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B.J Sandburg Part Seventeen.
"Two?" Blair repeated. "You mean my heartbeat and... and..."
"No," Jim choked. He lifted a shaking hand and waved it at Blair's stomach. "Two. In there." Then he rocked back on his heels, shock blanking out the world around them. All he was aware of were the two of them in this room.
Four of them now.
"This can't be happening," Blair said blankly. He sat on the edge of the bed like a rag doll. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening."
He seemed inclined to continue on in this vein for quite some time. Jim thought he should probably interrupt, but he wasn't sure what to say. The sound of that rapid pair of heartbeats still rang in his ears, altering his world forever.
"We were so careful," Blair appealed.
"Accidents happen?" Jim tried lamely.
"Accidents?" Blair repeated. His eyes fired with an unholy light and Jim found himself inching away. "This was no accident," Blair said, finding his feet and towering over Jim menacingly. "This was a plot!"
Jim had found cause to doubt Blair's sanity once before. But now he had the feeling he was really seeing the straw that broke the camels back in Blair's poor abused brain.
"Plot?" he echoed weakly.
"I told you, Jim," Blair raged. "This whole damned thing has been designed to knock me up! I told you it was some bizarre mating instinct, and you scoffed! Well, now you know! Now you see!"
Blair froze in an attitude of righteous indignation. "I'm pre... I'm preg..." He collapsed back on the bed. "I'm toast," he finished miserably.
Jim shook his head, looking around his bedroom shakily. He climbed to his feet, holding onto the edge of the bed when his legs threatened to drop away beneath him. "All right," Chief," he attempted to comfort. "We... we'll figure something out. I promise."
"We?" Blair spat out. He shifted away from Jim deliberately. "Don't say 'we' right now, Jim, okay? Because we are not preg... preg... We are not in trouble here!"
Jim tried not to be hurt by Blair's words. After all, he was pretty stressed right now. To say the least.
"I've been right there alongside you through this, Chief," he pointed out firmly.
"Yeah, you were there when my insides were leaking out," Blair said fitfully. "When that sadist of a doctor had me up in stirrups. When my organic chemistry lecturer pinched me on the butt!"
"Don't take this out on me!" Jim roared back, patience at an end. "I am part of this too!" he pointed at Blair's stomach. "Those are my... You are..." He broke off. "I'm part of this too!" he yelled.
"Oh, you're part of this all right!" Blair screeched, in Jim's face. "You did this to me!"
Jim leaned over even further, until Blair had to crane his head back. "Well I didn't do it alone!"
Blair opened his mouth to retaliate, finger upraised. He groped for words, mouth flapping. "Oh... Oh... Oh shit!" he yelled.
"Shit!" Jim yelled too, shaking his fists at the ceiling. "Shit!"
He yelled so hard the rafters shook, and when his head stopped ringing he realised he was sitting on floor.
On the floor.
Again.
This time Blair was right there next to him. Looked like the kid's days of taking it on the chin were over.
"This can't be happening," Blair was mumbling, and Jim sighed. Back to this again.
"We can't fall apart, Chief," he said reasonably.
"Oh I don't know, Jim," Blair reviving long enough to remark sarcastically. "I can't come up with a better reason to fall apart, can you?"
"Blair," Jim soothed.
"I mean, on a list of things to panic about, I personally think this is right up there in the top five." He counted on his fingers. "Alien invasion, Bush getting re-elected, Blair preg... preg," he broke off in frustration. "I can't even say it!" he wailed. "How am I gonna live it?"
Jim judged he could now wrap a comforting arm around Blair without the young woman ripping it off him and beating him to death with it. He was careful all the same as he made the attempt. Blair just sat still under his arm.
Then he stiffened. "Wait a minute," he gasped. "I can't live it." He turned and gazed up at Jim. "I only have four months to go."
The words sank in slowly. "And we only had sex four months ago," Jim calculated, remembering that October Saturday. It was the first time he'd thought back to that day without a glow of love and satisfaction.
He was too busy trying not to throw up.
"What... what does that mean?" Jim stuttered.
"Don't keep asking me that!" Blair wailed. "I don't know, all right! I don't know why I was fertile, I don't know when we slipped up, I don't know how I'm supposed to carry two... two..." He faltered to a stop.
Jim tightened his arm. "Okay, Chief, okay. Calm down."
"Two," Blair repeated.
"First thing is we need to get you to a doctor," Jim said aloud, trying to order his scrambled brain to think logically.
Blair ripped out from under his arm. "Oh no we don't," he corrected. "No more doctors and stirrups and sharp pointed things for me." He looked around the bedroom, where the afternoon had faded into evening. "I'm outta here," he muttered.
Jim watched open-mouthed as he clumped down the stairs. "Where are you going?" he demanded, scrambling to follow.
"I need air," Blair said, slipping his feet into shoes and pulling down his leather coat.
"It's getting dark," Jim said, pointing outside. He was soundly ignored. "Blair!" he said loudly, catching one slim muscled arm. Wild blue eyes jerked to meet his. "You can't outrun this," he continued more gently.
"I can't just sit in here like this," Blair said desperately. "I'll go nuts."
"Then we'll go for a walk," Jim said firmly. "Together."
Blair nodded mutely, jaw set, and Jim followed him down stairs. They walked towards the waterfront, side by side, in silence. Jim found himself studying Blair from the corner of his eye, tracing his now familiar figure. Maybe he had put on a little weight, but surely not enough to explain two kicking... moving... two...
Shit.
They came to a halt by a high wire fence and leaned against it, fingers clenching the wide wire. Yachts bobbed gently at their moorings, now and then bumping against the docks.
"We need to see a doctor," Jim said quietly. "We need to get this taken care of."
Blair was sombre. "Taken care of," he repeated.
Jim turned, leaning back against the fence. "This is your life we're talking about, Chief."
"My life." Blair repeated. He took a deep breath, and then another. "Right," he breathed. "I'm calm."
"Glad to hear it," Jim said genuinely. "We will get through this, Blair. Together."
"Hey, Jim?"
Jim looked down at his friend in concern. "Yeah?"
"I'm starved."
Jim blinked in surprise. "You can eat?" he asked incredulously.
"Apparently," Blair answered, looking a little surprised himself. "In fact, I could eat a horse."
Jim looked around, spotting a restaurant sign in the distance. "How about Chinese?"
Blair's pale face brightened with the first real colour he'd shown in an hour. "Sounds good!"
********
Jim watched in admiring silence as Blair devoured both their meals effortlessly. The shock they'd both suffered had left Jim with a burning in his belly and a headache the size of Cascade Towers, but whatever Blair was going through now had not affected his appetite in the least.
"I should have known," he said, around a mouthful of kung-po chicken. "The nausea, the way certain smells made me sick." He rolled his eyes. "Stomach flu," he said in disgust.
"How could you have known?" Jim said reasonably. Blair reached out with his chopsticks and snagged Jim's last spring roll, stuffing it into his mouth.
He paused in mid chew. "You didn't want that, did you?" he muffled out.
Jim pushed his plate of vegetables forward too. "Help yourself," he invited. At least this was better than incoherent mutterings, or bitter accusations.
"But I did know," Blair pointed out, munching hard. "I knew and I ignored my own instincts."
"Back to the mating theory?" Jim sighed.
"It makes sense," Blair argued.
"No it doesn't," Jim disagreed. "Face it, Chief, this," he nodded down significantly at Blair's stomach, "must have happened months ago. Well, I for one haven't noticed your mating drive abating any since then. Have you?"
"Maybe I was faking," Blair smirked.
Jim felt his lips curve in an impossible smile. How could they sit here smirking at each other when the whole world had turned on its axis?
Because they'd done it before. When a young man named Blair changed into a woman named B.J.
Blair had been expecting that, but Jim hadn't. He'd coped with that lunacy, he'd cope with this.
What choice did they have?
********
"What was the name of that doctor you saw before?" Jim said, flipping through their phone book.
"Okita," Blair said absently. He was sitting on the couch, knees up to his chest, staring into the fireplace absently. "I don't want to go back to her."
"Another doctor then," Jim suggested.
Blair shrugged. "I don't want to see any doctor."
"But-" Jim bit off. "Okay, what do you want to do?"
Blair thought long and hard, head on one side. "Have dessert?" he finally suggested.
Jim rubbed between his brows. "I should have guessed," he retorted, opening the freezer and pulling out a carton of ice cream.
"Do we have any bananas?" Blair drifted over to the refrigerator.
Jim stood back and watched with awe as Blair constructed a sickening looking confection out of various ingredients. And then proceeded to devour it.
"We really have to get you to a doctor," he said in dazed fascination. "Why didn't I notice your appetite?"
"There's nothing wrong with my appetite," Blair defended, scooping up a piece of banana and chewing it with a blissful expression. "It's the same as it ever was," he said.
"Right," Jim said wryly. "All the same, you do see, Chief, that we have to get you to a doctor. Right?"
Blair swallowed, then looked down at the runny remains in his bowl with dislike. "I guess so," he said sourly, pushing the bowl away.
"So, you really didn't like this Dr. Okita? Or is it just gynecologists in general you object to?"
"She was all right I guess." Blair laid a hand over his stomach, looking queasy. "Maybe she'll tell us it was all a mistake?" he added, not very hopefully.
"Sure," Jim agreed sardonically, "and like Captain Hook you just swallowed a watch. Two watches," he corrected.
"Two," Blair repeated. Then he was on his feet and racing for the bathroom.
Hoping he'd made it in time, Jim followed. He found Blair on his knees by the bowl, spitting painfully.
"Ack," Blair gagged.
Jim dialed down his sense of smell, and then as Blair gagged again, his hearing too. He wrung out a wash cloth and carried it over to the distressed young woman, folding it and laying it on a hot forehead as Blair laid his head on his arms.
"Can't a man even puke in peace?" he choked.
"You want a glass of water?"
"Please."
Jim bought a frosty glass and watched as Blair rinsed and spat, and then took a grateful gulp.
"Maybe the Chinese food was off?" he suggested weakly.
Jim didn't suggest it might have been the sheer volume of food consumed that was the problem. Not to mention that gross dessert.
"Do you know anything about the timing of these things?" Jim asked quietly.
Blair sighed. "About as much as any average unmarried man, I guess."
"Then how... how preg... how far along do you think this is?"
"I don't know," Blair said soberly. "But even if this happened the first night we made love, then it's only four months. And I have less than four months to go before Blair Sandburg makes an appearance again."
"That gives us plenty of time to take care of it then," Jim said with resolve.
"Take care of it," Blair sighed.
Jim laid a loving hand on Blair's tangled curls, smoothing them back from his forehead. "This was a mistake, Blair," he said quietly. "We'll do what we have to do to fix it."
"A mistake," Blair repeated. He turned a wide blue gaze on Jim. "Then why does it feel as if this was the way it was meant to be all along?"
"That doesn't make sense," Jim said firmly. "Let's have a shower," he suggested more softly. "And get some sleep."
Blair leaned forward, resting his head on Jim's shoulder. "And when we wake up it'll all be over?" he yawned hopefully.
"Soon," Jim promised.
He had promised a long time ago to do whatever it took to keep Blair safe. Now they had only one course open to them. He prayed they could take it without too great a toll on themselves.
Blair was dazed and weary throughout his shower, letting Jim soap him up and rinse him off. Naked, the slight changes in his body were more obvious, and Jim wondered how he could have been so blind as to miss them.
Because he wasn't looking for them? Because after those first frantic weeks the words 'Blair' and 'pregnant' had never appeared together in his thoughts.
Because even now, with the sound of those tiny rapid heartbeats echoing in his skull, even now it all seemed like some bizarre dream.
Nightmare.
When Jim ran the washcloth over the slight pout of Blair's belly the young woman's hands captured his, holding them against him. Blair's wet head rested on his shoulder and they stood curled together for a long time.
********
"What did you tell Simon?" Blair asked nervously.
"I didn't," Jim said briefly. "He wasn't in when I left." He studied Blair's hunched figure carefully. "I am entitled to personal time, Blair."
"I just want this over!" Blair said sharply, standing up and pacing the small waiting room.
"Are you feeling all right?" Jim asked, trying to disguise his deep concern. The last two days awaiting this doctor's appointment had been tough on both of them. Blair had skipped class, avoiding going out in the daytime, and then unleashing his pent up energy at night, walking them both for miles.
He wasn't sleeping either, his dreams jerking him awake time after time, fragmented images he couldn't seem to make sense of.
Blair laughed wryly. "I feel great. I don't puke in the morning, but by afternoon I would kill everyone I know for a nap. The smell of anything with soap in it turns my stomach, so I haven't washed dishes or clothes in two days. I can eat the gross national product of Switzerland in one chocolate break, but even the thought of coffee makes me throw up." He laid one hand on stomach. "Now if I could only get through a night without those damn dreams." He sat back down on his chair, arms wrapped around his torso. "I feel like I'm losing control of everything," he whispered.
"This will be over soon," Jim promised.
"It's not gonna be that easy," Blair said gloomily.
"Ms Sandburg?" A white clothed nurse smiled at them from the door. "Mr. Ellison? Doctor will see you now."
********
"Well, there's no doubt," the doctor said, pulling her gloves off. Blair pulled his gown closed in front and sat up, Jim's arm behind him. "Quite advanced I'd say. Maybe, sixteen to eighteen weeks?"
"Sixteen, no more," Blair said quietly.
She shot him a sharp look. "As you've no doubt realised, no form of contraception is one hundred percent successful. Are you sure about those dates?"
"As sure as I can be," Blair returned.
"You know, B.J. Even non-penetrative sex can result in pregnancy, if you were engaged in it without condoms. Those sperms are tricky little buggers."
Blair looked startled, exchanging a blinking look with Jim. "I knew that," he defended. "We were... I'm sure we were careful then too."
"Well then, sixteen weeks." Dr Okita made a notation in her folder.
"Twins run in my family," Blair said suddenly.
"The chance of twins is about two thousand to one," Okita smiled. "But if there were two little guys in there, it might explain why you seemed further along in the physical exam." She flipped open a book. "I'll give you a form for an ultrasound, that should answer our questions. The lab's across the road, they don't make appointments, just take this and wait your turn." She scrawled a signature and handed the slip of paper over.
"It's too late for a termination, isn't it?" Blair asked.
Okita looked serious. "Much too late," she confirmed quietly. "Except in cases of medical emergency. There are other options, B.J." She shot a glance at Jim. "Adoption, for one."
Jim stood, hand on Blair's elbow as he helped him from the examination table. "Let's get you dressed, Chief," he said quietly. Neither of them wanted to hear this.
********
"So it will be illegal then," Blair said miserably.
"We'll find the best," Jim swore. "No backyard job, I promise. Maybe Naomi will know someone?"
"No," Blair said sharply. "I don't want Naomi to know about this," he added fiercely. "Not ever."
"Okay," Jim soothed. "It's okay."
They sat silently, ignoring the other patients who came and went in the waiting room.
Jim tried to read Blair without success. Other than the occasional burst of emotion the young woman had closed down emotionally, refusing to discuss the situation any further than the doctor's appointment he'd just endured.
The older man squashed his own feelings of guilt as he glanced at that sombre profile. His promises of taking care of Blair had vanished in a sea of passion and love. But they had been careful, as careful as he knew how to be.
"I'm sorry, Blair," he said quietly. Tentatively he reached out and picked up Blair's hand. He studied it, stroking the slim pink fingers, the neatly trimmed translucent nails. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."
"I just want it to be over," Blair said, eyes on Jim's hand where it held his. "I feel like I've been possessed by aliens or something." He glanced around the waiting room. Two woman waited, sitting opposite them. "When my body changed, hormones and periods and all those weird feelings and impulses... Even then it was still me, you know?"
"I know," Jim assured his quietly. "I've always known."
Blair looked him in the eye for the first time in days. The frost in his blue gaze faded, replaced by a glimpse of his old tenderness. "Yes, you have," he agreed softly. He squeezed Jim's hand gratefully. "It was always just me I had to worry about. Then it was you, but you're big and strong, you can take care of yourself."
Jim smiled back, thinking what a woeful job he'd done taking care of himself before this little bundle of love and laughter had barreled into his life.
"But now it's not just us," Blair said simply. "As screw-ups go this one has cosmic proportions. And implications."
Jim groped for words, without actually putting into words what they had to do. "This is your life at stake, Blair," he said finally. "If you are still in this condition when it's time for you to change, you could die." He stopped, throat closed for a moment in terror at the thought.
Blair's hand tightened around his again.
"Or I could stay this way," he said, as if just realising it. "Forever."
Jim blinked down at him. "No," he said automatically. "We can't let it get that far. You do see that, don't you?" he said, choking on guilt and worry.
Blair's face turned away again. "Yes," he agreed softly. "I just want this to be over," he said again. "This whole thing."
Chest tight, Jim prayed he wasn't included in that wish.
A white coated technician called Blair's name and they both stood up.
"May I come in too?" Jim asked politely.
"No problem," he shrugged. "Lots of fathers do."
Jim squared his shoulders and walked by Blair's side into the small room, dominated by the big machine and monitor.
"Just get undressed and into the robe," the tech explained. "The opening at the front of course. The doctor will be in shortly."
"This is too real," Blair moaned, clutching the stiff blue robe around him as he sat on the examination bed. "If I never stretch out on one of these things again, it'll be too soon."
Only once more if we're lucky, Jim thought soberly.
A white haired man bustled in, snapping on gloves. "Ms Sandburg," he greeted, glancing at his folder. "Ready to take a look see in there?"
Blair swallowed. "No," he muttered, laying back.
"Won't hurt a bit," the doctor grinned. "Let's see, Dr Okita thinks eighteen weeks and you're saying sixteen? Is that right? Well, let's take a look. Winner gets a lollypop."
Jim sighed and shook his head. Cheerful doctors were just too much to take when you were trying to hold onto gloomy.
"Let's see," the doctor said thoughtfully, squeezing the clear gel liberally over Blair's stomach. He took the wand and pressed firmly, leaving a white trail as he moved it from place to place.
It looked uncomfortable.
"There we go," the doctor chuckled.
Jim frowned at the monitor. It looked like so much snow to him. If it had been his TV he would have been kicking it, or buying a new aerial. "I don't see anything," he said dubiously.
The doctor ran his finger along the monitors' face. "See that pretty little necklace there?"
Jim's eyes focused, making out a pattern. "Yeah?"
"Where?" Blair said, craning his head. The doctor rotated the monitor a little and pointed. "There. That's a backbone."
Blair frowned. "It's like the inside of a washing machine in there."
The doctor moved the wand again with practised precision. "Ah."
"A hand," Jim exclaimed, seeing images more clearly now that he knew what to look for.
"Well spotted," the doctor admired. He shifted the wand a fraction. "See, young lady?" he pointed. "See it?"
"A hand," Blair said in awe. "Look at the bones!" He looked down at his sticky belly and then back up. "They're perfect!."
"Hold the phone!" The doctor said excitedly. "What have we here?" He ran another finger along the monitor.
"Another backbone," Blair guessed. He looked at Jim. "Twins."
"Congratulations," the doctor beamed. "And I'd say we're looking at sixteen week twins at that. I'll be able to narrow that down a lot further when I take a closer look at the video." He winked at Blair. "You win the lollypop."
"Yeah. I win," Blair said wryly, eyes locked on Jim's.
********
"Thirty-two weeks," Blair said, peering at his laptop. He scrolled down the page. "At thirty two weeks they have a good chance of surviving. If they make it through the trauma of a C-section."
Jim sat opposite him, hands clenched. "We must be nuts," he said quietly.
But of course he knew, there'd be no more talk of abortions.
End of Part Seventeen
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