Alibi for a Tragedy

Chapter 12: Are you in labour?

Hook, line and sinker!

Those were my exact words to Steven a month ago when we walked out of the Simnions, leaving a rather dreaded Kevin behind in the women's bathroom.
But like all ideas out there, the first try does not always mean success.
Albert Einstein did not determine the theory of relativity on the first try. And I'm sure it took him longer than a month to do so.

"Which one is this?" I ask staring at my half-naked body in the mirror. 

"This is the five to eight weeks one," the woman kneeling in front of me as she attaches a fake belly to my stomach replies.

Like, I said, Albert Einstein...

It's not that my plan wasn't successful. It's simply not moving accordingly with the pace set by Den and Hoffter. Therefore I'm left with only one other alternative; rubbing my pregnancy into Kevin's face and getting him to talk. 

I stare at the awful fake pregnancy prosthetic that's at least three tones away from my natural skin tone. Even the visually impaired would see right through this fuckery. A reminder that just because I'm part of some spy agency, it does not mean they'll always have fancy rich gadgets or use their common sense.
Because seriously...I look like I'm wearing another race's skin on my belly.

"Okay, so," she continues, "you have to come in every third, so I can remove it, change it and also allow you to shower."

"What do you mean allow me to shower?" I frown just as Steven snickers from the other end of the room. For someone who only came for moral support, he is inevitably failing at it.

"Don't worry, you'll be allowed to shower," she says as I struggle to understand her through her thick accent, "just not the area covered by the belly."

"That's disgusting."

"I know," she states with a bored expression and turns around, "think of it as a cast. You just broke your leg and now you're stuck with it. Anyway, a few things to keep in mind. Don't reveal the belly to anyone-

OBVIOUSLY! I don't think anyone would want to actually see this.

-because the blunt ends will show and I don't exactly know how you'll answer to that."

Right! The blunt ends are the problem. 

I release my dress from hold and let it fall. Immediately a small bump can be seen and I cradle it, just as I catch Steven staring at it with such intent.

"Second thing," she continues, "try wearing baggier clothes during the first week or so. You don't want to start wearing tight clothes with a belly that appeared from nowhere."

The next morning, I wake up like usual, early and tired. Except for this time around, I can feel the fake belly prostate digging into my upper abdomen. I lift my feet from the small carpet just beside the bed and stare at the empty bed. Steven is probably up, being the better version of us, exercising. I get up and drag my feet against the wooden tiles that cover the entire bedroom, straight into the kitchen and the rest of the house.

Coffee. 

I drag my feet into the kitchen yawning all the way towards the coffee machine. To my surprise, there's already coffee in the machine. 

If I was to die during a zombie apocalypse I'd probably be the laziest and least entertaining zombie out there. Fuck roaming around and running after people for their delicious brains. Just give me a cup of coffee every morning and I'll be out of your hairs. 

Who decided zombies are addicted to brains anyway- 

"Early bird catches the worm."

I'm startled from my everyday morning routine of staring out the window daydreaming as I sip on my coffee, "I didn't hear you come in," I say to Steven once I turn around wiping my mouth, "coffee?"

"No, I'll pack when I go," he says placing his gym bag onto the kitchen table, "what's on the agenda today?"

I place a hand on my belly and smile, "swoon people with my baby bump and hopefully get something out of it."

"Well keep me updated," he says and picks his gym bag retrieving from the kitchen.

I turn around and grab a glass from the cabinet. Without paying much attention I fill it and the second it touches my mouth I scrunch up in disgust.
Warm water.
Reminds me of my mother. She loves drinking warm water in the early morning because somehow drinking warm water helps with food digestion or whatnot. She always has been somewhat of a self-proclaimed doctor, like most mothers.

Before work, i pop into Danny's and this time around I get myself a coffee, no updates.

"Good morning," Liv sings as she struts into my office.

I don't lift my head up to acknowledge her as I make the final touches to one of the files I must hand into Anna, "Morning," I reply still paying attention to the work in front of me.

She plummets into my client chair and heaves a heavy sigh. A few seconds later, she lets out another exaggerated sigh. This goes on for another minute, working on my nerves, bit by bit.

"Are you in labour?" I ask.

"No."

"Are you suffering?" I ask once again not giving her any attention.

"No."

"In pain?"

"No," Liv laughs.

"Then what's with the heaving?" I lift my head up to look at her, but I choke up on my own words, "wow holy goats!"

I gawk at Liv's hair or whatever is remaining of it, my jaw sweeping the floor. I understand the heaving now.

'What did Trevor say?"

"He didn't say, wow, but he didn't say he hated it either."

"Well, I like it."

I clearly misjudged how she would look like with short hair. Sitting in front of me is no fifteen-year-old boy lookalike who has just hit puberty. It's a fierce-looking young woman who has clearly been shielding some sharp bone structures.

"Eh, it's not much, but I'll take," she says shyly.

I chuckle, "Girl I love it. You look beautiful."

"Why thank you, "she says chuckling before composing herself and sitting up, 'Okay let me get back to work," she giggles and leaves my office just as my work phone rings.

"Mr Ford wants to see you in his office," the person on the other end says and I place the phone down.

It was definitely all the belly cradling I did when I was walking into the building.

"The Thornbergs's account," Kevin throws a file onto his desk the second I step foot into his office then puts his hands into his trouser pockets.

I walk over to the desk and pick it up, "We got it?" I ask with a huge grin on my face.

"Yes," he says smiling as well, "and now it's yours. Just like I promised."

Without giving our awkward situation a second thought, I leap in his direction and hug him. He's a bit reluctant at first but eventually returns the hug.
I step away from his awkward, all in character and I can tell he's looking at my belly. You don't seriously think I just go around hugging my bosses, do you? 

No, of course not. I just sleep with them.

"Have you figured out who's it is yet?" he breaks the silence.

I pick the file up from the desk and turn to look back at him, cuddling it, "Not yet."

"Are you keeping it?"

"Yes," I reply in a heartbeat.

He nods and his adam's apple wobbles, "And Steven? What did he say?"

"I don't think it matters."

"Considering all things, don't you think-" he says looking down before I interrupt him.

"Yeah, Uhm," I scratch my forehead, "I'm not having this conversation with you, especially not here of all places."

"Then where?"