Colors of Love

Twenty-One

February, 1992

Roughly a month and a-half after Yule, the next Sabbat on what was referred to as the Wheel of the Year rolled around. Known by the name Imbolc–which quite literally translated to Ewe's milk–it was said to celebrate that Winter was half-over, and the warmth of Spring was closer to making its presence known. Not only that, but it was the Time of Year that the Ewes started delivering their Lambs, which was why their milk was more or less sacred and incorporated into a lotta different parts of the Sabbat's feast.

        Just a Day after the Sabbat in question–which fell on what most knew as Groundhog Day–Bobby and Richie'd both made their way into the heart of Los Angeles. It was the first Time that the remaining trio of original members'd entered a studio since they were recording their most recent album, Flesh and Blood. At the same Time, it was the first Time they were ever entering a studio without their Mad Hatter of a former lead guitarist, so this moment was a bit bittersweet for them. They'd always wanted their band to succeed, but after bringing CC into the fold back in 1985, they couldn't imagine attaining that Success without him.

        Sighing as he parked his car outside A&M Studios–which was all of a couple miles away from where they'd recorded Open Up–the older bassist reached down to caress his belly. Practically unnoticeable for being nearly four months pregnant just like during his first pregnancy, he wasn't too worried about hiding his condition today–he was more worried about how today was gonna go as a band with a new lead guitarist.

        "I'm sure it'll work out all right, hon," the young Neko said, reaching over to grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

        "It's just–it's the first Time we've ever gone into a studio without C," Bobby sighed, looking up at him.

        "Look, I get it," he assured him. "There's a brotherhood there that I'll prolly never be a true part of."

        "Well, I wouldn't quite put it like that," the older bassist chuckled.

        "Sadly, it's true, and you know it as well as I do," Richie told him. "But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna give it my all, even if I don't remain part of the band."

        "Yeah, 'cuz at the End of the Day, I'd rather you as our guitarist not work out than to lose ya altogether since I don't wanna lose another mate," he agreed.

        "Which's why I say that I'ma give it my all, but it won't hurt my feelings, if this doesn't work out," the young Neko chuckled. "Nor will not being a true part of the brotherhood between you, Bret, and Rikki."

        "Well, let's quit playing with our dipsticks and get in there," Bobby laughed. "If nothing else, I'm just glad that I'm hardly showing again, so I don't have the extra stress of trying to hide it."

        "I'm still shocked by that," he admitted as they made to open their doors.

        "I barely showed the last Time till right at the End," the older bassist said, unable to help a grin. "And that was with twins, so as long as we don't have another surprise set on our hands, I doubt I'll show even that much this Time around."

        "How much were ya showing by the Time they were born?" Richie queried curiously.

        "Looked like I was only seven, maybe seven and a-half months, if compared to a pregnant woman," he answered. "It's 'cuz I'm six-foot-even, so I've a longer torso to work with, and I'm relatively fit on top of it."

        The young Neko wore a thoughtful look as they climbed out so they could head around to his trunk and grab their gear. He'd absolutely no experience with pregnancy–not even as the expectant father–so he wasn't quite sure how that kinda thing worked. But he knew now wasn't the Time or placeta ask, considering they were here at the studio to work, not to talk about personal Lives. Not only that, but he was sure his shared mate'd bean him a good one for mentioning his pregnancy in a public setting since it was pretty clear that he didn't want it to become public Knowledge.