them!"


"For what? Did the Voice do somethin' with the jobs?" Liam said.


"No, I'm going to have to fix all this because I'm hopelessly love with you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I hope you were serious about being a father, because all I want to do is keep like this. Waking up with you, and--everything else. I want to marry you, dammit! I know we haven't even gone on a date, technically, unless the chicken joint and body burying counts―but..."


Liam lit up. He held his hand up for a high five. "I am dead serious. Actually, make that alive serious, which is even more serious than the dead kind, because dead men tell no tales---"


Instead of high-fiving him, she cut him off with a kiss. She'd long ago realized that whenever he went on too much, all she had to do was kiss him or lose some clothes, and no five hour narcissistic monologues would have to happen.


But this time, he was too excited to be distracted. He pulled away to keep talking.


"I don't have a ring yet, but I can get one tomorrow. --Actually, if you think back, that one plan was a plan B. I fulfilled your plan A about perfect husband and baby before you were thirty. Especially the perfect husband part. Plus you got rich, charmin', incredible--"


"And extremely talkative," she said.


"Yeah, good with my tongue," Liam said.


"Really good," she said.


"Besides, my plan came out great," Liam said.


"To get me pregnant?" Sophie said. She patted her swollen stomach. "I suppose you succeeded there."


"Nah, that was your thing. I just wanted you out on a date because I knew I really liked you. And I was goin' for the long haul, knowin' that maybe I might have to wait a few years, or decades, but I was goin' to damn well get that date with you. Which I guess should've told me just how much I liked you, but I didn't know how to put it in words. And sure the whole thing was pretty out there, but I was down with it, because hey, free sex. But once I got there, I realized I wanted to keep datin' you--forever. And that all this time, I really loved you, but just was too friggin' dense to realize how far gone I was."


"Well, if that's what you want, then you're getting it," she said.


"And I mean it about the forever thing. I'm goin' to be takin' you out for every day free you get. We'll have to make a sitter. I bet Engie could do it."


"Well, better than Pyro," she said.


"Just because we're hitched doesn't mean we stop. I mean, I train for runnin' every day. I can't just stop and expect to keep up my miles. I am goin' to bring you so many flowers and romancy crap. I am goin' to be the best dad and husband the world has ever seen!"


He nuzzled against her neck. His warmth breath tickled against her skin. She laughed, and shifted in his embrace.


"This won't be easy. I'm going to be working long hours, and raising children is never simple," she said.


"Even if it's tough, we can make it work. I believe in us," he said.


"I can toast to that. Maybe one day we'll actually be toasting something other than ginger ale."


"Nah, we'll still be drinkin' soda for old time's sake. I'll make sure to do some dick jokes just for you."


She laughed and leaned against him. "I'm sure you will."


The familiar warmth that came there so long ago hadn't left. Sophie knew now that it never would.