A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 1 - Now Streaming

"You successfully make camp for the night on the moors, the whispering spirits on the wind doing little to interrupt your rest. You rise the next morning and... Lunea?"

"Ugh," I groaned, already knowing what was coming. I picked up my twenty-sided die and rolled it, then winced. "Five."

"With your--"

"That's with my con bonus."

Maria hissed through her teeth and gave me an apologetic look. "You know what that means."

I did. I gave my best wretched groan as I turned from the table and mimed vomiting behind myself, only feeling slightly mollified by the sound of Jonah dry heaving from the other side of the table.

"Morning sickness again?" Brian asked me. Well, Burg asked Lunea, to be more accurate, as I felt him gently rub my back.

"Urg," I gurgled in response, giving another half-heave before turning around and theatrically wiping my mouth with my arm. He offered me my water bottle, and I gave him a thankful smile as I opened it and took a long swig.

"We should have left her in town," Jonah, IE "Black John," hissed, glaring at me. "She's a liability."

"Oh, shove off, you sourpuss," Sydney said in her Sunny voice, giving him a none-too-gentle shove of her own as she said it. "The girl's tough, and need I remind you if it weren't for her magic we'da never gotten ya out of that poison trap you failed to disarm last time?"

"Psht," he scoffed, turning his glare on her. "You're a dwarf, and *dwarves* are tough. She's a stinking half-breed. Their elven blood makes 'em weaker than wet paper dolls. First furback we come across so much as breathes on her we'll be down a party member and up a dead weight."

"What's that about elven blood?" Deidre asked from his other side, giving Jonah a look that said, none too subtly, just how much she wanted him to say something else in front of her own full-blood elf character.

"Yeah, but you're a cleric," he argued, "not some half-dressed enchantress slut who--"

"*John*," Maria said in her Voice of Command.

Jonah looked around at the rest of the table and finally read the room. "Whatever." He gave me one last withering look before turning an icy smile on Maria. "I'm gonna scout ahead a little bit, while everyone else gets things packed up."

"You do that," Maria agreed in a calm tone, though her eyes still held a steely edge. "And if nobody else has anything they want to take care of, I think we're all a little on edge, so we'll call it here for tonight."

The rest of us shook our heads.

"In that case," Maria said, turning her attention from us to the camera at the end of the table, "thank you all for joining us. Wednesday Knights will return with more adventures next Wednesday! There will be a live chat stream re-run on Friday, and don't forget to catch our new series Gnome Bowl this coming Monday, hosted by our own Aaron Verre! But for now, remember: we love you, be kind, and as always... keep adventuring."

The lights went down as the end of stream music played, and we all sat in silence for a few minutes, both to make sure the stream was off air and catch our breaths.

One of the assistants moved through the shadows to Maria's side, and after another moment, the lights came back up. "Alright, folks," Maria said, in the exasperated way that told us we were in trouble. "I'd hoped we'd get another half hour or so in tonight, try and get y'all to the next town, but here we are."

"Maybe if we'd made it there we coulda dropped the dead weight."

"Don't start on this again, man," I said, hanging my head in frustration.

"I'm just sayin' you fucked up and oughta just roll a new character," Jonah said, ignoring the fact that both Deidre and Sydney had stood up from their seats and were glaring down at him. "Maybe one with a dick this time."

"Hey hey hey," Aaron, the sixth player in our game, finally spoke up from where he'd sat silent to my right. "For real, enough of this. You've been ragging on Leigh about this for months, man. What the hell?"

"Fuckin' whatever," Jonah said, slamming his chair back and standing up. "I'm goin' out for a smoke. I'll catch up on the after-game notes later." He gave me one last nasty look before knocking Sydney with his shoulder and heading out the side door, our production staff giving him a wide berth like they usually did after sessions.

As soon as the door clicked closed behind him, the energy in the room relaxed considerably.

Maria cracked her neck. "Alright, now the drama queen's gone, down to business."

"Don't let him catch you calling him that," Sydney said, sitting down on the edge of the table and crossing her arms. "Even if it's the truth."

Deidre collapsed back into her own seat, tossing a wary glance toward the side door. "I swear he gets worse every session."

"Guys..." Maria started, then sighed. "Can we forget about Jonah for now? Aaron, you did great this session. It seems like you're finally figuring out how you want to handle Adrian's powers."

Aaron blushed at Maria's praise but nodded. "Yeah. I'm figuring out who he is, and how his relationship with Shanah works. When we get a chance, I think he'd like to pursue a higher rank in his order."

"That could open up some fun questlines for us, and improving the party's relationship with the Paladins of Shanah would be a good arc in our storyline," Maria agreed, giving him another encouraging smile. "On the other end of the spectrum, Brian? You seemed to struggle with Burg's druid abilities more this session than usual."

Brian groaned and leaned back in his chair, balancing it on its back feet in that way that always made me worry he would topple over, even if he never had. "Yeah, I'm not liking this class as much as I thought I would. The whole 'guardian of nature' thing is neat, but the restrictions are a real pain in the ass."

"Yeah, I warned you about that when we were planning this campaign. Do you want to work toward switching characters?"

Brian looked pensive for a moment, then shook his head. "Not on your life. I like Burg a lot, it's just the class restrictions that are rubbing me the wrong way. Besides, no way am I gonna abandon my baby mama like that," he said, giving me a wide grin.

"Hmmm." Maria tapped her lips with her pen a few times, then took some notes. "I'll message you some ideas later. Work on a class change story arc of some kind, perhaps?"

"That'd be cool, yeah," Brian nodded, his eyes brightening at the idea of getting to change his character up.

"Cool. And speaking of your baby mama..." Maria gave me a long look.

I grunted. "I'm not making a different character."

"I wasn't gonna ask you to."

"No way," Sydney chimed in. "Lunea's one of our viewers' favorite characters. Not only would it hurt our views, but it'd mean we'd have to re-work a lot of our party's reasons for adventuring."

"Jonah can get fucked by a freight train," Deidre chimed in with her usual nuance as she casually doodled a penis on the cover of the character sheet he had left behind.

Maria sighed again. "Really, guys, just... Deedee, put the pen down, you know that just pisses him off. I'm tired of Jonah's bullshit too, but...."

"But?"

"But he's one of us."

Silence.

"Anyway, what I was gonna say is that I'm liking the way you're developing Lunea as a character, and a lot of the acting you're bringing into your play. We've gotten a lot of comments from moms who follow our show about how they appreciate seeing you protect your baby bump and the humor you've brought into presenting the challenges of being a pregnant adventurer."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "That's great to hear. It's a difficult topic to research, so I've been worried I wasn't doing a good job of it."

"You're doing great!"

"I've loved it!"

"You sure you aren't really pregnant?"

I glared at Brian for that one.

"Hey, don't look at me like that. You're the one who bought that mustard flavored ice cream that's in the fridge."

"I didn't know it was mustard flavored!"

"It says Grey Pupon right on the carton."

"I thought that was a tea or something!"

I stared daggers at Brian, while he just grinned back in the same way he did every time he teased me, which was far too often in my opinion.

"One thing's for sure, you two definitely act like a couple," Sydney said with an amused grin of her own.

"We do not!" Brian and I said at the same time, definitely not helping.

"Alright already! Jeezus," Maria said, then crossed herself. "Just keep up the good work. I've been doing research of my own, and we're about sixteen weeks in, so by estimation you're definitely showing at this point, but I think I'm gonna go ahead and drop the DC and frequency on the nausea checks since we're well into your second trimester now."

"Oh thank god!"

Maria chuckled. "You say that now, but just wait 'til the third trimester. Penalties on Dex and Con checks 'cause of side effects of the pregnancy, and I've got something special I'm trying to plan us toward for the birth."

"There's a lot of talk in the forums about that," Sydney said. "Lots of speculation on if the baby's gonna be human or half-elf, a boy or a girl, and more."

"All good questions. Some I've already got answers to," Maria said, her eyes sparkling. "And none I'm answering just yet."

"When we get to town Dahlia wants to buy some yarn and knitting needles so she can start making clothes for the baby during our downtimes."

"I didn't know you'd specced points into that kind of thing."

"I didn't," Deidre said, a wicked glean in her eyes.

Great.

"I did," Aaron said, blushing when we all turned our attention to him. "Remember, my character background is I was a tailor's apprentice before I received my call to serve?"

"I don't know that tailoring and knitting qualify as the same skill set," Maria countered, " but I'll check."

Aaron shrugged. "If I can, I'll help her with the clothes."

"Thanks!"

Sydney hissed through her teeth as she scanned her phone. "There's already some talk in the forums about Jonah's blow-up earlier."

"They're calling that a blow-up? That was hardly anything. Remember how he acted last series, when we killed the demon he was trying to convince Maria to let him bind to his warlock's will? That was a blow-up."

We all laughed at that.

"We'll deal with Jonah when we gotta," Maria said solemnly. "But for now, his character fills an important role in the party, so until we figure out what we want to do about that... let's talk about the upcoming convention instead."

"They've confirmed Samoa Joe is gonna be there!" Deidre squealed, bouncing in her chair excitedly. "He's supposed to do a panel on the live-action version of Battle Droid Phoenix."

"Ugh. Another live-action movie based on an anime. Those are always terrible."

"Well, I'm excited for it."

"More importantly, we should talk about our show at the con, right?" Maria said, using her mom-voice. "We're just over two weeks out, so if anyone has issues with being there the full weekend, now's pretty much the last time to air them."

I shook my head, as did everyone else at the table. We'd all been excited for the convention ever since we'd been invited to hold a two-night event, and I didn't think there was anything short of Armageddon itself that would keep us from being there.

"Good. I've reached out to Aunt Cici about our costumes, and she should be getting back to us next week to finalize fittings on everything."

"Cool!"

"Hell yeah!"

"Hmmm. Unless anyone has anything else they wanna talk about, I think that's probably it for tonight."

None of the rest of us seemed to have anything else to add, so like most Wednesday nights we said our goodbyes and headed out to our cars, another week's adventuring done.

-==-

NOTES:

So, here it is, the first chapter of my next work-in-progress book! I'll be posting these chapters here a week and a half after they appear on the BCTS Patreon, so if you want a leg up on seeing where the story is going, feel free to stop by there and give us a like, comment, or more!

All feedback is appreciated, and I hope you fall in love with these characters just like I have.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 2 - The Ride Home

It was half-way to my car that Brian grabbed my shoulder and stopped me.

"Hmm?" I asked, turning and looking up at him.

"Keys."

"What?"

"Gimme the keys."

I scoffed and tried to turn away, but his hand held me in place. "Why?"

Brian frowned. "Because you're still upset, and you scare the hell out of me when you drive upset."

"I'm not--"

"Hold out your hands."

"You can't just... ugh." Giving in, I held my hands up, fighting unsuccessfully to quell the tremor I knew they would hold.

"See?"

"*Fine.*"

I fished my keys out of my messenger bag and handed them over to Brian, getting a shoulder-pat in thanks.

"Next week we're taking separate cars."

"Next week it's my gas we're burning."

"Maybe the week after that then," I decided, pausing only a moment when we reached my car to circle around to the passenger side while Brian hit the beeper to unlock the doors.

I settled in to the seat, the sound of Brian cursing as he adjusted the driver's seat and wheel making me feel at least a little better about the whole thing. Our almost foot of height difference meant it was always a struggle whenever we tried to drive each others' vehicles, though at least my car had electric adjustments for everything: I had to keep wooden blocks behind the seat of his truck for the rare times I'd drive it just so I could reach the pedals.

"Y'know, this car."

"Don't start this again, man."

Brian chuckled. "I'm just sayin', a more manly car might help cut down on people thinking you're a girl."

"How do you figure that?" I asked him while he continued to fiddle with the seat and mirrors. "'S not like driving a Viper or something is gonna suddenly make me five inches taller or spontaneously sprout a porn 'stache."

"No, but..."

"But?"

"It's a yellow Fiat 500, Leigh. Most guys wouldn't be caught dead owning one of these."

"You borrow it all the time."

"Well, yeah, but it's not *mine.* And if anyone asks I tell 'em it's my girlfriend's."

"You wish!"

"I do, just not for you," he tossed back, seemingly happy with his adjustments at last. "We stopping for burgers or something on the way back?"

"Up to you, I'm not starving."

"Burgers it is," he said, firing up the engine then revving it a couple times before putting the car in gear, just like he always did.

Without asking I turned on the satellite radio to one of the stations playing pop music and leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes and just Thinking.

The convention.

It wasn't the first convention we'd ever attended, or even the first time we'd done a panel, but it was the biggest, and the most complex.

We'd all started the whole tabletop streaming thing about four years ago. I was having pretty decent luck with streaming myself talking about tabletop games and playing video games, so thought hey, why not see if my friends wanted to give it a shot too? At the time it had just been the six of us, but when we'd decided to give the streaming a shot we brought Jonah in, both as an extra party member and as our tech to manage cameras and editing.

For the first couple of years, that's all things had been. We were small-time, but developing enough of a following to slowly increase production values, adding lighting and music and better mics.

Then we got the sponsorship, and everything changed.

We'd been running Faelands since the beginning, because it was the system Maria and I liked the most. When American Tabletop Games, the company who made Faelands, reached out to us and asked if we wanted an official partnership, we didn't think twice before jumping at the opportunity. Apparently some of the folks at the company were fans of the show, and especially of Maria's worldbuilding and game mastering, and wanted to help make our show more visible to help advertise the system.

And make our show more visible it did. Our viewership tripled in the first month of the sponsorship, and had hardly slowed in the last two years, getting another massive boost last year when we started a new campaign in the most recent version of the system. ATG had been so impressed with our performance, and the revenue we'd brought to them, that they were even in talks with Maria about releasing an official campaign setting based on her world.

Even with all that, though, our fame and performance were relative. We were in the top 10 most popular tabletop gaming groups, for sure, but Faelands as a system still struggled to compete with some of the bigger names in the industry like Wayfinder and Temples and Trolls, and likewise our viewership numbers, while impressive, still looked like small fries compared to a group like Critical Hit or Geek Stuff.

That was why this convention was so important. It would be our first showcase in front of an audience, and we'd been booked to basically headline the convention for two nights in a row! Austin was a long way from our home town of Bayonet, Louisiana, but ATG saw this as a big opportunity for both them and us, and were paying our expenses to go.

Maria was in charge of all the game-related business for our group. Sydney managed our socials. Deidre kept on top of incoming and outgoing art and merchandising... but I was the one responsible for public relations for the Wednesday Knights as a whole. Was it any wonder my nerves were shot?

I would like to say that it wasn't because of Jonah... but yeah, it was because of Jonah.

The rest of us, we'd been playing together for years. Hell, I'd been gaming with Maria since we were in middle school. When I'd gone to college and met my roommate Brian, I'd immediately set to work baiting the trap to get him into a game with us, and he brought along Aaron, a friend of his from high school. Sydney and her then-roommate Deidre answered an open call for players, and our group was set. By the time we were seniors and I convinced the rest of the group to give the streaming deal a shot we'd all been playing together for about four years at that point, and were friends not only in-game but out of game as well.

From the first moment I met him Jonah was a bit surly, and more of a power gamer than the rest of us, but he was also very enthusiastic about the idea of working on the show, so we had all agreed to give him a shot. He had proven himself invaluable, managing the cameras during streams and handling edits afterward for posting to WooTube, and even if there were obvious differences in his play style from the rest of us, we'd felt sure that over time we'd all be able to work those differences out and find a way to play that worked for everyone.

For a while, it had worked. Maria adjusted her game to have a bit more mechanical focus and offer more challenging mechanical play for Jonah, but kept the strong focus on character play that the rest of us loved, and the world that responded to our actions like, well, like a believable place. Jonah didn't always like the restrictions he'd get on what he could do -- most often along the lines of us not letting him kill or brutalize NPCs we wanted to work with -- but he kept himself in check.

The bigger we got, though, and the more complex our production, the less that seemed to work for him. He was still technically head of our production staff, but we had a full-on tech team now, not just a couple cameras on tripods, and the more technical work was pulled out of his direct control the more control he seemed to want to enforce on the actual game. It wasn't long after we had started the current campaign that we'd been forced to decide as a group to more or less strip his title back to being a figurehead only position, due to too many times our WooTube edits had turned into The Jonah Show, cutting out character and story development aspects of the game if they weren't related to his character and being more combat clip shows than anything else.

Then I got pregnant.

It wasn't anything we'd planned, and the roleplay between me and Brian had been incredibly embarrassing for both of us. That said, it just... fit. Of all the party members they were the closest two in age, and a few lucky and unlucky rolls early on meant Burg proved his mettle protecting Lunea quickly. We'd had inter-party romances before -- heck, the last campaign had ended with Sydney and Deidre's characters getting married -- but the little romance plot between Lunea and Burg took on a mind of its own quicker than any of us anticipated, and after about five months of play we finally agreed during a drunk chat stream that our characters had, indeed, "done the deed" at some point, which naturally inspired Maria to pop the question about whether we wanted to roll to see just how lucky we'd been.

Never agree to making story-critical rolls while drunk.

We all regretted our decision the next morning, and even had a discussion about proclaiming the rolls non-canon... but we couldn't. The news was out, and it was everywhere, and despite being part of a silly drunk stream and not a regular gameplay stream, it got us trending harder than anything else before.

Unless we wanted to risk the wrath of hundreds of thousands of fans, new and old, Lunea was staying pregnant.

It had been a marketing bonanza since. Almost weekly Sydney fed into the buzz, with fake "baby updates" from her Dwarf barbarian's point of view. She prided herself on Sunny almost always coming top of the polls for character popularity, but was also having fun spurring on a friendly rivalry between Sunny and Lunea, using the baby as bait. Deidre had likewise used it as a jumping off point for a few community art competitions, that had returned a lot of artwork both adorable and disturbing, and even Aaron had been leveraging it during his fantasy sports streams, taking fantasy bets from viewers on what the baby would grow up to be.

Meanwhile, Brian had been playing the Proud Father to Be role to the hilt every stream, and me? I got to learn what it took to be a mommy.

Even sitting in the car, away from the actual game, I found myself unconsciously using the same arm gestures I'd adopted as Lunea, cradling the imaginary bump that held my child. With a roll of my eyes I forced myself to move my arms away from my belly and to my sides, hoping Brian hadn't noticed.

My baby had taken over marketing for our entire show, and everyone was all in on making the most of it... except for Jonah.

"If any character gets to fuck the half-breed it's John, he has the highest charisma."

Yes. He actually said that during a crew meeting.

As far as Jonah was concerned, the baby was a menace and a distraction. Even before my pregnancy he was annoyed at Maria's plot for the game, which focused around a political intrigue storyline built off my character being the heiress to a kingdom in peril, looking for allies to help re-take her throne. While the plot was there, the story really wasn't about my character, but about the people around her, our other players' characters, and how we all would work together to reach our goal, but he didn't want that. He was convinced that as the best player at the table -- his words -- he should be the center of the action, and the center of the story.

And things had deteriorated from there.

Things were at a point where I was sure the rest of us were on the same page. Jonah was burning his bridges in a spectacular fashion, and there was no way we could keep him in the group... but we didn't want to kick him, either. He'd been an important part of founding the show, and he had his own portion of the fanbase who loved his character and more technical play focus.

All of us were hoping he'd chill enough to at least make it to the end of the campaign. Personally, I just hoped he could manage until after the convention.

Just two and a half more weeks. Inevitably another crisis and stress-storm would come after, but for now, just make it past the convention.

Please.

My musings were interrupted by the smell of food, and I opened my eyes just in time for Brian to drop a warm bag in my lap.

"Junior burger?"

"And onion rings," he confirmed, handing me a coke as well.

"Mmmmm."

"Hey, gotta take care of my baby mama, right?"

"Fuck off."

"Love you too."

-==-

NOTES:

Chapter 2! Woo!

Apologies for the late arrival of chapter 3 on Patreon: we're adjusting things so Wednesday Knights, appropriately, arrives on Wednesday in both locations :)

If you like this chapter, and don't want to wait a week to check the next one, well, it's over on the BCTS Patreon! In addition to Wednesday Knights, there's all kinds of other great tales there, both free (like mine!) and even more if you want to drop a buck or two in the site coffers!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 3 - Fans

"Damnit!"

I tapped furiously at the respawn key, even though I knew it wouldn't get me up any faster than if I just waited for the timer to run down. It was better than doing nothing.

"Hey, Ollie! I got flattened. Can you get Marill over to cover aggro while I respawn and try to get back?"

"Sure thing, Sprite," a scratchy voice responded back. "I saw you get hit by that hammer. Pretty brutal."

"Rrrgh." The meter finally filled, letting me re-spawn back at our base camp, but it would be a solid couple of minutes for me to make it back through the dungeon to the raid boss. "I hate this game."

"And yet you've got, what was it, twelve hundred hours logged on stream?"

"Yeah, well, I hate it, but the viewers love it," I countered, hitting the command to activate my wings in the hopes the boost from my hover speed would get me back in the action that little bit faster. Since I had the time anyway, I went ahead and checked on some of the live chat from said viewers. "LittleEvie, thanks for the resub! AlabasterSkye, thanks for three months! And KidClean, thanks for the bits!"

I read a bit more in chat as I made the mindless trek back and frowned.

"Folks, I've already told you, I don't wanna talk about Wednesday's game tonight, so can we drop it?"

More chat, confirming they very much would not.

"Come on guys, anything else we can talk about?"

"How about water?"

"Hmm? Oh, hey Brian. Chat, say hi to Brian! What's up?" I asked, turning around in my chair but keeping one hand on the keyboard to keep my character running the right way.

Brian handed me a bottle of water, then winked at the camera. "Just making sure you stay hydrated." That got the normal and expected flood of heart and swoon emojis from my chat.

"Thanks!" I said, uncapping the bottle and taking a long, greedy sip. "He's right, folks. Hydrate up before we get back to the action. Speaking of which..."

I turned back to my computer and set the water bottle down on the coaster next to my keyboard. Far enough away it was out of camera shot, but close enough I could grab it again when I had a chance.

"Hey Sprite, get yer ass up here. I'm down to my last Rush stack and need to trade out for a bit!"

"On my way!" I called in, hitting the key combo that would activate my character's shields and taking my place at the front of the pack.

I watched my cooldowns closely, making sure to re-up my shields first chance I got. Pixies didn't make the best tanks, but of the three classes introduced in the new Heimdall Online expansion, the Valkyrie was the only one that had really piqued my interest, so there I was, my avatar giving her all as she bashed back at the massive ogre with her own diminutive sword. I couldn't take a hit as well as someone playing a Hill Giant or an elemental, but if I played right, I could leverage my speed and maneuverability to my advantage, keeping aggro on myself while actually tanking through as few connecting hits as possible.

It took us another eight minutes to finally take down the ogre, and I wasn't the only member of the party sweating their ass off as the victory music chimed and the loot shower played on screen, a fountain of blues, greens, and the occasional but much lusted-after gold or pink.

"All right folks, that's raid five for today, and I think that's all I've got in me."

"Yeah, me too," Ollie said, sounding just as tired. "We doing the next round of raids on Monday?"

"I... yeah, I guess," I said, seeing the enthusiasm in the chat and not having the heart to disappoint them. "I think I need something light to cool me down, though. Folks, say good night to Ollie, Marill, and TimSkittles, and why don't we hop over to, I dunno, some Bridge Too Fall?"

The chat seemed to be enthusiastic enough about that, as they generally were, and Bridge Too Fall was casual enough that it'd give me a chance to ease my heart rate down before the end of the stream and keep up a bit more chat engagement too.

"Let's call a ten-minute break while I get things set up. Grab a snack, grab a drink, and stretch a bit, and we'll be right back!"

I turned on the intermission screen and music, closed out of HE, and took a minute to just lean back and breathe.

"A'ight, Leigh. You got another hour on your schedule, then you're free."

I usually enjoyed my gaming streams, chatting with folks and getting in some time playing my favorite games, but with everything else going on it was one of those rare nights that it was really feeling more like a job than a passion.

Once again, I reminded myself that we just had to make it through the convention and things would calm down a bit. I normally streamed my own content every Saturday and Monday, but I'd already let my stream know I'd be absent the weekend and week after the convention. In fact, all of us were taking the week after off, planning re-runs of the convention sessions for that Wednesday and Friday night so we could all take what I felt was a much deserved vacation.

"Blargh," I said to myself and rolled my neck, then took another slug of water from the bottle Brian had brought me before launching Bridge Too Fall and getting my costume sorted.

One last breath and I dropped the intermission card and eased audio back over to my mic.

"All right, everybody, FireSprite here, and we're back, with a bit of Bridge Too Fall! Let's see, last time I was... oh yeah, I was tackling some of the time trial challenges. How about we continue those, and I can do a bit of chat Q and A while we're going along?"

I picked up my controller and leaned back.

"QuirkyOtter, thanks for the sub and congrats on two years as a Firestarter! Blaze360, welcome to the group too. First question: PleasantPixel asks..." I sighed. "How long have Brian and I been dating? Folks, we're still not dating. We're just roommates."

I hissed, almost missing a jump from a spinning log, but caught the next platform just in time.

"Elderbarry asks, 'what is this con people are chatting about?' Good question, Barry: most of the Wednesday Knights crew is going to be attending LSGC, that's, the Lone Star Gaming Convention, in Austin next month. We've been asked to do a couple special gaming sessions in front of a live audience, and we're all really excited for it! If you want more info, there should be a... yeah, just type hashtag LSGC in chat, and it will give you links to get tickets, but even if you can't make it, we'll be streaming the events on the Wednesday Knights channel the week after while we all take a break. And remember, folks, I won't be streaming here for that week either: all of us are taking a bit of a vacation."

I paused my commentary and grinned as I watched the support rolling in from folks excited for the convention.

"Ice-- damnit! Welp, gotta start this one over, folks. IcicleMoon asks...." I gave the camera a long look. "You and Brian are so cute together, and Lunea and Burg make such a great couple. I, thanks, I guess, but that's not a question? Seriously, folks, there's nothing between Brian and me."

As expected that got the normal smattering of clown and thinking emojis.

"Really. I'm gonna put a moratorium on questions about me and Brian, even donation-boosted ones. Ask me something else. Oh, here's a good one: ToadSux asks, 'Hey Sprite, don't you feel bad about promoting a convention in a state that's, I'm not gonna finish the question because of the language, but I will answer it. Yeah, we thought long and hard about whether we wanted to go, because we had the same reservations about things. If it makes you feel better, we've all agreed to donate the fees the convention offered to pay us to two separate organizations there in Austin, one for LGBT support and the other to help women get life-saving medical help they need, and we're gonna have a lot of our Rainbow Knights merch at the event too, with the profits from those going to the same charities."

I whooped and pumped my fist as I finished the next level. My time was hardly top of the leaderboards, but my friends list showed I'd beaten Aaron's time, so I could at least rub that in his face.

"Oh, hey, congrats WigglyWoo, on getting the gift sub; thanks for that Toad. Hope you stick around; the firestarters have fun, don't we folks? Let's see, here's, nope, not that again, how about, all right. TwoBucketLimit asks -- ooh, Weasel gets the new top donation spot for the month, nice! Thanks, Weasel! Aaah, yeah, TwoBucketLimit asked why I don't do stuff like hot tub streams or anything, since... why is this a promoted question? A couple answers here. One, hot tub streams are stupid. Two, I've not got anything worth showing off, I mean." I sat my controller down on the desk and stood up, turning around so the camera could get a good shot. "Hardly one of the Masters of the Universe, right?"

I rolled my eyes as the pancake stack emojis rolled in.

"Come on, I've... folks? I'm flat up top, I'm... why do I bother?"

I played another few challenge stages and finished up my hour, but kept the rest of my chat interaction to mostly inane responses.

"Thanks again for joining the stream folks, I'm gonna send y'all on a raid of Duckwalker's stream, she's doing some neat stuff in DinoFighter right now, so be sure to give her as much love as you give me! This is FireSprite, signing off!"

Ten minutes later I collapsed on the couch in our sitting room, a fresh bottle of water in my hand.

"Good stream?" Brian asked me, sparing me only a moment's glance before turning his attention back to the demon he was trying to turn into mincemeat on the TV.

"Same old, same old," I complained, slouching further down. "Hype for the convention, folks wanting to spend the entire stream talking about the last Knights session and last night's recap stream. Questions about you."

"They still think we're a couple?"

I huffed in answer.

"I've given up on reminding them I'm a guy. The new members don't buy it, and the older ones who should know better keep acting like it's a running joke or something."

"Your streamer tag is FireSprite and your channel icon is a fairy with flaming wings."

"It's not a fairy, it's a sprite! Like the name. And it's clearly a boy."

"It's wearing pasties and a bikini bottom."

"The pasties are only because he got flagged as pornographic without them."

Brian gave me a Look.

"Don't even--"

"Pizza for dinner?"

"...Fine."

"Cool, there's a couple frozen ones in the top of the fridge."

"I...you...."

I glared at Brian, but all I got was a mirth-filled smirk in response.

"Fine, but you'll have to come get your own when they're done."

"Some girlfriend you are."

"Pssht."

By the time the oven was pre-heated, and the pizzas were in, a lot of my head of steam had boiled off, so I once again settled down on the couch to watch Brian play some more, this time with a wine cooler in place of water.

"Hey, you didn't-- thanks," he said, taking the beer I'd brought him and toasting me with it before going back to his game, giving me my space.

I watched him play and just basked in the companionable calm.

It always baffled me how Brian took the constant rumors and speculation about our relationship in stride, but then again, Brian took most things in stride.

I'd been nervous about who my roomie would be when I'd first headed off to college, but it had taken all of five minutes for me to feel comfortable around him. Yes, he was tall and good-looking in a sort of angular way, and all these things I wasn't, but we'd bonded over the one passion almost every young adult in the world seemed to share anymore: video games. Before two hours had passed, we'd bunked our beds and turned half our dorm into as much of a gaming nest as we could manage, and for the rest of the year, we'd been *the* gaming hot-spot on our floor.

When it came time to prep for the next year, we made sure we were rooming together and did the same thing. Then we decided to share an off-campus apartment, giving me room to start streaming on my own. When graduation rolled around we had the group stream, and we were still getting along great, so when Brian asked if I wanted to get another apartment with him closer to his work I'd happily accepted.

Throughout all of it Brian had always been Brian. Cool-headed, easily amused, and just about the most likeable guy I'd ever met, while I'd been... me, the short boy with the big, angled eyes that always got me comments about being Asian even though, as far as I was aware my mom was French Creole and my dad was full-blooded Black Irish.

I blamed my eyes for why so many folks mistook me for a girl. I was a bit on the short side, but not THAT short, and yeah, I'd always been pretty skinny -- I tended to forget to eat if I didn't have someone around to remind me -- but I kept my hair short, usually in a fauxhawk style that was easy to manage, and the only time I wore makeup was for cosplay.

The ding told me it was time to pull the pizzas out, so I made one last check of Brian's game progress before getting up and heading that way; the hot grease and meat smells reminding me I hadn't eaten anything since the live chat stream recap the night before. Pizza then, too, funnily enough.

Pans up on the stovetop. Slice slice. I grabbed a plate from the cabinet and two slices of pie for myself, then after a short pause, grabbed another plate and two more slices, carefully balancing the dishes on one arm as I made my way back to the living room.

Brian looked up when I entered and, on seeing the two plates, gave me another grin. "I could kiss you, you know."

"Ugh, don't. That's the last thing the rumor mill needs."

"So you're sayin' to wait 'til next time we need to trend, then do it on camera."

"I'll kill you," I said, handing him his plate of pizza.

"Well, that'd probably get us trending too."

Okay, that got a laugh out of me and helped to calm the last of my post-stream jitters.

With my meal in hand, I curled back up on my corner of the couch and went back to watching Brian eat and play.

-==-

NOTES:

Chapter 3, on time! Around this time chapter 4 is going up on the Patreon as well, so if you liked this and wanna get ahead a bit, check it out! It's part of the free tier, so anyone can read it, and you might find a story or two that's new to you while you're over there!

All comments appreciated. :)

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 4 - Plans and Alterations

I basked in the feel of the icy air coming out of the vent over my head, grateful to whoever had arrived early and turned the temperature controls in the studio to something between "arctic circle" and "absolute zero," even as I dreaded seeing what it would do to the electric bill at the end of the month.

Streaming? Fun. Playing games with friends? Fun. Being self-employed? Stressful, but usually pretty cool. The costs *involved* with all those things? Gutwrenching.

Also, whoever decided that the majority of commercial buildings in the American South should be giant poorly-insulated metal boxes with piss-poor ventilation, insulation, and HVAC needed shot.

"A'ight, Leigh, out of the freezer and back to the rest of us," Sydney giggled, grabbing me and dragging me back toward the table.

"Do I hafta?"

"Yep! We gotta get these costumes sorted before the game, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah," I complained, but winked at Sydney so she'd know I was only joking.

I was half-excited for the costume discussion and half-not. Why only half? Well, that should be obvious. Me? Leigh. Man. My character? Lunea. Woman. My already questionable masculinity? Nowhere to be found in costume-land.

On the OTHER hand, there was something about cosplay I always enjoyed. Getting to transform yourself into someone else, seeing the awe on other peoples' faces when they see a character they know and love standing big as life in front of them, it was always a blast. And, who was I kidding, I was the one who chose to play a female character, so I kind of wrote my own death sentence there.

I took my seat at the table and looked around, taking stock. There was our usual spread of water bottles and low-crunch, stream-friendly snacks, as well as our various piles of books and paperwork. Most of that was for show since we did most of our actual character management on the Faelands app on our tablets, but they were still nice to have, especially for the homebrew information we needed for Maria's campaign. Instead of the mood music, we would have at game time, the overhead speakers were playing some soft jazz like they usually did whenever the studio was occupied but not filming.

Maria was at her seat, head of the table as was proper for a game master. She already had her books set out and a covered table behind her, likely with miniatures and maps for the game later. I flinched just thinking about the metal ruler she'd smacked me with the one and only time I'd ever tried to sneak a look underneath. I didn't see it around anywhere, but I'd seen her bust it out often enough to know it was always present lest someone get too handsy. Tonight there was another small table to the side with some sweet jasmine incense smoldering away in it, filling the room with the flowery fragrance and reminding me I needed to pick up some incense for at home.

Aaron sat around the corner of the table, to Maria's left and my right. He looked and smelled like he'd just stepped out of the shower and thrown on the first thing he could find, which he probably had: how the hell he could spend every afternoon playing basketball with kids at the youth center and still come in ready for three plus hours of tabletop I had no earthly idea, but then again, it was Aaron. Even with the stream's success, he seemed the most determined of all of us to put his degree to work, and I knew a lot of the income he made off Wednesday Knights went into trying to make life better for some of the worse-off kids he worked with.

On my left was Brian, of course, munching on his ritual pre-game taco. I could smell the double-dose of jalapenos from where I sat. At my disapproving grimace, he rolled his eyes and took some paper napkins out of the bag, laying them on the table and tucking one into the neck of his tee shirt. It seemed my complaints about sauce drips on materials and on his clothes on camera were finally hitting home. He then reached into the bag and pulled out a second taco and a handful of napkins and offered them to me. I tried to wave them off, only for him to shake his head and set them in front of me anyway with a pointed look.

At the end of the table, opposite Maria and where we'd normally have a tripod and camera, sat a figure that looked like a version of Maria that had heard of BoHo and adopted it as a religion. It was, of course, Carmen, "Aunt Cici," there to talk to us about costumes. She gave me one of her brilliant smiles, and I couldn't help but smile back: Maria and I had spent a lot of summers and weekends in high school at Carmen's studio, watching her work on historic recreations and other projects, and we'd always gotten along great.

Next seat down, across from Brian, sat Sydney. Bright eyes, her dark red hair pulled back in a scrunchie and her figure shown off by the yoga top and pants she'd worn in. Unlike Aaron, Sydney liked to get her exercise in right before stream, topping up with a couple of laps around the building "for the glow" whenever it was possible. It was a good look for her and seemed to contribute to her popularity with the male just-over-half of our viewership, as she was always more than ready to brag about. She was less glow-y than normal for the moment, likely to avoid a chewing out like she'd gotten last time we'd done a costume session, since Carmen hated sweaty fittings.

The next chair was empty. Jonah had always insisted on doing his own costumes, or more accurately costume, since the only thing he'd changed from our last campaign to this one was dropping the crappy-looking horns he wore as his demonkynd. Other than that, it was the same long black leather coat, the same fingerless gloves, the same black pants and combat boots, and a white poet's shirt he'd started wearing after we convinced him that, no, his character probably didn't own a Megadeth tee shirt. He'd inevitably walk in twenty minutes before the session, as per usual, now that he didn't have to set the cameras up or prep the streaming software.

Finally, in the last seat and to Maria's right, Deidre. Sketchbook in hand, looking down her nose through her glasses at what I was sure were page after page of sketches she'd been working on and sending back and forth with Carmen. She was always the most hands-on of us in terms of designing her own costumes, almost always with some neat touch from a culture the rest of us weren't familiar with. She'd shaved her head again, showing off the little sprig of flowers she'd had tattooed over her right temple, and whatever she was looking at it had her smiling.

I was just about to give in and reach for Brian's bait taco when Maria clapped her hands once. Like the trained puppets we all were, we went silent and turned to face her. Before we'd started streaming she'd always used that clap to signal the start of the session, and even now, it was an effective tool to get us in Serious Mode for meetings.

With all eyes on her, Maria tossed her dark curls and smiled. "All right! Looks like everyone's here," she said, giving Jonah's empty seat barely a glance. "Everyone said hi to Aunt Cici?"

Nods all around the table.

"Good. First thing on the agenda, Sydney, how're the socials looking?"

"Looking good, Boss," Sydney said, glancing down at her tablet and swiping a couple times before looking back up. "The kerfuffle at the end of last session caused a little stir, but I think me and Aaron got it calmed down during the live chat replay on Friday," she said, giving Aaron a big thumbs-up. The live-chat replay was the re-stream we'd do of Wednesday's game every Friday, with two of us and a special guest there to talk about their impressions of the game in real time. "There's a lot of excited chat about the upcoming con and the expected complaints about our plans to take the week after off, but for the most part, things are peachy keen."

"Glad to hear it!" Maria said happily. "And speaking of the con, ATG called me this morning and asked me if I thought everyone would be down for a bit of a publicity deal before hand. Anyone have big plans for the Thursday before con?"

"Nothing I can't re-organize."

"Not really?"

"A pick-up game, but I can be replaced."

Maria nodded. "That's great news, 'cause they're offering us a ride on the Golden Goose." Maria gave us all a moment to absorb that, before adding the kicker. "They want to give us the overnight experience on it, so we'll be heading down to Cypremort Point that morning for the launch at 10."

"Sweet!" Sydney crowed. "Riverboat gambling!"

Maria laughed. "Sure, but there's a catch. They're gonna send a film crew of their own with us, and they want us to do the whole tour in character."

That raised a few eyebrows.

"Umm, why?" Brian asked, sending a blast of jalapeno breath across the table.

"Apparently, they want to use it for some ad material on their site? I didn't ask a lot of questions, to be honest." She looked to the end of the table. "It might mean we need an extra set of cosplay outfits."

Carmen chuckled. "I can revive some of your older costumes. I'll figure it out once I update everyone's measurements. And I was already making a spare for Leigh, so we're good."

Pause.

"Why were you already making a spare for me?" I asked, feeling a chill run down my back as I gave Carmen a worried look.

All she did was grin back, which did nothing to set me at ease.

"Sounds good to me. I've already told 'em that Jonah probably wouldn't join us, but does everyone think they can make that?"

"Yeah."

"Sure thing."

"We'll be there."

"All right. Let's see... they also let me know the prep for the stage show is on schedule. I'm still nervous about not getting to play around with things before we get there, but they assured me it'll all work," Maria said, a bit less confidence in her tone than I was used to hearing. She had some big surprises planned for the live show, and I understood her worry one hundred percent.

"It'll be great, Boss. We'll make sure of it."

"And we'll look damn good doing it."

"You got this."

Maria nodded. "Thanks guys. I think that's it for what I needed to chat with folks about. Anything anyone else needs to bring up?" After the quick chorus of 'no's and head-shakes she nodded to the end of the table. "In that case, Aunt Cici?"

"Ay!" Cici said, standing up and clapping in much the same way Maria had to start the meeting. "Who's ready to get touched in all the bad places first?"

"Cici!"

"What?" Cici grinned and pulled out her measuring tape. "Brian, sweetie, you first. Come here."

We spent the next half an hour hanging out and chatting while Cici would occasionally pull one of us aside to measure and talk. As usual, she took care of Brian and Aaron first, both of their measurements and discussions going pretty quickly. Next was Sydney, who took a bit longer, but had a huge grin when she came back. Normally she would call me next and Deidre last, with the two of them spending the longest time discussing what she would do, so it surprised me when she called Deidre instead of me.

"Eat your taco and stop worrying," Brian said, nudging me gently with his elbow.

"I'm not worried," I sneered, but picked up the taco to give my hands something to do anyway, giving it a careful examination.

Brian huffed. "No jalapenos, ya baby. And extra cheese sauce. You'd know that if you'd been listening when I ordered."

"Nice," I agreed, taking a happy bite. "I was distracted."

"You were rubbing your legs together like you needed to pee," he said, chuckling.

"Like I said, distracted," I countered, blushing.

"I'm tellin' ya, you might as well just keep 'em shaved. You know she's gonna want you to every time we do one of these things."

"Yeah, well... shut up," I said, taking another bite of my taco to ensure I did the same.

I was just shoveling the last bite of taco in when Deidre trotted over.

"Your turn, shortie."

I made sure my hands were clear of any taco gunk, then headed to the back corner myself, where the grinning Carmen awaited me.

"Ah, mijo, I see you remembered this time," she said, giving my legs a once-over then pulling me in for a hug. "And your hair! I wish you wouldn't hurt it so," she frowned, tsk-ing as she looked at the close-cropped sides of my head. "It's so pretty when you let it grow out."

"Yeah, well," I started, but couldn't think of anything to say. I was pretty sure that if I ever gave in and grew my hair out like Carmen wanted she wouldn't let me stop 'til it reached my ass. "So what torture do you have for me this time?"

Carmen gave me a puzzled look. "Torture? I make you beautiful, and you call it torture? Pfft." She turned her back on me and began digging through a bag she'd brought. "Just for that, you get to put this on without me explaining it first."

"Put what-- what the hell is that, Aunt Cici."

"Nope!" She said, shaking her head as she pressed the bundle of folded cream-colored material into my hands. "Go put it on like a good girl so I can see."

"But—"

"Nah ah! Go!" She said, swatting my butt and pointing toward the restrooms.

I gulped but headed off. Maria's ruler didn't scare me half as badly as an angry Aunt Cici. I'd been 'accidentally' stabbed by one too many pins during a fitting to not have a healthy fear of the woman.

I didn't unwrap the bundle until I was secured away in the little bathroom at the back of the studio. When I did, I was left even more confused. I was used to Carmen handing me weird clothing items to wear as part of my costumes, things like tight shorts with hip pads in them, but this was... a fat suit? It looked like a women's one-piece half my size, with snaps in the crotch and… was that the front or the back? There was a large, rounded area of padding sewn into one side, and...

Oh no.

I glanced at the door, but remembering pins past, I winced.

With a sigh I stripped off my shorts and tee and studied the item. I'd expected some kind of something from Carmen, so wore what she called "appropriate" underwear, some men's bikinis, just to be on the safe side. After some consideration, I went ahead and snapped up the crotch and stepped into the legs of the too-small suit, double-checking one last time I had it the right way around before pulling it up.

"Oof."

I tried again. This time I got the garment up and around my thighs. Another tug, and it was up on my hips, and I could finally pull the straps up and over my arms.

A look in the mirror confirmed what I'd feared, but I took the time to smooth things out and push them around a bit before I let myself really bask in the horror.

The garment was tight, very much so, and nipped my sides in nicely, with the fit of the lower part keeping me flat in front but lifting my butt in back, with some of my nipped waist seemingly pushed down to fill out my cheeks in a way I was sure they didn't normally look. The back of the garment came up to just under my shoulder blades, splitting into wide straps that came over my shoulders and, rather than joining together like a tank top over my chest, then wrapped down and to the sides, then up and under, with a small bit of wire reinforcing the scalloped shape at the top. Knowing what Carmen would expect, I did a little more kanoodling with my flesh, and yep: the shapes pushed up by the compression of the rest of the garment and the formed wire across my ribs gave the impression of breasts.

It was what lay underneath the breasts that made me gulp in fear.

I should have known.

While my stomach and sides were compressed, my figure was filled out in a long, smooth curve of padding from just below the wire at my ribs down to my crotch. The padding curved out a bit at my hips, and turning sideways, the overall result was undeniable.

There, standing in the mirror, was a very pregnant looking Me. And judging by the color of my face, the morning sickness was about to strike yet again.

-==-

NOTES:

Chapter 4! Chapter 5 is also now available over on the Patreon for folks who don't want to wait!

As always, comments and likes are appreciated.

Melanie E.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 5 - Proud Mama

"No way in hell!"

"But mija, you look so cute! Oh, wait," Carmen said, reaching back into the same bag that had held the torture device I already wore and pulling out another, smaller bundle of cloth. "Go put this on too."

I took the object she handed to me, then groaned. "Aunt Cici!"

"Now now," she said, stepping forward and wrapping me in a hug. "Trust me, okay?"

"But..." I looked at the bra in my hand. "Ugh."

I didn't say another word as I returned to the restroom, stripped my tee off again, and put the bra on over everything else, already feeling the heat of the multiple layers building. The bra was lightly padded, and combined with the re-arranging done by the pregnancy suit made for a very noticeable amount of boobage, especially on my slight frame. I frowned, but slipped my tee shirt back on and stepped out the door.

"Ah, much better. You make a beautiful mama."

"I'm gonna have the worst swamp ass imagineable with all this stuff on," I complained, doing my best to sound as non-"mama" as possible. "And I can already feel this thing pressing on my bladder. I'm gonna be up every twenty minutes having to pee."

Carmen chuckled. "Welcome to motherhood, mija. It's all part of the package."

"Maria!" I called out across the table to my long-time friend. "Tell your crazy aunt I can't wear this to the con!"

"Why?" Maria asked, grinning back.

"What?!"

Sydney came up and hugged me, raising my temp even more. "Come on, Leigh. Even in your street clothes you look cute! I'm sure Carmen's got some fantastic costumes to go with this, right?"

"Oh, yes! Fantasy maternity wear is a bit of an unexplored field, you know," Carmen said, her eyes shining with excitement. "I've got all these ideas, far too many to fit in for the convention."

"Brian?" I asked, once again looking for support. Instead, I found my roommate giving me an odd look.

"Hmm?"

I sighed. "Brian, tell them how stupid this is."

It seemed to take a moment for his eyes to focus, shifting from my faux pregnancy to my face. "Uh, I actually think it's a good idea."

I'm sure if I'd had any scrap of psychic or magical power in real life the look I gave him would have set him ablaze, but instead it just seemed to make him chuckle.

"Now, Leigh," Carmen said, stepping forward and taking my arm. "Come here and let me get some measurements, would you? I think I know what the results will be already, but always double check, yes?"

"Rgh. Fine. Then I can take all this off, right?"

"Ehhhhh..."

"Cici...."

Cici gave me an apologetic look even as she started taking my measurements. "It needs some, ah, stress testing. I would at least like you to wear it for the game tonight."

"For the game!"

"Well, yes. It's--"

Cici's explanation was cut off by the sound of the studio's front door slamming open. If that weren't enough of a clue, the loud "What the fuck!" as he saw me standing there, be-boobed and be-babied, signalled Jonah's arrival.

"Oh, good, you made it," Maria said brightly. "Carmen's just finishing some measurements, and--"

"The fuck is he wearing?"

"Young man, language!"

Jonah ignored Carmen as he walked up and poked me in the belly.

"Hey!" I recoiled, instinctively wrapping my arms over my new bump protectively.

Jonah laughed cruelly as he looked around the group. "What, acting like a slut in game wasn't enough, you needed to take it to the next level?"

"Jonah!"

Jonah turned to me again, a much darker look in his eyes.

Was he going to?

"Hey."

I watched as two hands landed on his shoulders, Brian appearing on one side and Aaron on the other.

"Hey, man, back off. It's for the cosplay stuff," Aaron said, giving me a concerned look. "You okay Leigh?"

I continued to guard my belly as I backed up, Carmen and Sydney rushing to my sides. Deidre and Maria were in my peripheral vision, talking to some of the film crew who had arrived and watching us warily.

"Leigh?" Aaron asked again, and I saw his fingers tighten on Jonah's shoulder.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I finally said, my voice cracking a bit. "We're fine. Right?" I asked, looking pointedly into Jonah's eyes, still smoldering with anger... but at what?

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Yeah, sure. Fine." He seemed to shrink in on himself a bit, and Aaron and Brian backed up, giving him some space. "I'm gonna go catch a last smoke," he said, turning his back on me and walking back toward the door.

I watched him until he was out the door, only for my vision to then be filled by a tall masculine form. I looked up, into Brian's concerned eyes. "Brian?"

I wasn't expecting the hug, but felt some of the tension drain out of me as he pulled me in.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"I... no, just poked me."

"Good."

Brian held me for a moment longer, perhaps a moment too long, then let go and backed away, shuffling awkwardly. "I'm--"

"I need to get the last few measurements," Carmen said, cutting him off.

"Ah, yeah. Right." Brian gave me one last Look then headed back to his seat, joining the rest of our group who all looked just as nervous.

Carmen pulled me aside and gave me a follow-up hug of her own. "Oh, mija, I'm so sorry. I'll get my measurements and you can change back, and--"

"No."

Carmen paused. "No?"

I shook my head, feeling an entirely different heat rise in me than earlier. "You want a stress test? You got one. As long as it takes."

"I... okay," Carmen said, smiling and sqeezing my shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

I smiled back.

The whole situation was out of control, and no, I didn't want to wear any of this stuff.

But I'd be damned if I'd let Jonah intimidate me.

I rubbed my belly where he'd poked me, and thought, and plotted. I was well padded, sure, but he'd poked me hard enough I had a sore spot underneath everything. Who does that?

He wanted to be pissed at me for Lunea being pregnant? That was fine. I'd give him something to be pissed over.

-==-

NOTES:

A bit shorter chapter this time, but if you're looking for more to read, then don't forget to hop over to the BCTS Patreon, where Chapter 6 is already available, free to read for anyone who stops by!

Spoilers: chapter 6 contains stuffies.

Whether you hop over to check out chapter 6 or not, feel free to leave comments and likes! I always appreciate them, and have been trying to be better about responding too.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 6 -- Baby Games

"They have a what?!" Jonah asked, seeming on the verge of a fit.

"A baby store," Maria said calmly, trying -- and almost successfully -- to keep the evil glee from showing on her face. "Right next to the magic shop."

"Excellent!" I crowed, bouncing happily in my seat. "I want to go in and take a look around."

I watched the purple tone rising in Jonah's face, and, just for a moment, worried I was pushing things too far.

Only for a moment, though.

Jonah's smoke break had given me just enough time to chat with Maria, and with her permission, I had enacted a plan. Well, okay, not much of a plan, per se, but more an act of vengeance.

It had started even before the game began, with me mimicking more morning sickness as soon as we heard Jonah re-enter the building, and from that moment, I had stayed in character as much as possible, but with a twist. I'd done my best in the past to show Lunea handling her pregnancy, even show her being both apprehensive and excited for her coming child, but I'd never been terribly enthused about it myself. It was a good roleplay exercise, and a fun character arc, but nothing more.

Not so anymore.

I'm not normally a particularly vindictive person. I'd let a lot of bullying slide over the years, and even on my streams, I tended to let people go further with jokes than I should, so long as they were at my expense. Hell, I'd been letting them have their fun with the running joke that I was really a girl for years.

But this was different. It was anger at me, but it also wasn't. There was anger at my baby. Yeah, the baby wasn't real, but that still rubbed me the wrong way. Who blames a baby? Who *hates* a baby? Who pokes even a fake baby bump as hard as they can?

Someone who deserves twenty minutes of me roleplaying a shopping trip through fantasy OshKosh B'gosh, that's who.

"Ah! Look at this!" I squealed, pretending to hold up a small piece of clothing -- maybe a onesie or a gown -- for Sunny to check out. "Isn't that cute?"

"It sure is! Not as cute as this, though!" She held up her hands like there was a small box in them. "Baby's first battleaxe!"

I dropped my own fake prop and frowned. "My baby isn't going to be a barbarian, Sunny."

Sunny cocked her head and frowned. "Why not? Barbarians are great!"

"I mean, sure," I said, with all the false sincerity I could muster. "But she -- or he -- is going to be royalty. They need to be refined. Genteel."

"Potty trained," Dahlia added, convincingly faking sifting through a pile of goods of her own.

"Hey!" Sunny gave Dahlia a hurt glare, then turned it on me. "I'm totally refined and genteel and all that."

"Sunny, last time a barmaid brought you the wrong drink, you threatened to behead her."

"See? Exactly like royalty."

"That's...." I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "No, Sunny. No battleaxes."

"Ugh. Fine." She rolled her eyes. "Next thing you'll be telling me is you won't let them have the traditional feral wolf pup to grow up with."

"No!"

"Umm..."

"*NO,*" I re-iterated, giving Burg a pointed look. "No wolf pups. No battleaxes." I said, picking up the outfit I'd dropped and shaking it at them. "Cute and refined. Like me."

"So, a spoilt, obnoxious little snot," Sunny sneered, not looking at me.

"Point," Dahlia once again added, still not giving us so much as a glance.

"I'm not obnoxious," I pouted, then turned to Maria. "Am I obnoxious?"

"No comment," she said without missing a beat. "Is there anything, in particular, you're looking for while you're here?"

I thought for a moment. "Not really. It's still a few months before I'm due, and I don't want us to have to carry around a lot of things we don't need right now."

"Then what was the point of all this?" Jonah asked. leaning back with his eyes closed.

"Because it's fun?"

"It's SO much fun!"

"Laugh a minute."

"AGH!"

"I think this is as good a time as any for a break," Maria said, no longer even trying to hide her amused smile as she turned to the camera at the end of the table. "We'll be back in about twenty minutes folks. In the meantime, we've got some excellent fan art for you to check out, and a few sponsors who we're sure would love your consideration. See you back here then!"

I waited for the lighting change that would signal we were officially in break mode, then breathed a heavy sigh. "Ugh. Gotta pee, gotta pee."

"Again? Sure you aren't really pregnant?" Brian asked, grinning as I stood and groaned.

"Ha. It's the baby belly; it presses down on stuff."

"I'm sure it does," he said, patting my belly gently when I moved past him. Sydney saw and gave me a funny look that I ignored as I made my way as quickly as possible toward the restroom, worried I'd already waited too long. The only person in more of a hurry to get out of the room than me was Jonah, who was already out the door by the time I made it to the bathroom.

Brian wasn't wrong. I'd had to slip away from the table halfway through the two hours we'd already played and was carefully considering my fluid intake for the rest of the night, and what chaos this would spell for our live show if I wasn't careful.

Okay, so maybe there'd been a point to Carmen wanting a test run on everything.

Speaking of Carmen, she was waiting for me when I stepped back out into the main studio.

"So? How is the bodysuit holding up?" She asked me, clasping her hands nervously.

"Good, I guess," I told her honestly. "I thought it'd make me sweaty, but it's not been as bad as I expected."

She nodded. "Bien. It should breathe well. I tried to make it so that you could wear it for long periods without it becoming too uncomfortable."

"The wire at the top digs a bit, though," I told her, checking around to make sure nobody else was watching to reach up and adjust said wire a bit.

"Hah! Yes, well, some sacrifices for beauty. And it helps your breasts look much better."

"I don't have..." I stopped myself. "It's all just padding and trickery."

"When isn't it?" Carmen asked me in a conspiratorial tone.

"True?" I ventured, which seemed to be the right answer since it got me a hug.

"Oh, you make a beautiful mama. Maybe..." she began, then caught herself and shook her head. "I'm sorry. Go back to your game, and we will talk after."

I smiled at her, then made my way back toward the table, checking in with a couple of our techs on the way to make sure everything was going well. With their assurances, I settled back into my seat and grinned at Maria.

"So, think he's had enough?" I asked her.

Maria twisted up her face in thought for a moment, then nodded. "Probably. It's all fun and games to wind him up, but we don't want him actually doing anything to hurt the game."

"Or Leigh," Brian added, resting a hand on my shoulder.

"That too," Maria agreed. "So, when he comes back, let's move on with the story. It's gonna be tight, but I can get us to where we need to be for what I've got planned at the con."

"Sounds good to me," I said, only a little disappointed. I'd been having fun with the sillier elements of the roleplay, but ultimately our goal was to tell a story, and I was ready to play my part.

Carmen let us know she was going to grab something to eat, and as she was heading out the door, Jonah came in. The smoke break seemed to have done him some good, with his color closer to normal, and he didn't even glare at me as he passed by my seat on the way around to his.

"All right, everyone back in their spots? Prepare to go live again in five... four... three...."

-==-

"So you will take the request then?"

I looked around at my fellow party members nervously.

What the duke was asking of us would be a huge challenge. On the other hand, it would also assure his alliance in the war I feared would break out on my quest to overthrow my uncle, and every ally we could make was a blessing.

I looked to Sunny, who gave me a vigorous thumbs up. She was always down for a challenge if it meant showing off her combat skills.

Adrian, in his shining armor, gave me a small nod and an even smaller smile. As a Paladin it was his duty to follow the word of law, and he likely would have insisted we follow the request regardless simply due to his oath to serve, but I knew that when it came down to it he was looking forward to the coming challenge just as much as Sunny.

John was too busy eying the silver decorations around the room to notice me, which was fine. I still didn't trust his intents, but he had helped us out of pinches in the past, and I was sure the gold offered was enough to buy his loyalty to a point.

Dahlia gave me one of her patented unreadable smiles, the same ones I had seen so often growing up whenever there was a big decision to be made and she was trusting me to make the right call. There was nothing I dreaded more than the day her trust in me might prove unfounded.

Lastly, Burg. He had trimmed his beard and hair for the meeting with the duke, and I couldn't help but muse that he would make a fine lord, should we survive our quest and defeat my uncle.

I took one last nervous breath, then turned back to the duke.

"Milord, we accept your request."

The duke smiled down at me, relief clear on his face. "I do thank thee, lady. This trade route is vital to my city's survival. Whether through war or through wiles, I care not, but seeing the fire giants gone will relieve me of a great deal of stress."

With our work decided, we headed back out, the Duke's messenger who had tracked us down in town showing us the way.

"Are there any other preparations we need to make before we set out?" I asked my companions.

"None I can think of."

"Nah, the sooner we get there, the sooner I get to bash some giant skulls in."

"I believe we have everything we need. Do we want to rest here overnight and head out tomorrow?" Adrian asked, looking to the darkening skies above us.

Out of character, I gave Maria a significant look, and she simply shrugged.

"I think that would be wise, too. All agreed?"

At the chorus of ayes, we made our way to the inn we had located earlier in the day.

The innkeeper was more than happy to have us, and after the exchange of what felt like a silly amount of gold we made our way to our rooms: Adrian and John, Sunny and Dahlia, and lastly... me and Burg.

"Are you sure?" He asked me, amused at my choice of roommates.

I blushed. "I... we are with child. Are we not?"

"We are," he agreed.

"Well, then it's to be expected."

"It is," he said, with that same amused smile.

The rooms were simple, but comfortable. Nothing to match the luxury of my life before exile from the palace, but far from the worst accommodations I had experienced in my time adventuring. I was about to get ready for bed, when Burg's hand caught my elbow.

"Yes?" I asked, looking up into his eyes, deep and sapphire blue.

"I have a gift."

"For me?"

He chuckled. "Not exactly," he said, before pulling a small cloth bag from behind his back. "But you should be the one to open it."

"Hmm." I took the bag curiously and undid the soft gold tassel holding it closed. I reached in and withdrew a soft, furry lump. I gave it a close look and laughed.

"You may deny my child many things, but you will not deny them a wolf companion," Burg said, reaching out to toy with one of the small, stuffed figure's floppy ears.

"I suppose not," I said, looking up again just in time for the kiss that I had fully expected would come.

"Are you two really gonna kiss this time?"

"Wha?" I jumped a bit, startled by Sydney's voice pulling me out of the game-space, only to realize just how close me and Brian really were. "Ah, no."

"Damnit!"

"Hey!"

Brian, too, seemed to be shaking a haze out of his head as he sat back in his chair, leaning away from me.

"Welp, on that very sweet note, I think we'll call it here, folks!" Maria said, smiling more broadly than I had seen her do at the end of any session in a while.

"Remember, everyone, that next week the Wednesday Knights won't be going live on Wednesday. That doesn't mean we don't have some great content for you, though! The tech crew are going to run a special one-shot for you guys that evening, and of course, you'll be able to catch us live both Saturday and Sunday when we livestream our live audience sessions at LSGC! And be sure to tune in Friday for the live chat recap of tonight's game. Our costume designer Carmen will be there as a special guest!"

The closing music began, and the lights began to fade, and I found myself idly fiddling with the very real plushie that was sitting in my arms as we sat through the fade out on the stream. It looked back at me with its big, shining eyes, the same color as Burg's.

The same color as Brian's.

As the lights came up, I once again found myself looking at Brian, who was Looking at me.

"I was wondering what was in that bag," I said, feeling oddly shy.

Brian chuckled, folding the little gift bag in his hands. "I texted Carmen to see if she'd mind picking it up. I remembered seeing them a while back, and after the session at the baby store, I thought it'd be fun. Canon-wise, Burg picked it up when he snuck off to get a trim."

It was certainly a cute thing, and I was finding it embarrassingly hard not to hug the toy as I held it.

Jeezus, maybe I am a girl.

"This isn't a wolf, though," I pointed out, wanting to distract myself as much as anything else. "It's a husky."

"Close enough for roleplay, right?"

"Yeah."

"Hey, you two, wanna get a move on so we can close up?" Maria asked me, her gaze moving between me and Brian with a look that I really didn't want to try and figure out right then.

"Ah, yeah," I said, starting to stand up only to realize... "Oh crap! Where's Carmen?"

"She's riding back to my place with me. She's waiting over there," Maria said, pointing to the corner of the room, where sure enough, Carmen was waiting, seemingly trying to stay out of the way of the crew as they packed things up.

I made my way over to her, and once again got a warm hug. "Mija, it's always so fun to watch you and Maria play your games." She looked down at the stuffie still in my arms and gave me an enigmatic smile. "It was a sweet gesture, was it not?"

"Yeah."

She looked over my shoulder, and following her line of sight, I saw Brian collecting our things.

"He's a good man."

"Yeah," I said again, in a softer tone.

"A-anyway," I said, shaking my head and turning back to her. "If you'll hold this, I'll go change." I offered her the stuffed pup, but she didn't take it.

"Nah ah!" Carmen shook her finger at me. "You said you'd wear them as long as I needed you to."

Oh shit.

Seeing my expression, she nodded. "I know it's going to be tough, but if you can, I would like for you to wear the bodysuit for at least the next couple of days. I need to know for certain it will not be a problem at the convention, and this will be a good test for it."

"Couple of days?!"

Carmen waved her hands to calm me down. "Now, now. I will be here again Friday for the... commentary thing? Come by then, and we can sort you out. Until then, I would appreciate you only taking it off to shower."

"And sleep," I added, only to get another long look. "No?"

"I can't make you do this," Carmen said, then shrugged.

"I--"

"Hey, ready to go?" Brian asked, walking up behind me, our things gathered in his arms. "I was thinking subs on the way home, sound good?"

"Ah, sure?" I said, glancing between him and Carmen, and seeing their two smiling faces, both asking me similar questions.

I let out a sigh and hugged my stuffed pup.

It seemed for the moment I'd be eating for two.

-==-

NOTES:

The usual, folks. If you don't wanna wait another week to see what happens next, then Chapter 7 is live on the Patreon!

https://www.patreon.com/posts/wednesday-7-by-e-80089761

It's free to read for anyone and everyone, so check it out! But fair warning: Patreon is once a week too, so don't blame ME if you still gotta wait!

All comments and likes are appreciated.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 7 -- Chocolate Chips

The sound of my phone dinging with a message is what jolted me awake, but it was the smell wafting into my room from the kitchen that kept me there.

Good thing, too. The dream was already fading from my mind, but it had involved Lunea, Burg, and rather acrobatic activities I didn't want to contemplate in my waking state. I found my hands idly moving to cradle my baby at the thought and pulled them violently back to my sides. One of them landed on something unexpected and furry and lifting it up to get a blurry look I recognized it as the stuffed puppy Brian had given me the night before.

I stared at it.

It stared back with its glittering eyes and innocent, adorable doggy smile.

I sat it on my pillow and gave its head a small pat. Not like I could blame my dreams on an inoffensive piece of fluff.

"Urgh," I grumbled as I sat up and searched my end table with bleary eyes and clumsy fingers, looking for my phone. I found my glasses first, and slipped them on, rendering my eyesight problems solved and shortly thereafter found the phone, which had vibrated its way to the floor. A few swipes later and I had the message pulled up:

Carmen: Heya, sweetie! Just a reminder to wear panties under the body suit.

I rolled my eyes. "They're men's bikinis," I said to nobody in particular. They were the closest concession I'd been willing to make to Carmen's wish that I wear "appropriate" underwear with her costumes, but she made a point of referring to them as panties every chance she got.

NP, I texted back before dropping the phone back on the end table and deciding to investigate the mouth-watering aroma drifting into my room. Costume concerns could wait: Brian's pancakes absolutely could not.

I was padding my way toward our kitchenette when Brian turned around; what seemed to be the last batch of pancakes making their way to the platter, already piled high with buttermilk goodness. He gave me a huge, sappy grin and held up a finger, then turned back to the griddle, shutting things down and stacking his dirty dishes while I settled onto one of the stools at the island and eyed the pile hungrily.

Getting a better look at the platter close-up, I had to swallow before I drooled all over myself. "Ohmigod, chocolate chip?" I pumped a fist in the air. "I didn't know we had any in the house!"

"We wouldn't have had any if I'd let you know we did," Brian said, returning to the island with dishes, butter, and syrup.

I frowned. "I eat one bag of chips, and I get branded untrustworthy for life."

"Two bags."

I shook my head. "That other one was peanut butter chips and doesn't count," I said, taking the plate and fork he offered me and spearing a couple cakes from the platter. "'Sides, I'd told you to buy the large bag."

"That was the largest bag the store had."

"Then it's the store's fault for not selling big enough bags." I added a pad of butter between my cakes and started sliding the top one around on top of the bottom one, spreading the butter with it, then poured a healthy dollop of the syrup on top.

Brian watched me fix my cakes, then took three for himself, going heavier on the butter and syrup than I had.

I took a bite and felt my eyes flutter as the chocolate and syrup hit my system. Brian slid a glass of milk across to me, and all I could do is give him an appreciative and thankfully closed-mouthed grin.

That was it for conversation until the pancakes were almost gone.

"Only four?" Brian asked, chuckling as he put the extras in a freezer bag. "You usually eat at least six."

"Stupid bodysuit," I groaned, leaning back as much as I dared on the stool and stretching.

"If it's that tight, probably best you don't try to eat more anyway. Might all go to your boobs."

"I don't have boobs!" I huffed, crossing my arms across my currently unpadded but still wire-enhanced chest.

"You ain't flat," Brian countered, still putting away the breakfast fixings and loading the dishwasher. "Even without the help."

"That's pecs," I argued, for some reason wishing I'd put the bra on instead of just wearing the jersey I normally slept in.

"Pecs don't jiggle when you jump."

"I don't have boobs," I said again, more forcefully than I'd intended, and almost fell off my seat. "And I need to pee," I said, climbing down from the stool and turning my back to him. I did my best to ignore his chuckling as I stomped off toward the bathroom.

"Stupid Brian," I grumped as I undid the snaps on the bodysuit. "Stupid bodysuit," I grumped, as I slid my underwear down and dropped on the seat. "Stupid... pecs," I grumped, as I poked one of said pecs as I sat.

It was hard to tell through the baggy jersey, but perhaps it did have a little jiggle to it.

"I do not have boobs," I said again, crossing my arms to ensure no more jiggling would occur.

I'd had the same argument with Maria back when we were in high school. I'd always been pretty skinny, but never really bony. Instead, I'd always just kinda been a little soft. Yes, that included my chest.

But I didn't have boobs, and Maria had even agreed when I'd finally consented to let her and Carmen measure me. They'd consented that I'd barely qualify for an A cup, if that, and it was just puppy fat.

I looked up from where I was sitting on the commode to the bra I'd given a quick hand-wash the night before and tossed over the shower rail. Finishing my business, I washed my hands and checked to see if it was dry. Since it was, I pulled off my jersey -- fighting not to lose my glasses in the process -- and slipped the bra on over my head, taking a few moments to adjust things for comfort.

Looking in the mirror, I couldn't help but frown. "Now I have boobs," I conceded, reaching up and gently poking one again. The bra did its job: the support minimized the jiggle, and the padding minimized the impact. I rolled my eyes and slipped my jersey back on before heading back out to the kitchen.

"Better now?" Brian asked, putting the griddle on the counter to dry. The rest of the dishes were already chugging along in the dishwasher.

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Well, make it up to me by paying for lunch today while we're out."

"Okay. Wait. Why are we going out?"

Brian pointed at the trash. "That was the last of the buttermilk, and the chocolate chips, and we need to pick up a few other things too."

I felt woozy for a second as the implications of going out hit me. "Can't you go on your own?"

"You don't want to?"

"I can't!" I squeaked. "Not like this!" I waved down at myself.

"Don't bother me," he said, smiling. "And you could just take it off."

"I..." I stopped. "I can't."

"Why not?"

I sighed. "I told Carmen I'd wear it all day today," I said, resting a hand on my bump.

"Sure," Brian said slowly, giving me a long look. "But I doubt she meant you should embarrass yourself in public. If you don't think you can wear it out, I'm sure she'd understand."

"Maybe, but." I looked down and away. "The convention's next weekend, and I'm not used to it?"

"Well," Brian started to speak, then stopped himself. "All right, I want you to go shopping with me today, so maybe if you just wear something loose, nobody will notice."

"Y'think?" I asked, looking down at myself. I didn't see how I could hide it.

"Yeah. Just throw on a baggy hoodie or something, or... wait here," Brian said, dashing out of the kitchenette and down the short hall to his room. A few seconds later, he returned and handed me a pile of cloth. "Problem solved."

I unfolded the bundle and looked at... "One of your shirts?"

"Sure," Brian said, shrugging. "You tend to wear your clothes a bit tight, so you're right, I don't think you've got a hoodie loose enough that the baby wouldn't show. So."

I looked at the shirt, then at Brian. Then back at the shirt. Then back at Brian.

Brian grinned at me, seeming as proud as if he'd just solved world hunger.

"You realize how ridiculous I'll look walking around in one of your tents for a shirt?"

"Just try it on."

"...Fine."

Once again, I found myself storming off, this time back to my room, apparently to get dressed to go grocery shopping.

I tossed Brian's shirt on the bed and frowned at it. It was a long-sleeved button-down, blue-on-white plaid. It would be a last resort.

I walked over to my closet and began digging through what was on the rail and what was in the drawers beneath, grabbing a few options and tossing them on the bed next to Brian's last resort shirt, then got to work getting dressed.

The problems started with pants. My baby bump pushed the front of any pants I tried on out and down, which would pull the back up and tight, turning every pair of what were already mostly skinny jeans into ass-huggers. Shorts fared a bit better, but being currently hairless, my legs stood out like crazy, at least to me. So, tight-ass jeans it was.

Delving into shirts, I immediately ran into similar problems. I wouldn't call my wardrobe 'tight' per se, but in context, nothing I owned did anything to hide either the baby or my enhanced boobage.

I looked at the third hoodie in a row and felt deflated. It would have been too hot for a Louisiana August anyway, but even without that, it made me look, well, pregnant.

"I should just take the suit off," I told myself as I stripped the hoodie off. "Why not?"

That really was the important question. Why not?

I flopped back on the bed, in between piles of rejected clothes, and thought about it.

In the pros column of removing the bodysuit was, of course, the simple fact that I wouldn't be wearing the bodysuit. I wasn't sure exactly what Carmen had made it out of, probably some form of silicone, but it was heavy, and warm, and pressed on me in weird ways. If I took it off, I'd avoid all those things, and be able to wear anything I wanted.

Less self-consciousness. Less chance of public embarrassment. Less questions.

In the negatives? If I got used to wearing it now, it really would be easier to handle when the convention came around. Plus, I had promised Carmen I'd wear it. That might not seem like a lot, but I took promises very seriously and hated breaking them without a good reason.

Was public reception a good enough reason?

I'd lived in Bayonet for almost eight years. I'd gone to college here, built a life here after college, made friends here. It wasn't the biggest place in the world, but it wasn't tiny either, and the likelihood we'd run into someone I knew was relatively high.

Then again, a lot of folks assumed I was a woman anyway. Hell, I had college professors who were still calling me Miss when I graduated, and last time I'd seen our apartment's super, he'd done the same. A few folks might bat an eye, but even for the folks who knew me by name, how many of them would care?

Of the ones who might ask or say something, how many of them would find it any weirder if I was doing this as a guy or a girl?

Then, there was the other, much weirder part to consider...

Did I *want* to take it off?

There was the immediate mental Yes, for all the reasons mentioned above. But there was another part of me that disagreed.

As part of my research into what Lunea would go through with her pregnancy and motherhood, I'd read a lot of articles about daily life as a pregnant woman. The feet swelling, the challenges of handling the growing child. But I'd also read about so many good things, too: the sense of fulfillment, the feeling of contentment and love that came from knowing your baby was there.

Once again, I found myself gently cradling my baby bump, but this time I didn't jerk my hands away.

I felt like I'd gotten a bit of that in my normal roleplay sessions as Lunea. I'd certainly tried. But last night, there had been something different. As silly as it may sound, actually carrying around the weight of my baby, feeling the pressure, having that physical presence -- artificial as it may be -- had made everything more intense.

I didn't like the bodysuit... but I liked the feeling of being a mom-to-be. That was terrifying in and of itself, but again, there was a part of me that didn't want to give it up just yet.

*Sigh.*

I sat up and reached for Brian's shirt. I'd agreed to at least try it on, so that's exactly what I was going to do.

I felt like I was donning a poncho as I slid my arms into the sleeves, then bunched the sleeves up as much as I could so my hands were clear to do up the buttons on the front of the shirt, all but the top two. With the shirt buttoned, I rolled the sleeves up, one, two, three times, 'til they fell just past my elbows, with enough material in the cuff I was afraid if I rolled them up any more I'd look like I was wearing floaties.

I tugged the shirt this way and that a bit, swimming in it, then looked in the mirror again.

And laughed.

The wide collar of the shirt left a lot of neck and chest on display, and a quick bend showed me a generous view down into my wire and padding-enhanced cleavage. It did, in fact, hide my baby bump, but mostly by virtue of being so big and loose that it made me look like a twelve-year-old wearing their dad's clothes.

Or, I guess more accurately, with the bedhead I still sported, a girlfriend wearing her boyfriend's.

I stopped laughing as I considered that.

Here I was, standing in the apartment I shared with Brian, wearing his clothes, after having eaten a breakfast he'd fixed for me. As far as most people were concerned, that was probably three-quarters of the way to qualifying for the morning-after girlfriend role.

Still looking at myself in the mirror, I played with my hair a bit, using my fingers to brush it all to one side instead of the gelled spikes I normally would do. Without the gel, my hair tended to fold over in a bit of a soft wave, shiny and straight.

Stare.

Fuck it.

Brian was sitting on the couch with his back to me when I walked back out of the room. "Sorry that took me so long," I said, plopping down next to him with shoes in hand.

"No prob, I'm used to... it..." he trailed off as he looked at me, his jaw going slack.

"What?" I asked, tying up my converse.

"Uh... you're still wearing your glasses," he said after a long pause.

"Yeah, well. One more thing to make me look different than I usually do," I told him, which was true. I usually only wore my glasses long enough to find my contact case and put them in, but seeing how I looked in the mirror with the tortoiseshell frames and slightly too-big lenses, it felt like keeping them on might help people not recognize me so quickly.

"Ah, yeah. Good idea. You look, umm...."

"Like I'm thirteen?"

Brian laughed, the spell seeming to finally break. "I was gonna say you look cu--... good."

"Oh," I said, blushing a bit. "Well... thanks." We shared another awkward look. "So! Uh, where to first?"

"Right," he said, standing up. I did the same. "I wanna go by the game store first. Heimdall Nine is out today, I'd like to pick that up. Then the grocery store?"

"Sounds good to me," I agreed, grabbing my messenger bag and heading toward the door. "So, how about we get started before I change my mind?"

"As you wish, milady," Brian said in the voice he used for Burg, passing me and holding the door open.

I gave him another sideways look but said nothing as I stepped out and into the hallway.

-==-

NOTES:

Chapter 8 is up on the BCTS Patreon! It's free to read!

Like and comment, I'm *tryin'* to respond to 'em!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 8 -- The Family Way

I wasn't sure what I'd expected of our trip shopping... but it wasn't the almost complete and utter indifference we received.

Perhaps I was overestimating my public profile. Perhaps I'd just misjudged how many folks already assumed I was a girl. Either way, I'd expected at least a few head turns or eye rolls when people noticed me, and at least one person to question why I was out looking more like a soccer mom killing time before she has to pick the kids up at school than a successful streamer out to get groceries.

The fact I wasn't sure what a successful streamer out to get groceries SHOULD look like wasn't relevant. It would probably involve a selfie stick, though.

That wasn't to say that I wasn't getting SOME looks. Just not the ones I was expecting.

The game store was pretty normal. The girl was working the counter today, so that was at least better than when it was the bald guy who always made me uncomfortable. Even our first stop at the discount store had been blasé, with few people giving me a first glance, let alone a second one.

The grocery store was proving to be an entirely different beast, though. I'd noticed several women giving me appraising glances and sneering right up until Brian would move near me when the sneers would change to looks that were, best I could tell either jealousy or amusement. I'd had one woman who had to be at least in her fifties look between the two of us, Brian pushing the cart and me filling it, and give me a wink and a thumbs-up as she scanned him up and down.

Brian, of course, seemed to miss more than half of it, and what he did notice seemed to amuse him greatly. Rather than helping, he would lean into it, putting a hand on my shoulder or leaning in close to speak to me.

That was bad enough, but it was the things I wasn't sure he noticed he was doing that were starting to agitate me more. Stuff like getting things off tall shelves for me without asking or opening the doors in the freezer aisle for me and holding them while I shopped, or just....

He kept looking at me.

He was looking at me.

"What?" I asked him, feeling a self-conscious blush rising in my cheeks.

"What?" He asked back, seeming to snap back to reality. He glanced away for a second, then gave me a goofy grin.

I sighed.

Brian looked through the cart, then asked, "What else do we need to grab?"

"Hmm." I checked our cart versus the list on my phone, and the mental list I had of the things that always inevitably managed to wind up not getting put on the official list and thought. "I think we've got everything we needed to pick up. Was there anywhere else you wanted to go today?"

"Lunch."

I rolled my eyes at that. "We've got frozen stuff in the cart."

Brian shrugged. "Let's take everything home first, then go get something. You're buying, remember?"

I groaned. "Ugh. Yer killin' me, Smalls."

"Look who's talking," he said, reaching out and patting my head a couple times.

"Agh!" I squeaked, much to my own consternation, as I backed away and guarded my head. "Stop it! Or no lunch for you."

"Yes, ma'am."

That got another glare from me, which of course, only made his goofy grin spread wider.

We checked out, Brian putting the groceries on his card (I'd transfer him my half later) and soon were back in his truck, puttering through the moderate mid-day traffic.

Bayonet wasn't a huge place. About thirty thousand people strong, with a healthy percentage of that being students or faculty attached to the liberal arts college that shared the town's name. Nevertheless, it was about a fifteen-minute drive from the grocery store back to our apartment on the outer edge of the town once the stop lights and meandering streets were taken into account.

I glanced to my left, only to catch Brian looking at me again.

"Eyes on the road?"

He laughed but turned his attention back to his driving. "Sorry, it's just a little surreal seeing you like...."

"Like what?" I asked, annoyed.

"Like *that.*"

I sighed. "Hey, it was your idea for me to come shopping."

"I know! And I'm glad you did. It's always better when you're along," he said, giving me another sideways Look and a smile. "And it was fun putting on a show for the grandmas too."

I wanted to argue with him on that but found myself sharing his smile. "Okay, yeah, that was a little fun. Hopefully, they don't remember what I look like next time we go shopping, though."

"Why? Worried they might expect us to hold hands or something?"

I fought the blush that rose unbidden to my cheeks. "No! Just might be awkward if they realize I'm not..."

"Pregnant?"

It wasn't what I was going to say, but I nodded anyway and hugged myself.

"Yeah, well, if my shirt did its job, maybe they didn't notice that part."

"Maybe," I agreed, playing with the hem of the shirt a bit as I looked down at it. "I guess being out like this wasn't as bad as I'd expected."

"I'm glad," Brian said, reaching over and giving my knee a pat and squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.

I couldn't help but let out a pup-pup of laughter as a thought occurred to me. "Imagine if we'd run into Jonah today, though."

I was expecting Brian to laugh at the thought too, but instead, he seemed to frown at the idea.

"What?"

Brian shook his head. "I'm worried about him."

"I... I kinda am, too," I agreed, looking back out the window instead of at Brian's furrowed brow. "He seemed to calm down about things yesterday, though."

"Yeah, he was pretty quiet after the mid-point break," Brian agreed. "But he was still giving you some odd looks."

"He was?" I asked.

"You had to notice, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Brian, he wasn't looking at me any different than he ever does. It's always either angry glares or...."

"Or what?"

I shook my head. "I dunno."

"I think I do," Brian said, in a tone that gave me a chill. I turned, and he was Looking at me again.

"Hmm?"

Now Brian laughed, though there was little humor in it. "Come on, Leigh. You know what he's thinking when he looks at you like that."

"I'm sure I don't," I said, turning away again as my cheeks burned.

But I did.

"Guy's had a crush on you for years," Brian said, vocalizing out loud something I'd been ignoring as best I could.

I shook my head again. "No, he hasn't." Brian was about to argue again, but I stopped him. "Really, I don't think so. I think he has a crush on my characters, not me."

Brian went quiet for a moment. "Okay. What's the difference?"

"Sex?" I shrugged. "Jonah reminds me of... did I ever tell you about Evan?"

"Evan, the asshole?"

"I guess I have," I laughed, glad to have something to lighten the mood a bit.

Evan had been part of the group Maria ran when we were in high school and, in a lot of ways, made Jonah's attitude look positively mild-mannered by comparison. He would constantly be trying to tell the rest of us what we should do with our characters, how to play the game 'right,' and fight with Maria over lore and rules.

We had put up with it for a long time simply because we were young, and finding people to play with us was hard enough without banishing a player from the group.

That all changed when we were in tenth grade, and Evan... broke. He spent half a session yelling at me and Kayla, a friend of ours who played with us, that we were cockteases and one of us -- his focus on Kayla -- owed him some "relief."

Parents became involved, and Evan never spoke to any of us again.

I didn't get it then, and I didn't get it now.

Yes, I always played women in games if I had the option. So sue me, but I just found them more interesting and compelling characters. You read fantasy books, and the men are always these strong brutes or frail masterminds, but the women? The women could be those things too, but they were also cast as the savvy gray sorceress, or the mysterious guide, or the sensual assassin. There was just so much more variety in who it felt like they could be.

And the art! The men were always the same: chiseled jaws, shining armor, all dull colors and deep-voiced and... generic. But the women could be in armor or gowns, robes or bikinis, and anything and everything in between and beyond.

The men were fine, but the women were always so much *more.*

As I got older, a lot of that romantic vision died as I familiarized myself more and more with the broad spectrums of fantasy. I started to recognize the sexism in the depictions, the less-than-subtle ways that those masculine ideals that I found so unappealing to engage with were pushed as heroic while the more interesting elements so often associated with femininity in the medium were seen as deceitful or antagonistic.

Yet I'd still found myself drawn to playing women who both embraced and defied those things.

"I think," I started, then paused for a moment to make sure I had what I wanted to say clear in my head.

"Hmm?"

"I think," I started again, "that Jonah is unhappy with his life, and sees the game as a way to get things he wants. Strength, wealth, power."

"Okay."

I took a deep breath before I continued. "Jonah wants to win, and I think part of that is feeling like the game is about his character, and them getting what they want. And since I tend to play women...."

Brian nodded. "Okay, but why doesn't he do the same to Deedee and Sid? They sit side by side with him every game."

I laughed out loud at that. "I think they intimidate him too much. And Maria's the boss, and you don't mess with the boss."

Brian cocked his head as he seemed to get it. "So, if he goes after one of their characters, he has to deal with--"

"Yep," I nodded. "But I'm short and scrawny, so not a threat to him. And I tend to play very, umm, femme characters." I shrugged. "So, he can want my character, and not be scared of having to talk to a real girl about it."

Brian nodded, thinking. "I can see that, mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Mostly," Brian said again, as he turned into the parking lot at our apartment building.

I silently contemplated what he could mean by that as we pulled into his spot and grabbed our bags out of the bed of the truck. Up the stairs, in the door, and to the kitchen I went, putting away groceries while Brian sorted out the toiletries and other pick-ups.

"You picked up two bags of chocolate chips?"

"Yeah, maybe that way, one of them will survive for more pancakes."

I rolled my eyes at that but couldn't help smiling as I stuck them up in the cabinet.

Ten minutes later, we were out the door and heading back down the stairs to the truck. I couldn't resist any longer, and asked, "So, why mostly?"

Brian chuckled. "Because the looks don't stop when you're out of character."

Instead of saying anything else I settled for a groan of effort as I hauled myself up and into the passenger seat of the truck. Brian waited until I was buckled in to start moving, and as we pulled out of the lot again, he turned to the right instead of the left, away from town.

"Where are we going?" I asked him, wondering what was happening.

"Someplace a bit out of the way, but I think you'll like it."

"Is it far?"

"Thirty, forty minutes?"

"Forty minutes!"

"Trust me," he said, smiling at me and once again reaching over to pat my knee.

Much as I might not want to, I did.

-==-

NOTES:

Wanna read ahead another chapter and then STILL have to wait another week for more? Chapter 9 is available to read on the BCTS Patreon even as we speak! Hop on over and check it out.

Warning: may contain alligators and/or gumbo.

As always, let me know your thoughts! I love seeing the comments and kudos!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 9 -- Gumbo

"We're lost."

"No, we're not," Brian assured me for the third time, the truck bouncing its way from pothole to pothole on the deeply rutted and far too narrow dirt road he'd turned off on. "It's a shortcut."

"A shortcut to where? If we'd stuck to pavement, we coulda been in Baton Rouge by now," I said, then let out a squeak of mixed alarm and pain as we bounced through another rut. I was glad we were in his truck and not my little Fiat.

Brian rolled his eyes at me, but the grin never left his face. "What, you tellin' me you've never been out in the *oof* real bayou?" He asked, slowing down to ease into the ditch on his side of the road and maneuver around a cypress hanging too low for the truck to pass under.

"This isn't the bayou. This is the opening shots of the movie before we wind up at the murder hobo's shack," I said, frowning and rubbing my temple where the last bump had sent me head-first into the window. "See? It's right there." I pointed at the shack in question, ahead of us and on the left.

"And that's the paved road again right next to it," Brian argued, pointing. "Murder hobos never live on the paved road."

"There's a first for everything."

"Is there?" He asked me, then pulled over into the dirt lot next to the shack. "Well then, let's find out."

Brian hopped out of the truck and started toward the shack, but stopped when he realized I hadn't followed him. Instead, I sat resolutely in my seat, studying the rather dubious building.

I'd seen places like it before, sure, but mostly in the post-hurricane clean-up period when people were scrounging for shelter and scrapping what they could. The walls were a mixture of old tin and cedar slats, though the roof itself looked to be more recent, with only mild rust spots breaking up the metallic gleam of the bare tin in the sun. The doors were open, and a couple of moisture-wilted fans spun lazily on the broad porch at the front of the building. "Delray's" was written on the big sheet glass window in white paint, rough and streaky.

If this wasn't a murder hobo shack, then it was the place where the unlucky couple met the murder hobo before being led *to* the shack.

Brian came back to the truck and opened my door, giving me an annoyed look. "Come on, you said you trusted me."

"Yeah, but-- is that an alligator?!" I asked, the chain link fence behind the place finally catching my attention, as well as the long brown and green shape behind it. "It is!"

"That's just Zeke," Brian said like it was nothing.

"It has a name?" I looked to the building, then the gator, then back to Brian again.

Brian sighed. "This is why I haven't brought you here before. Listen, it's fine. It's an old family place, and the food's great," he said, looking defeated.

Shit.

I looked at the place again. Then I looked into Brian's sad eyes.

"If there are any eyeballs, gonads, or brains in anything I eat here, it will be in your floorboards before we get home," I warned him, sliding down into the narrow space he'd left between himself and the truck. Getting down out of the thing was always an adventure, but the baby bump made it more so, and I found myself unsteady on my feet in the red clay and brown dirt that made up the lot. I wobbled, but Brian caught my shoulder and held me steady.

"Deal," he said, his expression brightening as he gave my shoulder a squeeze. "But if you love it? You owe me."

"Deal," I agreed reluctantly, as Brian's thumb continued to caress my collarbone.

Once again Brian was grinning as he slid his hand from my shoulder to the middle of my back and began leading me toward the building, kicking the truck door closed behind him as we went.

As we passed through the doors and my eyes adjusted to the light inside, I realized that the interior of the place was a lot nicer than the outside. The concrete floor was bare but clean, and the large room was filled with a mixture of weathered and beaten chairs, stools, and old dining booths, with equally worn-looking tables, but it was all clean, and the smells wafting in from the double doors at the back of the room, between the glass-doored cases of drinks, had me fighting to swallow before I drooled all over myself.

Of course, Brian noticed.

"Now, THAT is a proper reaction to Delray's," he said, finally taking his hand from my back, walking over to the double doors, and pushing them open. "Hey, Lorne!" He bellowed, then walked back over to me.

Moments later, a figure burst through the doors, looking for all the world like one of the worst stereotypes of Louisiana imaginable. His white tee shirt was covered in stains, as well as the apron he wore over it, his arms thick and red from the flash of fire and slick with sweat, and his face equally red, his thinning hair pulled back from his face in a low ponytail. I could see the resemblance between him and Brian, in their height and lanky builds, but it was immediately obvious that this man enjoyed eating his food as much as he enjoyed making it, having at least forty pounds on Brian.

"Lordy! If 'taint lil' cousin Brian, outta da city t' bum about wit us Cowpeas!" He said, marching forward and wrapping Brian in a massive hug, lifting him off the floor. "Been a bit, cuz, been a bit!"

"Hah! Yeah, sorry about that. You know I couldn't stay away forever, though."

"You bet! Don' feed ya right in da city, eh?" The big man laughed, poking Brian in the belly with one of his thick fingers before turning his grin on me. "And who's da lady?"

"Oh, ah. Lorne, this is Leigh. Leigh, Lorne," Brian said, rubbing his neck awkwardly. I gave him an annoyed look, but he just shrugged helplessly.

"Hi," I said, holding out my hand for a shake, only for the man to take it and lift it gently, kissing the back.

"Whatsa pretty ting like you doin' wit a Venable, huh? We Cowpeas got all da good looks," he said, waggling his eyebrows at me and winking.

I couldn't help but laugh, which seemed to be the right answer since it got an even wider grin out of the man, whose eyes were twinkling as he took a step back. "Waiddaminit. Dis is Leigh?" He asked, giving Brian a disbelieving look. "Well, Brian talk about you all da time. Way he say it, we thought you was a guy!" Lorne said, laughing loudly. "I'll be sure ta let Cousin Ella know he been keepin' you away!"

With every word that left Lorne's mouth, I could see Brian turning redder and redder, and I was sure I was doing much the same, but that only seemed to make his cousin even more amused.

"Cut it out, will ya, Lorne? And knock it off with the accent too. That's terrible, and Uncle Delray would smack you if he heard you."

Lorne gave Brian a sour look and crossed his arms. "Hey, now. That accent makes me bank when the tourists come through. Don't go ruinin' my mystique, cuz." Then he turned to me and winked again. "It is good to finally meet ya, though, Leigh. We've heard a lot about ya, so it's nice to put such a pretty face to the name."

"I, I'm not..." I started, but just couldn't find the words.

"The usual?" Lorne asked, turning to Brian again and wiping his hands on his apron.

"Yeah, for both of us. Go light on the spice on Leigh's."

"A'ight, gimme twenty, and it'll be out, take a seat and grab a drink."

"Can do," Brian said, though his cousin was already disappearing through the double swing doors. Brian shook his head, then came over and put a hand in the middle of my back again, nudging me toward the drink coolers. More quietly, he continued. "Sorry about that. Lorne can be a bit much."

"Cowpea?" I asked, grabbing a blue cream soda out of the rack.

Brian chuckled and grabbed a sarsaparilla out of one of the other cases. "It's Coupe," he said, pronouncing the name coo-pay, "but Lorne and his sister used to wind Uncle Delray up by mispronouncing it on purpose. Don't let the outfit fool ya: Lorne spent a few years as an attorney before moving back home to help watch Uncle Delray and Aunt Lois and still does pro bono work for some of the folks around here. Only reason it's so quiet is it's early on a Thursday afternoon: if we'd come down here after work on a Friday, or on the weekend, this place would be full up. Uncle Delray's gumbo is a bit of an institution around here."

"Is it now?" I asked, as more mouth-watering aromas drifted out from the room beyond the doors. We settled down at one of the booths, and I popped the top off my bottle and took a long sip.

"Yeah. And before you ask, no: I've tried to get Lorne to share the recipe with me, and he refuses."

"Course not," Lorne yelled from the back room. "Ain't no Venable getting the Cowpea secret recipe!"

I quirked an eyebrow at Brian, but he took a swig of his own drink before saying anything else. "There was... history between the families before Mom and Dad got married. Something about a stolen mule or something."

"Borrowed mule! Borrowed!"

I tried not to laugh, and very nearly succeeded.

Brian rolled his eyes. "Borrowed," he said, extra loudly. "Without permission. It's complicated."

"I'll bet," I agreed, trying unsuccessfully to hide my grin behind my bottle.

I leaned back and closed my eyes, just soaking in the ambiance. The fans in the room did little more than stir the muggy late August air, and I could hear an old Elvis song playing from some hidden speakers nearby, somewhat indistinct and interrupted by the sounds of the animals outside, and the occasional slap of water that I was sure was the alligator behind the place getting up to something.

Okay, so maybe this place wasn't so murder-hobo-ey after all.

"So, ah, Leigh."

"Yeah?" I asked, opening my eyes again. Brian was giving me an odd look, but before he could say anything else, we both heard the double doors to the kitchen open.

"Two bowls of authentic Cowpea gumbo, cornbread on the side. One of them family-spiced, the other tourist-grade," Lorne said, setting a steaming bowl of soup in front of each of us and smiling.

"Tourist grade?" I asked, feeling somewhat offended even as I leaned forward to get a deeper sniff of the heady tones drifting out of the bowl.

Lorne laughed. "Brian, let her take a nose full o' yours," he said, shifting our bowls so that now Brian's was before me.

I gave Brian a nervous glance, but all he did was shrug and grin like he knew what was coming. A little irritated at their seeming shared opinion that I couldn't handle it, I leaned forward once again and took a deep breath...

"Ack!" I jerked back and coughed, immediately reaching for the napkins on the table to stop my sinuses up. "Holy crap!"

Now they were both laughing, loud and long, even as Lorne swapped our bowls again. "If Brian has one saving grace, it's that he has a proper Cowpea appreciation for the finer things in life."

"Like chemical weapons?" I asked between bouts of blowing my nose and wiping it.

"Well, that's why you got the tourist grade," Brian said, picking up his spoon and taking a bite of his soup. I watched as the sweat beaded on his forehead, but nothing else even hinted at the utterly inhuman level of spice I knew he had just eaten. He caught me looking and winked before going for another spoonful.

With my nose clear and dry, I finally grabbed my own spoon and dipped it into the murky bowl before me, lifting a healthy little pile of okra, shrimp, and other mysteries out. I took one more sniff, reassuring myself I had the right bowl, before eating it.

"*Mmmm-mmmm.*"

Lorne pulled a chair up to our booth from another nearby table and spun it around, straddling the back and grinning at us. "And yet another woman falls for the charms of the Cowpea gumbo recipe."

"Mmm-mmm," I moaned again, around a third spoonful of soup.

"Y'know, y'leave this chump in the mud and stay with me, and you could eat this every day."

"Lorne...." Brian started, but his cousin cut him off.

"Y'know, back when he was in high school lil' Brian here would bring every girlfriend he got here on their first date. Impress 'em with our food, then ply 'em with the Venable wiles."

"I didn't..." Brian started, then gave me a worried look. I raised an eyebrow, and he sighed. "Uncle Delray's gumbo is the best, and I got the family discount."

"And made good use of it too," Lorne said, with a mock disapproving tone. "But then you moved off to town and started going to that lefty college and haven't brought a girl by since. Just you on your lonesome when you come down for the holidays."

"It's a long drive for gumbo," Brian said, red in the face as much from embarrassment as the heat of his soup.

"But she's worth it?" Lorne asked, looking from me to Brian, then back again.

"I'm paying," I said, doing my best to hide my own embarrassment with a forced laugh.

"Wha? Well, we can't have that!" Lorne said, taking a tea towel off his belt and smacking Brian upside the head with it. "If this lout won't pay for ya, then Lorne's got ya covered. Call it a thank you for keeping my cousin in line."

"I'm not--"

"We're not--"

I looked at Brian.

Brian looked at me.

Gumbo dripped.

With a resigned slump of my shoulders, I gave Lorne my best smile. "I'll do my best," I agreed. "But I'd like to pay anyway."

"We're cash only."

"Oh." I blushed. "Ah, in that case, thank you?"

Lorne laughed again, then stood up. "You city kids. Brian used to know better, but he's getting soft. I'll leave you two to it and be back with some beignets for dessert here in a bit."

"You don't have to--"

Brian held up his hand to stop me. "If Lorne's making beignets, you don't say no."

Once more, Lorne laughed as he disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving us alone with our meal.

The frogs sang. The fans whispered. The King crooned.

-==-

NOTES: Don't forget, Chapter 10 is available now to read at the BCTS Patreon! Parts here come in a week after they appear there. All my stories that are up over on Patreon are free to read, and since I've seen that it's confused some folks, no, you don't even need to have a Patreon account to check them out, so do it!

(Though if you do, and like what you find over there, feel free to MAKE a Patreon account and support us there! The BCTS Patreon does a lot to help make ends meet for the site and crew.)

As always, I love seeing comments and kudos, so leave all of 'em you want!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 10 -- Bitties

"ShitshitshitshitSHIT! YES!" I let out a whoop as my kart crossed the finish line, narrowly bumping TimSkittles' own out of the way and granting me victory.

"Well, monkeyfarts," Tim said, his voice tinny and scratchy over his cheaper headset.

I duplicated the dance my avatar was doing as she stood atop the podium, waving her trophy and smiling.

It was a hard-won victory, too. Tim was an expert at PlumberKart Ultra, and usually creamed the rest of us when we would play, but we were playing the new downloadable course pack, and for once, he didn't have hundreds of hours more practice than the rest of us. My victory was narrow but earned.

"Folks wanna do another round?" I asked my streaming companions, only to get a round of reasons they couldn't. "How about you, Tim?"

"I think I want more practice first," he said, laughing a bit on the other end of the call. "But thanks, Sprite. I'll be sure to take you more serious in the future."

"That's ominous," I said, getting another laugh before Tim hung up. "Well, folks, I guess that's it for PlumberKart for tonight. We have at long last proven Queen Apple's superiority as a kart racer and must now depart for more adventures! But how about some chat questions while I figure out what we'll play next, hmm?" I asked, leaving the Queen to dance as I half-scanned chat and my list of installed games.

I had the new Radical Amphibian Fighters collection, that could be fun, and I hadn't played any of them since I was a kid. The remaster of We Are Left Alone was finished installing, too: I'd skipped the original when it came out, so wasn't sure I wanted my first experience with such a story-driven game to be on-stream. Hmmm....

A quick look at chat gave me more pause. "Two Fiddy sent eight hundred bits. Thanks a bunch! Eli_Engarde says 'lots of love for Queen Apple, wish she got another game of her own.' Same, Eli, same," I said, spotting another highlighted post and frowning. "IntoTheAether, this is your last warning. I will have the mods ban you." I sighed and leaned back in my chair. "For the last time, folks. It was just a suit worn for the game, and I'm not actually pregnant. See?" I asked, standing up and pulling my tee shirt tight. "No baby bump."

I sat back down and perused my game list again. I could play some Colonizers, but that didn't tend to keep my audience's interest much. I had Hoe Warrior installed, but folks had gotten tired of the combination platformer/gardening sim pretty fast. Hmmm.

"BigCh33se asks, 'Hey Sprite! Was wondering why you don't... *sigh.* Was wondering why you don't wear makeup on stream.' I only wear makeup when I'm in costume, Cheese. Otherwise, it's au naturel for me." I looked at my game list and smiled. "All right, folks, how'sabout we relax with some classic Crystal Adventurers? I haven't played the remake yet, so let's check it out!"

I booted the game and tried to relax a bit as I watched the revamped intro cinematics.

The truth was, I was more on edge than usual, and it was entirely that stupid body suit's fault.

After our late lunch/early dinner Thursday, we'd returned to the apartment, and things had mostly been pretty normal. *Mostly.* We'd gone about our normal routines, games and projects and phone calls and socials, but....

I dunno. It was different somehow. It seemed like every time we were in the same room, we'd catch each other just watching. Was he looking at me different, or was it just my imagination?

Was I looking at him differently? Or was the whole day out and the way people had treated us just getting to my head?

Brian was out of the apartment most of Friday -- the stream brought in enough that he didn't have to work full-time, but he still liked to put his engineering degree to use with the occasional consulting gig -- so I'd spent the day alone up until it was time to head to the studio and turn the body suit back in to Carmen. It hadn't taken long for me to get a bit bored, and I'd found myself trying on different clothes I had, to see how they looked with the bodysuit.

It was... weird how not-weird it looked, if that makes sense. And the more I saw myself in it, the less odd it felt to do so.

"Okay, let's see. Party members... we'll go with the classic lineup, Fighter, Monk, Cleric, Wizard. Oh, hey, they included female sprite sets this time, neat! Fighter can be Brian. Monk is gonna be Syd, of course. I'll be the Cleric, and we'll make the wizard Aaron. Deedee and Maria, you're sitting this one out, sorry!" I glanced at chat again. "Fartastic, thank you for the donation! Oh, and it looks like my mods have put up a poll?" I looked and frowned. "Guys, no. I don't care what the poll says, I'm not gonna do makeup for a stream."

I shook my head and turned my attention back to the game. "I will, however, fireball some gobbos. Sound good? Good."

I finished my shopping in the first town of the game and began the standard round of grinding, filling the space between fights with inane chatter as I continued to think about how weird the last few days had been.

Carmen had, of course, been super happy to see me show up at the studio still wearing the bodysuit, and had immediately pulled me into the bathroom and asked me to strip down so she could check some stress points while I was still wearing it. It was embarrassing, but it was far from the most nude I'd ever been in front of her and had seemed to go well. She'd marked a few spots with the weird pen thing she used to label alterations, then stepped outside so I could take the suit off for the final time, at least until we got ready for the con.

I'd expected to feel relief at finally being rid of the suit, free of the weight and the heat and the alterations to my appearance.

Instead, I'd felt... exposed? Putting on my tee shirt and the athletic shorts I'd worn to the studio, it didn't feel like I was free of a burden, but instead like something was missing. I'd place a hand where the bump should be, and it was absent, and the lack of constriction around my back and my not-boobs was almost more unsettling than its presence had been when I'd first donned the suit.

I hadn't stuck around at the studio long after changing out of things, lest I got roped into sitting in on the restream (it had happened before,) and as soon as I'd gotten home, I'd stripped down and put a tank on under my tee, just for some sense of similarity to how I'd felt the prior two days.

"Yeek! That was close. Let's go back to town and heal up. Then I think we're high enough level now to tackle the first dungeon and take on the Dark Knight Tinsel. Chat says... thanks for the bits Donovenn! And thanks for the follow! Don't forget, folks, our goal for the month is twenty-five hundred subs. If we can reach that, then I'll go for a hardcore run through Living Undead 3! Anyway, chat chat chat," I frowned. "I already said 'no' to the makeup thing, guys." I rolled my eyes and stood up again. "Seriously, look at me. I'm not a girl," I said, plopping down in my chair. "Even if I play one in games."

I turned my attention back to the game at hand, knowing full well that my statement would be ignored. It wasn't the first time I'd told them flat-out that I wasn't a girl, and I doubted it would be the last.

"All right, healed up, re-stocked on healing items from the shop just in case. Let's head toward the castle." I looked at chat again and groaned. "No, I don't mean I'm a full-grown woman. LarryT, you've been subbed since I was at like 20 subs. You're not helping. Folks, I'm..." I sighed and set my controller down on my desk.

It wasn't anything I wasn't used to. This was just Chat being Chat, and I knew it. But sat there in my tee with another tank top underneath, still feeling strangely incomplete and confused over the last two days, knowing that didn't help.

I sniffled, and realized, to my surprise, that I was crying.

I was crying on stream.

I sniffled again and sat up, wiping my eyes. "Guys... y'know what? I can't deal with this right now." I saved my game and closed it, then gave chat one last look before clicking the sign-off button in the stream window.

Chat, of course, was going wild. There were people defending me, people laughing, and people complaining. My mod team was trying to wrangle them, but it wasn't helping any.

"Did she quit?"

"She can't quit. I just donated 20 USD, ripoff!"

"Haha little baby crying 'cause chat was mean, loser."

"Is she okay?"

I shook my head and tried to laugh, but it came out more like a sob. Even my mod team were calling me 'she' and 'her' in their responses.

Why did I even bother?

I ignored all the pings and PM requests I was getting and sent one final message in mod chat, letting them know I wouldn't be talking to anyone for a couple of days. On impulse, I added that I was canceling Monday's stream too.

I hesitated before hitting send, wondering if what I was doing was a bad idea, but shook my head and hit the button anyway.

I shut down my computer, and once more leaned back in my seat, and this time, simply let myself cry.

I don't know how long I was sitting there, just softly crying and feeling sorry for myself, but I let out an embarrassingly shrill "Eep!" when I felt someone grab my shoulders. I looked up, and there was Brian's upside-down face, looking back with a sad smile.

"You okay?" he asked, squeezing my shoulders gently as he kept my chair in its leaned-back position.

"Yeah?" I reached up and wiped some of the tears off my cheek and couldn't help but laugh. "No. Just being stupid," I said, tapping his hand until he let me go. I sat up and spun around to face him right side up.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked, pulling over my guest chair and plopping down across from me.

"Not really, but yeah." I let out a long, slow breath and leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Just stressed. The convention, and Jonah, and streaming, and... we're down five percent in merch sales over the last month compared to the previous one. What does that mean? And Syd sent me some screenshots of a troll who's causing issues in the community forums, and Maria's annoyed because the folks at ATG asked her not to use some homebrew monster she's been working on for our campaign, and...."

"And?"

"And I just..." I wrapped my arms around myself and sat back up, looking anywhere but at Brian. "What am I doing, Brian? Everyone in chat was going on about the bodysuit, and my mods are doing polls for makeup, and it's all--I know it's meant to be fun, but."

I was sniffling again and didn't even flinch when Brian crouched in front of me and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug I didn't want to want. Nevertheless, I found myself relaxing as he held on.

"It sounds like a lot to take in," he said, his voice rumbling through his chest.

"Yeah," I said in muffled agreement, headbutting his shoulder gently to get him to let me up. He did so but stayed crouched in front of me instead of sitting back in his chair, his face only inches from mine as he watched me.

"But?" he asked gently, with just the slightest hint of amusement.

“But," I agreed. "It's always a lot. But that's part of the whole streaming business, y'know?" I sighed and sat back, closing my eyes.

I heard the sound of a shifting chair, and then Brian had his arm around me again, this time from the side. I let him pull me over until my head was on his shoulder, but only let it stay there for a second before sitting up again and giving a harrumph.

"And this," I said, glaring at him and waving down at us. "Like, what is this? Are we…? And your cousin?"

Brian actually had the nerve to laugh. "Hey, I said sorry about Lorne, but what was I supposed to tell him?"

"That I'm a guy? And your roommate, not your…" I paused, trying to decide how to continue.

"My girlfriend?" Brian asked, somehow still smiling.

"That."

Brian chuckled, then moved into a full-on laugh when I glared at him. "Leigh, do you think he would have believed me?" he asked, then before I could answer, he continued. "Or what about that lady at the gas station on the way home? Or the ladies at the grocery store? Or," he pointed at my computer. "Do they believe it?" Brian moved back a bit, until only his hand remained on my shoulder, and gave me a long look.

I shook my head but said nothing.

Brian was right, after all. People would believe what they wanted. I knew that: I'd known it for a long time. Even when we were in college, we'd gotten comments about being a couple, sometimes from Brian's actual girlfriends.

Maybe I could have helped that a bit if I'd been more prone to dating too, but... why? I had my friends, both guys and girls, and that kept my social calendar full on its own. Like, I hadn't *not* dated, mostly girls, but out of curiosity, I'd gone out with a couple guys too, and it'd been fun, but not anything I couldn't do with Brian, or Maria, or Syd or Deedee or even Aaron.

You could argue that sex was more an option with someone I was dating than one of my friends, but if that was all I was dating someone for, then I might as well just go on a date with my hand.

As far as my streaming audience was concerned, me and Brian might as well be married. He'd been part of the background since the beginning, and I'd had him on for local multiplayer games a couple times every year since. He was always bringing me water or popping in to make sure I didn't need anything, because that's just Brian, looking out for others.

What were they supposed to think?

I sighed. "I did something stupid," I said, staring at my hands.

"Oh?"

I nodded. "I sent my mods a message saying I was canceling Monday's stream. I just, I know I shouldn't have, but--"

"Yeah, you should've."

"What?" I asked, turning to face him again.

Brian squeezed my shoulder again and nodded. "If things have you this stressed, then taking some time off is the right decision. You were already planning on taking next weekend off anyway; just call this starting your vacation early."

"But the metrics."

Brian chuckled. "Yeah, you'll lose some subs. But you didn't really wanna play Living Undead anyway, and the hype train for the convention is gonna make up for some of that too."

"True," I agreed, finally smiling.

Brian looked away for a moment, then nodded to himself. "Monday off and keep it open. I think... yeah."

"What?"

"It's a surprise," he said, now grinning from ear to ear.

"Brian...."

"Nope! A surprise," he said again, standing up from his seat and pulling me up in the process. "So, just relax. Turn off your phone, call it an early night, and then you can spend all day tomorrow fretting about what I've got planned for us."

"I don't fret!" I said, only a little fretfully.

Brian just gave me another hug, and this one, I returned with yet another sigh.

"There's plenty of time to worry about everyone else later, 'kay?"

"...Okay," I agreed, pulling back and looking up at him. "Just promise me no dirt roads this time, all right?"

"No dirt roads," Brian agreed. "And come on out to the kitchen. I was just about to nuke some frozen lasagna."

Oh joy.

-==-

NOTES:

As per usual, the next chapter is now available over on the BCTS Patreon if you wanna check it out there! Wednesday Knights is free to read on the Patreon, but if you're over there and want to use the opportunity to contribute monetarily to the site, it's always welcome :)

Kudos and comments appreciated; I'll do my best to get back to you on them.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 11 -- B-Minus

On any normal day, someone walking into my bedroom would be greeted by a whole lot of boring. Plain white walls, in deference to not wanting to re-paint when we eventually move out. Twin bed with no headboard, a burnt orange comforter and matching checked pillowcases (or an equally earthy red on off weeks,) discount store rug so my feet don't freeze on the faux wood slat linoleum when I get up. A couple statuettes from special editions of games, and my little bookshelf, stuffed full of tabletop game manuals and the few board games I kept at home instead of in the communal collection at the studio.

Normally that would be it. No clothes lying about, no dishes. A clean place that I mostly only stayed in long enough to sleep and get dressed. Most of my personal belongings that really conveyed personality were kept in the spare room we'd turned into an office and used to give it the proper "gamer" feel for streams.

I say all this to emphasize that the piles and piles of clothes on my bed, floor, and the spare kitchen chair I kept around were not normal, nor was my agitation as I moved things back and forth and searched my wardrobe for something, anything, that felt right.

Brian had been cagey for the last two days about what we would be doing today. All he'd told me was to be prepared to be outside most of the day, which in itself set some hard limitations on wardrobe given that temps were supposed to be in the high nineties with lots of sun.

My first inclination was a pair of shorts and a tank, but thanks to preparations for the upcoming convention, that meant putting my legs, arms, and everything else on full display. I knew it was silly to worry about, but still.

That was what I was dealing with as I stared at myself in the mirror on the back of my closet door and frowned.

I'd showered the night before, and yes, I'd re-upped the shaving routine, because I wasn't gonna deal with scratchy stubble until after the convention if I could help it, embarrassment be damned: shiny legs were preferable to grasshopper legs any day of the week, so I'd only go through that when I had to.

Then there were my tank tops. My collection came in two flavors: tight, or loose. The tight ones were what I would normally wear as an undershirt and had been doing more so than usual for the last few days, but they were, well, tight. That wouldn't be a problem if I didn't feel like the result was an emphasis on not-boobage that I absolutely wouldn't have been concerned with only a few days ago, but now I couldn't seem to keep from noticing every time I dressed.

The loose ones more or less had an opposite but similar problem. I had a few old-style basketball jerseys and other tanks that would hang loose and not emphasize my body shape, but that looseness included broad necks and open arms. In other words, the clothes didn't hug me, but I showed enough bare skin it didn't make a difference.

I could wear a regular tee, or a loose button-down, over one of the regular tanks, but that was extra layers. If they were light enough, extra layers were fine, but in the southern Louisiana humidity, extra layers didn't tend to stay light for long, and once you were soaked in sweat, you'd stay soaked until you changed.

There was the third option, and that was two tanks: a tight one, with one of the looser sports jersey types over top. It solved the problems of both, but it introduced an obvious problem of its own: the bottom tank inevitably wound up looking like I was wearing a bra under the outer tank.

Even going without a tank and *just* wearing a loose tee or button-down wasn't a perfect solution either. Not only had I firmly gotten used to the lower layer as part of my normal attire, but there was still the humidity to consider: if I wore a tee without a tank beneath, the heat and humidity would mean I'd look like I'd entered a wet tee shirt contest, and I'd be just as exposed as in just the tight tank. Heck, that was part of the reason I had the tight tanks in the first place. As for button-downs, all of them I owned were too heavy for the weather or in dark colors, another killer in the heat.

I growled in frustration. Why was it that even without the baby bump on, it was still messing with my head this bad?

If we'd done this last Monday, I wouldn't have thought twice about just wearing one of my tanks, but between the body suit and Brian's comments about my shape with or without it, my self-consciousness was through the roof, and all I could see when I looked at myself in the mirror was the looming threat of perceived boobage.

Maybe if I asked him nicely, he'd change our plans to something where I could wear a hoodie or something else to cover up more, like a tour of a meat packing plant or something?

Then I thought of the sparkle in Brian's eyes each time I'd seen him sneaking around and planning yesterday. Whatever he was planning, he was excited for it, and for us to be doing it together.

I huffed again and went back to picking through what I had.

Finally, I decided to say screw it. If I was going to be self-conscious no matter what I wore, then I may as well be cool. I grabbed an old Pelicans jersey I'd stolen from my dad, and on impulse, paired it with one of my tighter tanks that came as close to matching the navy blue in the logo as I could. It was going to be obvious I had another shirt or something on underneath no matter what color I chose, so it might as well be something that would both match and not show any moisture stains from the day as badly.

With that decided, I dove into my shorts. I could go with board shorts, athletic shorts, or just about anything, but settled on a pair of khaki shorts I couldn't remember the last time I'd worn.

Strip, strip, don, don, bam. Once again, I was standing in front of the mirror and looking at myself.

The two tanks did, indeed, look less like two tanks than a tank over a sports bra, but I was resigned to the fact that was going to be the case already. I had forgotten how long the Pelicans jersey was, though, and was surprised to see it almost completely covered my shorts, leaving only a couple of inches of khaki material poking out underneath.

"This is a stupid idea," I told myself, even as I lifted the jersey and cuffed the legs of my shorts up a couple of times on each side, then dropped the jersey again.

Yep, that did it. No more shorts showing at all, just six inches of bare leg above my knees, then the jersey.

Committed now, I finger-brushed my hair back into the same loose style I'd put it in on Thursday and grabbed the oversized prescription sunglasses Maria had talked me into getting, but I never wore, off my chest of drawers, sliding them on, then up onto my forehead.

I looked back at my image and did my best to view it objectively.

Slim arms. Slim legs, long for my height but with no real definition, and smooth from shaving the night before. My torso was mostly shapeless thanks to how the jersey hung, but the tank underneath hinted at an attempt to cover something of greater importance than was actually there and combined with my bony but not particularly wide shoulders, there could be a shape there or not, who knew.

And my face was my face.

I turned from side to side, studying myself, then slumped a bit and sat on my bed, suddenly exhausted.

"Maybe I'm the one who's wrong," I mumbled, flopping back and kicking my feet into the air. I stared at my toes and wriggled them a bit, trying to decide if whatever Brian had planned would be a shoes or sandals deal.

As if I'd summoned him, I heard a rap-rap-rap on my door, followed by Brian's voice. "You decent?"

"As I ever am," I called back, then sighed. "Come on in."

From my angle, I couldn't see Brian enter, but I heard the door open and heard him laugh. "Trying to walk on the ceiling?" He asked, moving into my line of sight and giving my legs and feet an amused glance. "Or decide on a toenail polish color?"

I frowned at him. "Well, I wasn't, but since you bring it up." I dropped my legs and grunted in annoyance. "This is all your fault."

"All what?" He asked, still grinning.

"This," I said, waving down at myself.

Brian gave me a once over, and his grin, if anything, grew wider. "Cute?"

"That's what I'm saying!" I groaned, throwing my hands in the air and then letting them fall straight out across my bed. "If your stupid penis hadn't gotten me knocked up--"

"Hey!" He said but shut his mouth when I glared at him.

I sat up and braced my hands on the bed, scrunching my shoulders. Looking down, I saw what I expected to see, and flopped back again. "Brian? Be honest with me. Do I have boobs?"

"Yes," he said, without hesitation.

"I do not!"

I felt the bed creak as Brian dropped onto it. His back was to me, but I could see him looking down at my legs. "Then why ask?"

"Because for the last five days or so, I haven't been able to stop thinking about them."

Brian whistled. "Only five days? I'm going on probably fourteen years."

"Ha. Ha." I said, in as sarcastic a voice as I could manage. "I meant on me." I sat up again, but this time avoided scrunching my shoulders, choosing to bump Brian's shoulder with mine instead.

"You look good with boobs," Brian commented, followed by a muffled grunt of pain when I poked him in the ribs.

"I'm a twenty-five-year-old guy," I said. Not sure where to go with that, I stood up and started putting away some of the clothes I'd strewn about. Brian watched me for a few seconds, then stood and started helping, focusing on things that went in my closet while I folded and put away the stuff that went in my chest of drawers.

I was checking to make sure nothing had gotten kicked under the bed or mysteriously made its way into the living room when Brian grabbed me by the elbow.

"Text Carmen and ask."

"What?"

"Text Carmen and ask her about your boobs."

"I don't..." I started, then stopped. "I don' wanna," I finally finished, sounding whiney even to myself.

Brian shrugged. "All right, I will," he said, pulling out his phone.

"Don't you dare!" I gasped, reaching for his phone, but he easily kept it away from me.

"Well?"

I stomped my foot and jumped, trying to reach his phone, to no avail. "Ugh, alright! But I'm not asking her that. I'll, I dunno."

Brian smirked but lowered his phone. "Just ask her your cup size."

"... I can do that," I conceded, then walked over to my bedside table and grabbed my own phone.

**Hey Carmen, fight W Brian. What’s my cup size**

"She's not gonna answer this early," I said once I'd fired the text off. She would either be at work or--

DING

Or I could be wrong.

**34 B- :)**

I blinked. No way could that be right.

Without thinking, I hit the button to call her, and in less than two rings got an answer.

"Hey mija! Is everything--"

"What do you mean B minus?"

Carmen laughed on the other end of the line, the sound of machines behind her telling me she was probably already at work in her shop. "It's nothing to worry about, the right bra and--"

"Aunt Ceecee!" I snapped. Brian, who had been standing nearby and listening, jumped. I sighed and took a calming breath. "Sorry, Aunt Ceecee. I meant I can't be that big, can I? I thought you'd said I barely could qualify as an AA cup."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a long moment. "Sweetie, that was eight years ago. You've grown up a bit since then."

"And out, apparently," I grumbled, looking down at myself again. "That still sounds awfully big."

Carmen giggled on the other end of the line. "First time I've heard that! Oh, sweetie, it's nothing. It's not uncommon for young men to have some breast development. You may be a bit beyond average, but it's nothing to be..." She stopped. "Did Brian do something to you?" she asked, in a much darker tone.

Blink. "Ah, no, we were just--"

"Because I like that boy, but if he hurts you--"

"Nonono! It's." I sighed. "I'm okay, Aunt Ceecee. Just surprised, is all."

"Well," she said, then huffed into the line. "If he does, you just let me know, and I'll sew a pair of E cups into his next costume."

I glanced over at Brian, and, just for a moment, imagined what that would look like, and couldn't help but dissolve into laughter. "I'll tell him you said that!" I said, getting a nervous glance from him that I waved off.

"You do!" She said, laughing herself. "Are you sure you’re okay?"

"Yeah, I think... yeah," I said again, smiling. "Thanks."

"Any time, mija. I love you."

"Love you too, Aunt Ceecee. Goodbye."

"Hasta luego, sweetie."

*click*

I dropped my arms to my sides and gave Brian a long, cold look as things sank in for me.

"Hey, you okay?" He asked, moving closer and reaching to touch my shoulder, but stopping short.

I just stood there and silently thought.

I have boobs.

How many free shows had I given my stream followers, pulling my tee shirt tight to show I didn't? How many times had I flashed folks bending over wearing tanks in the past?

How many times had I flashed BRIAN, I wondered, giving him another long look. As if sensing what I was thinking, he took a step back and blushed.

I knew Carmen wasn't wrong, and that it probably wasn't as big a deal as it felt like. But it was one thing to think about someone like Aaron or Brian with a bit of extra chest, and another thing to think about it on me. On Brian or Aaron, it would just look like extra padding on the pecs, maybe a bit of baby fat.

"Ah, Leigh?" Brian said, working up the nerve to finally come toward me and touch me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and giving me a small hug.

I closed my eyes and took yet another deep breath, centering myself. "Sorry. I'll be fine. Just a paradigm shift, nothing to worry about, heh," I said, trying for humor, but even I could hear the note of desperation in my voice.

Brian gave me another little squeeze. "Hey, if things are too much, we can stay home."

I considered it, I really did, but shook my head. "No."

"You sure?"

"No," I said again. "But it doesn't sound like this is anything new. People have been telling me for years what I look like." I reached up and gave Brian's hand a quick squeeze before lifting it off my shoulder, pretending not to notice as his fingers brushed my ass on the swing down. I forced a smile and stepped away, looking up at him. "So, if I can't do anything about it, just deal with it, right?"

"Leigh...."

"Shoes or sandals?" I asked him.

"Hmm?"

"Do I wear shoes or sandals today? I don't know what we're doing. Do I need the foot protection?"

Brian studied my expression, then smiled himself and seemed to relax a bit, which helped mine to grow more genuine. "Sandals are fine. Don't forget sunscreen."

"I'll prep a bag," I said, walking back to my closet and reaching first for a pair of flip-flops before changing my mind and going for the leather strap sandals. "Sunscreen, a couple of towels, some water. A couple extra shirts?" I asked, looking over my shoulder to find him still watching me.

"Ah, yeah, good idea. I'll go grab a shirt and the towels and be right back."

"Sounds good," I agreed, strapping my sandals on and pulling my spare messenger bag out of the closet so I wouldn't have to unpack my normal one. "Oh, and Brian?"

"Yeah?" He said, stopping in the doorway and turning back to face me.

"Let's have fun today," I said, grinning.

"We will," he said, giving me a dazzling grin back. "Promise."

-==-

NOTES:

Another week, another chapter! Even as I post this Erin's getting part 12 assembled to go up on the BCTS Patreon, so if you wanna see what happens a bit early, feel free to hop over there and take a look!

Comments and kudos appreciated. *hugs*

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 12 -- Bog Bottom

It took me a while to figure out where we were heading. I'd lived in Bayonet for almost a decade, but I'd grown up further north, closer to Alexandria. Brian, on the other hand, had lived his entire life relatively local, and knew the back streets and little side roads like the back of his hand. He was avoiding the worst of them since we were in my car rather than his truck, but it was still an adventure of unnamed places that hadn't seen a re-pave in decades.

Me? It took me two months before I could make it from the studio to our apartment without my GPS on.

I didn't dare say anything about my confusion, not after Thursday, but I still felt myself relax when I started to recognize some of the roads we were on, even if I couldn't place where we were heading.

Then I saw the sign, and Brian hit his turn signal.

"No way," I said, laughing. I turned to look at Brian, and all he did was give me a wink. "Bog Bottom? Really?"

"Really," he said. "They don't officially re-open 'til next summer, but they're doing some test days, and one of my friends at work offered me a couple tickets a while back. I'd planned on seeing if you wanted to check it out after the convention was over, but thought you could use the escape, so." He shrugged and actually blushed a little.

I couldn't help but bounce in my seat a bit, excited. "Are you kidding? This is great!" I said, my face starting to hurt from how wide my smile was.

Bog Bottom!

As a kid I'd heard of the place, but my family always went to either Texas or Arkansas for our vacations, so I'd never been there. When I came down to Bayonet for college, it was on my To Do list, but I was bound for disappointment, finding out when I moved onto campus that the park had shut down a couple of years earlier due to the cost of maintenance being too high for the owners to keep up with. It was a shame: all the locals had nothing but good things to say about the place.

I'd heard a couple of years ago that someone had bought it and was planning on re-opening it, but nothing since.

Brian pulled onto another side road, this one much better cared for than some of the others we'd passed, and as the gates to the park emerged from the trees ahead of us, I couldn't help another happy bounce.

We pulled up to the gates, and a rather bored-looking security guard came forward, leaning down to look in Brian's window. "Sorry, folks. The park isn't open yet. Staff and special guests only."

"We're special guests," Brian said, pulling a thin envelope out of his pocket and handing it to the guard.

The guard opened the envelope, scanned its contents, and grinned. "Oh, you're Mister Venable then? And guest?" He looked across the car at me, and his grin grew wider. "Welcome to Bog Bottom, and thanks for helping us test the place out! Things are still rough around the edges, so you'll need this," he said, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a brochure he handed to Brian. "There's a map in there, updated this morning to show what rides and shops are up and what isn't. Park in the area highlighted in pink; the rest of the lot is reserved for work crews and materials still."

"Thanks. Don't get too hot out here," Brian said, glancing at the map.

The guard laughed. "Hey, new owners put A/C in the entrance hut. I'm good."

Brian laughed too, and we waved to the guard as we passed on through.

Even without the map, finding the section of the parking lot cordoned for guests would have been easy: it was the only part of the lot that was clear of debris and work vehicles. Instead, it had some thirty or forty miscellaneous vehicles parked in it, from family-sized SUVs to fancy sports cars and everything in between. I wondered for just a moment how many of the cars were 'special guests' like us and how many were the folks who would be working the rides and stores, but I didn't have long to think about it before Brian found a spot of our own and parked us.

My belt was off almost before the engine, and I was out the door with my bag on the hood of my car almost as quickly. Brian wasn't far behind me for speed, and while I double-checked the contents of my bag and applied some sunscreen, he laid the pamphlet out on the hood across from me, looking at the map.

"Looks like we'll have access to about two-thirds of the park," he said. "They don't have Bandit up yet," Bandit being the big steel coaster that so many commercials had featured back in the day, "but Smokey is ready for test runs between noon and three, along with some of the other rides, and they're opening some of the water park stuff after, looks like they'll let that run 'til they close up at five." He checked his watch and smiled. "It's only ten thirty. We made better time than I expected, so."

Happy with my double-check of our bag, I walked around the hood and joined him studying the map. "What's open this morning, then?" I asked, leaning in close to get a better look.

"Hmm. Looks like the go-kart track is available all day. Fright Manor is open, too: I heard they've torn down the original and built an all-new ride-along version, so that might be fun. And they've got most of the Bog Bottom Village businesses showing as open too."

"What's that?" I asked, looking at the solid quarter of the park's footprint straight down the middle that was color-coded as part of the village.

"It's sort of an old-timey crafts and... tell ya what, why don't we start there?" He asked me. "It's open all day, but we can check some stuff out, and if you see anything you like, we can stop back by and get it before we leave. Stretch a bit before doing any rides."

"Sounds like a plan!" I said, stepping back and clapping my hands together. "I'm gonna buy one of those big bear statues carved out of a log and make you carry it."

"Or you could carry it and I could take the bag of stuff," he said as he folded the map and slipped it into his pocket.

"Nope! My bag, my stuff. And I'll be carrying all the candles and crap anyway. My hands will be far too full to carry the bears."

"Oh, it's *bears* now?"

"Well, you can't have just one," I explained to him as we headed toward the second set of gates, these person-sized. "You need one for each side of the door. Like gargoyles."

"Mm-hmm," he said, clearly not buying it. "I don't think the super would let you keep those out on the landing."

"Hmmm," I said, pretending to think about it. "Maybe you're right. Hold off on the bears for now."

"Thank god," Brian said, sounding legitimately relieved, which set off my own laughter as we reached the second gate. Another guard stood here, but instead of checking us for tickets or anything just waved us on through, I guess assuming that if we made it past the first gate, we were good.

Anyone who's ever visited an amusement park knows that special feeling you get when you cross the threshold between the real world and the park grounds. It's an odd sense of passage, marked by a change in the texture of the sounds and smells like they're so much more on one side of the wall or fence than on the other.

Even in the heat, I felt a little chill as we stepped out onto the brick path beyond the gate and shivered.

Brian seemed to feel the excitement too, and I'd swear I felt an electric spark pass between us when he placed his hand in the middle of my upper back and just stood next to me, taking things in.

Despite its name, Bog Bottom was nothing close to an actual bog. The entrance of the park sat at the top of a long incline, with the pathways making a sort of long, narrow oval as they stair-stepped down and down. The result was a kind of large, cobbled courtyard, with old-timey-looking buildings crowding along its edges punctuated by additional pathways leading to the park's various sub-sections, narrower than the central loop but themselves still broad enough for parade floats and service vehicles. Tall trees filled in the space behind the buildings, giving the impression of the forest closing in, but the gleaming steel of the rides beyond jutted out of the treescape, breaking the illusion.

In the middle of the long oval was a large, raised dais, at least forty feet in diameter. I knew from the commercials I'd seen as a kid that the dais had at one time had a set of hangman's stocks along one edge, used as part of some of the shows that would be put on for visitors, but those hadn't been used since the 80s, and it seemed the new owners had made a point of removing them. At the far end of the oval, at the very bottom of the slope, was a long pier with a tall guard rail, bordering on one of the local rivers. Even after the park's closure, the pier had seen a lot of use, since Bayonet had leased it from the owners of the park every year as the launching point of the city's own fireworks show. I imagined the city was more than happy to let the owners take over the expense for that!

My eyes must have been a mile wide because Brian took one look at my face and laughed. "Yeah, it's pretty neat," he said, moving his arm to around my shoulders and gesturing around the park. "The coasters are both to the left, down that first path. Then just down from there is the go-karts, and the last path on that side leads to the water park rides."

He shifted to my other side, swapping arms, and continued to point. "Over here, you have the kiddie rides first, then the mansion and a few of the other more carnival-type things, and then down near the shore, they've got another, longer boardwalk out of sight behind the buildings, with more of the games and amusement stuff. At least, that's how it used to be," he said, frowning just a bit and pulling out his map.

It really did look fantastic, though the overall effect was marred a bit by its clearly unfinished state. Several of the "old-timey" buildings' illusions were broken by half-assembled facades and construction equipment sitting in the middle of the paths in front of them, ropes and tape directing us away from getting too close, and temporary barriers stood in front of the paths Brian had mentioned leading to the coasters, water park, and amusement games.

And so few people! What shops weren't under renovation had friendly folks milling about in front, and from our vantage, I could see a few small groups of people, mostly in threes and fours, exploring, kids laughing, adults smiling. But it was almost eerily quiet: no music over the loudspeakers, some of which were still sitting on the ground, ready to be mounted. No announcements. No constant low roar of thousands of people in proximity.

"It's like visiting a ghost town," I said without thinking, once again getting a chuckle from Brian.

"A bit, yeah. But hey: no waiting in line for anything!"

"True!" I said, laughing too. Then something caught my eye. "Oooh, how about we start there?"

"You lead the way," Brian agreed, and I grinned excitedly as I led him toward our destination.

That was how we spent our first forty minutes or so in the park: walking from little shop to little shop, checking out what they had for sale. It was mostly what you would expect: cheap souvenirs, with or without the Bog Bottom name plastered across them, 'old time' craftworks that almost all had stickers on the bottom proclaiming their Chinese origins, and things like that. In between those, you had the businesses that tried to show the old ways of doing things, and were halfway between stores and shows, with hands-on crafts for things like candle-making, an old printing press where you could use the blocks to create your own stationery and even a blacksmith's furnace.

The buildings that were still seeing maintenance were almost universally the restaurants that would normally populate the square, but there was a funnel cake stand open, and another selling hot dogs, soft pretzels, and soft drinks, so we weren't completely reliant on the bottles of water we'd probably broken rules by bringing in.

We looked, but I didn't buy anything, not yet. We had hours to go in the park, and the last thing I wanted was to walk around all day toting things I could have picked up right before time to leave.

Once we had checked out all the little shops, it was time for some rides.

"Go-karts?" Brian asked, a bit too casually.

"Hmmm," I said, remembering the last time I'd gone go-karting with him. I tapped my lips with my finger as I thought. "How about we save the go-karts for last and use them to dry off after we check out the water park rides."

"You just want to tire me out first," he accused, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes," I agreed without hesitation. "Last time we did go-karts, you pit maneuvered me."

"You were in my way."

"I was a lap behind you!"

"And in my way," he said again.

"I... you...." I was trying to stay mad, but I was failing. He wasn't helping either, giving me his best look of faux innocence.

"Don't smile."

"Shut up!" I said, my composure finally cracking as I began laughing. "S'not funny!"

"Well, then I guess we can save go-karts for last," he agreed. "But."

"But?" I asked, wiping a couple tears from my eyes as my giggle-fit faded.

"But only if you make me a promise."

"Oh? And what's that?" I asked, doing my best to sound confident despite still wanting to crack up.

"Ya gotta promise that if I win...."

"What?!" I asked, anxiously.

Brian grinned. "I'll tell ya after."

"That's not--"

"Promise?"

"Brian!" I whined, to no avail, as he just stood there, arms crossed and with that confident smirk he always got when he was planning something nefarious.

"Go-karts last," he finally said, giving me a Look. "We've still got a while before the coaster opens, so, Fright Manor and some carnival games, or check out the other rides first?"

"Regular rides first," I said, still not sure if I'd won on the go-kart argument or not. "Then the coaster should be open, and we can do the haunted house and the carnival stuff after until the water rides open?"

"Deal." Once again, he put his arm around my shoulder, and we began walking back toward the top of the courtyard, side by side.

I looked around, seeing the occasional couple or family doing their own thing too. The paths leading to the rides and amusements certainly seemed busier than the courtyard itself, but given how few of us there were in the park, that wasn't much of a surprise.

Then I looked up at Brian. Catching my gaze, he smiled and gave me a little squeeze, and I found myself smiling back even as I wondered just what the hell we were doing.

Growing up, my family was always very touch-ey. Hugs were given multiple times a day, foreheads were kissed, backs and shoulders were rubbed. Brian seemed to have had the same kind of upbringing, and as our friendship had cemented,we'd long gotten over any sense of awkwardness over touching each other’s arms, or hugging, or anything else.

But when had that changed into this, I wondered, even as I chose not to object to being tucked into Brian's side as we walked despite the heat.

I'd noticed it when we were out on Thursday, but I didn't think that was the first of it, just like it wasn't the first-time people had assumed we were together as more than just friends: it was just the first time in a long time I'd given any thought to it.

I thought about what we must look like, and truth be told if I'd seen two people walking together like we were, 'just friends' probably wouldn't have been my assumption either.

So, why wasn't I pulling away?

I looked around myself again and sighed. It was damn hot, but there was a breeze coming off the river, bringing with it the smell of the water, and a hint of the funnel cake vendor's wares. I checked out the facades of the buildings, the ones that were up and the ones that were still under construction and thought about how much work went into putting on the appearance of one thing while underneath, something else was going on.

Once again, I looked up at Brian, but his attention seemed to be on something else entirely. Turning to track his gaze, I saw an older man walking along with a woman, his arm wrapped around her much like Brian's was around me. The two of them were talking, laughing, and smiling at each other in that way that comes from a lifetime of love.

When I looked up again, Brian's attention was on me, his own eyes and smile saying....

Saying what?

I smiled back, and that seemed to satisfy him.

"They used to have this horse-drawn carousel that, hey, they still do!" He said happily as we walked down the path to the rides. With a gentle nudge, he directed me toward a pen to the right of the path, and beyond it, I could see a white-and-red carousel roof. Instead of the horses and unicorns, I would have expected to see hanging beneath it, though, there were simple wooden swings, only two of them occupied, with the only horse in sight being a tall Clydesdale, clip-clopping along around the outside of the carousel. On his back was a rider in full cowboy gear, holding a long rope attached to a ring attached to the carousel's rim, and as they rode around, he was keeping tension on the rope, so that the horse's slow but steady trot kept the carousel itself moving.

When the rider noticed our approach, he gave us a grin that went all the way up to his temples. "Heya! Line's around the corner, another loop, and we'll be ready for the next group."

Brian gave him a wave in thanks, and together we walked further down the fence to where it attached to an old log shack, or what looked like one. Inside the shack was a turnback line, with a single other couple, a man and a woman, and their toddler waiting.

"When I was little, this was the first ride my grandma would always take me on," he told me as we walked through the line. "She said it had been here since she was little, back when this was a logging camp."

The woman ahead of us turned to watch us approach and smiled. "My grandpa used to do the same when I was little. I'm so happy I get to bring Sandy here to ride it too," she said, tugging gently on the hand of the toddler at her side, who seemed more interested in watching the horse than paying us any mind. "My grandpa passed not long after the park closed, but it's a bit like having him in her life, you know?"

"Yeah," Brian said, squeezing me tighter against him. "Grandma passed when I was in high school, but she always told me she hoped she'd get to bring my kids here too."

I didn't need to hear the touch of strain in Brian's voice to know to hug him back.

"Do you two have any--" the woman started to ask us, but thankfully her question was interrupted by a whistle from the direction of the carousel.

"Thank you for yer patience, folks; right this way, and we'll load up," the gentleman in the cowboy outfit said, riding up to the end of the line on his horse. "Opposite sides of the carousel, helps it balance that way."

The woman and her husband waved at us before walking toward the carousel, pulling the toddler along behind her. who was watching the big horse in awe.

"You two, over here," the cowboy said, directing us to another bench swing.

The swings set a bit off the ground, and I was trying to figure out how best to climb on when I felt Brian's hands on my waist. With a quick twist and an "Alley-oop!" he spun me around and had me on the swing.

"Eeep!" I managed, in embarrassment or surprise or both, then let out another of mild alarm when Brian hopped up on the seat next to me, setting the bench swinging.

"Everyone aboard?" The cowboy asked, looking to the other couple and then to us. Satisfied, he trotted the horse back to the rope, and with a call of "One horse power!" and a whistle, we were off, the carousel slowly lurching to almost silent life.

As the world softly began to turn around us, Brian's arm once again rested around my shoulders.

This time, I didn't question it at all.

-==-

NOTES:

Chapter 13 is already live over on the BCTS Patreon page!

https://www.patreon.com/posts/wednesday-13-ol-82114458

All my stories (currently) up on the Patreon are free for anyone to read, so be sure to stop by and check things out!

Thanks in advance for any and all comments and kudos!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 13 -- Ol' Smokey

The best-laid plans never seem to survive contact with reality, and so it was with our day at the park.

We had just finished taking a spin on Swamp Thang -- think teacups, but with swamp boats, faster, and the whole thing constantly tilting at odd angles -- when the member of the staff running the ride gathered everyone they could find together to let us know that the opening of the coaster would be delayed for about an hour and that the water park wouldn't be opening at all due to technical issues.

A few people were disappointed at the news, especially some of the kiddos.

"Hope this doesn't ruin your day at the park," Brian said, seeming honestly worried.

"Are you kidding?" I laughed, giving him a quick hug. "Brian, this has been great so far. So what if a few rides are down: that just gives us reason to come back sometime, right?"

"Right," he agreed, laughing too. "Any time."

With the delay to the coaster opening, we decided to re-work our itinerary a bit, and after we were finished sampling the other open rides, we made our way to what Brian called the 'carnival district' of the park.

Like the central courtyard, there was still a lot of work being done in this part of the park, with a number of the amusements only half-way renovated and not yet open. To make up for it, one of the small amphitheaters had been kitted out with a few of the boardwalk games that would usually be down near the shore, and we managed to keep ourselves busy with a mixture of carnival and arcade games.

I even let Brian win a few of them.

Eventually, the time for the roller coaster to open began to loom, so we made our way toward our last stop in the carnival district: Fright Manor.

"When I was growing up this was just a regular haunted house, and a kinda hokey one too," Brian said. "From what Frank told me, though, it's one of the attractions the new owners have spent the most on."

"Frank?"

"My friend who got us the tickets. And it looks like he was right," Brian said, looking up at the edifice before us.

"I'll say!"

Our entire time hanging out in the carnival district, we had seen hints of Fright Manor in the background, looming just beyond the trees on the east side of the district. It wasn't until we approached that the place really began to make its presence known, though. Bottles hung from the trees, clinking away in the warm breeze off the river, and whether through careful gardening or barely controlled chaos, the grounds that separated the manor from the rest of the district had a definite oppressing presence to them.

The manor itself, much like the rest of the park, was still somewhat under construction. While the main facade on approach from the park was there, giving the impression of a proper spooky plantation house, there were still a number of places along the expansive wings where the concrete and steel inner walls of the structure were visible, not yet covered with either their decorative veneers nor grown over with the plant life that was obviously intended to help disguise the more industrial extensions on the structure.

Still, I could see what they were going for, and I imagined the place would be pretty unsettling once it was finished.

Most of the rides and amusements we'd gone to, we had been accompanied by at least a couple of other people, but when we walked through the large double-doors at the front of the manor, we found nobody there but a bored-looking attendant, leaning on a podium near the front.

When she noticed us, the attendant shuffled to her feet and did her best to put on a happy expression. "Hi there, welcome to Fright Manor! Sorry for the less-than-terrifying entryway: we're still getting a lot of the actual texture of the place in order. That includes a lot of the features along the way, but we're open for folks who want a preview of what we're planning!"

"So, the ride's not finished yet?" I asked, as though the stacks of building materials and the smell of paint in the lobby didn't make that clear enough.

"Not nearly," the attendant said, her shoulders slumping in her park-issue polo. "Like, the RIDE ride is, but it's this sort of Pirates of the Caribbean deal. We've got all these dioramas and animatronics, and... it's being a butt," she admitted.

"Bugs in the system?" Brian asked as we came to a stop in front of the podium, the girl making no move to rush us into the waiting cars.

"Literally, in some cases," she said. On seeing our expressions of confusion, she continued. "The designers didn't take into account the local wildlife when designing some of the maintenance accesses, so it's been an adventure as they've tried to figure out how to keep the frogs and snakes and lizards and everything else from gumming up the works or making it too dangerous to keep running. The ride's all fun and games 'til what you thought was a fake creepy-crawly tries to climb in the car with you."

I looked at the low side walls on the cars in question, and just imagining what might try to get in with us made me shiver, probably more than anything the ride could show us would.

"Sounds like maybe we shouldn't do this one," Brian said, giving me a worried look.

"Oh, it's safe!" The girl assured us, waving her hands and looking upset. "I didn't mean to drive ya off! Right now, they're keeping the lights up so that things are super-visible, and I've got monitors right over here behind the wall letting me keep an eye on pretty much everything," she said, waving to a section of wall that jutted out next to her podium. "So, if there is a... there won't be a problem," she said, realizing she wasn't really helping.

I wasn't convinced, and from the look on his face, neither was Brian. "How long is the ride?" I asked the girl.

"It's about ten minutes right now: it'll be longer when they have all the features in place, and they slow the speed of the cars down?"

I looked up at Brian, asking the question.

He looked back down at me.

As if to confirm our decision, a loud bang followed by a gruff "Sonuva!" from somewhere out of sight but inside the structure caused both of us and the girl at the podium to jump.

"Damnit, Dave, what's it this time!" She yelled down the tunnel, only to duck and shriek when a barn swallow flew out and over our heads, darting out the door. Right behind it came a dirty man in a pair of coveralls.

"Did it leave?" He asked the girl, then turned to us before she could answer. "Did it leave?!"

"Ah, yeah. Flew out the door," I said, pointing with my thumb.

"Good," he said, then sat down on the rounded front of one of the cars. "Damn things keep trying to nest in the haunted swamp section."

"Isn't it a bit late in the year for swallows to still be nesting?" I asked, looking over my shoulders back toward the exit.

"You askin' me?" The man shrugged and wiped his forehead with a grimy work rag. After a moment, he seemed to realize we were guests, not other workers, and tucked the rag away and blushed. "Ah, sorry, folks. Were you wantin' to, ah," he looked down and patted the side of the car he was leaning on, leaving a greasy handprint on the dark red paint.

"I think we'd decided against it," I admitted, catching Brian's nod in my peripheral vision. "But thanks."

"You sure?"

"We're sure," Brian said, even as we were already backing toward the entrance. "Maybe next time."

"Probably for the best," the guy agreed, wiping his forehead with his bare hand this time.

"Thanks for coming by anyway," the girl attendant said, giving us a friendly wave.

We waved back, then turned and got out of the place as quickly as we could.

I waited until we were clear of the cyprus trees with the bottles before looking back over my shoulder and grinning at Brian. "Maybe hokey was better?" I asked him, getting a choke of laughter in response.

"Yeah, well, they've still got, what, nine months to work out the kinks?"

"I'm less worried about the kinks than the skinks," I said, less laughing than giggling at my own joke.

"Skinks? Oh, heh," he agreed, giving me a quick hug around the shoulders. Like at home, his hand caressed my ass on the way down, this time seemingly less by chance than the first.

Even less by chance, I felt his fingers brush the side of my hand.

I looked up at him again, but his eyes were looking anywhere but at me, even as I felt his fingers brush the back of my hand again.

I looked away too but turned my hand palm-up, fingers open.

A second later, I felt his questing fingers slip across my palm and gently take hold.

Another look his way, another expression of determinedly not looking back at me, though his fingers did squeeze my hand gently.

I squeezed back and looked forward again. Whatever was going on between us, for the moment, I was content to just let it be and figure it out later. After all, this was my day off, I was supposed to be relaxing and enjoying myself.

And I was, I reminded myself with a contented smile and a bounce in my step.

The barriers were still in place, letting guests know that the paths to the roller coaster were still closed, but there was already a group of people huddled outside them when we arrived.

"Any news?" Brian asked one of the other men, a tall, balding fellow in a faded polo shirt.

"One of the workers came by about five minutes ago, and said it would be about ten minutes from then," the guy said, double-checking his watch. "Y'all enjoyin' the park so far?"

"Yeah," Brian and I said at the same time, getting me a hand squeeze and a grin from him. "It looks like they're putting a lot of money into the place."

"Betcher ass," the man said, getting a dirty look from a woman nearby who was there with a young boy. "I'm Charles Wilkins, head of marketing," he said, giving our clasped hands a glance before offering his own hand to Brian.

"They want me to get a feel for the place so I can start working on some early ad campaigns." He kept a grip on Brian's hand after their shake and leaned in close to us. "Between you and me? I don't know if they can get everything done before opening day. But hey, when are things ever done on time?" He asked, then leaned back and laughed.

Brian laughed too. "Yeah, the haunted house...."

"Ah! Don't even get me started on that shithole," the man said, getting another nasty look from the lady with the boy, who covered his ears and led him over to one of the nearby shops. "I tried to tell 'em that nobody wants animatronics nowadays, they'da been better off investing in one of those three-dimensional virtual rides, but the new owners really wanted a Haunted Mansion equivalent for some reason, and see what it's getting them. I don't--"

"FWEEET!"

We all turned to watch as a trio of workers approached us from beyond the barrier, the lead woman dropping her whistle as she neared.

"All right, folks, the time you've been waiting for is here!" She said, the other two workers taking position near the barrier, ready to move it. The whistle had done its job, catching the attention of park-goers further away, and she gave the crowd a few moments to coalesce before continuing.

"A few rules before we open the barriers. Ol' Smokey is in fine working order, but you'll still see equipment around for the work on the water park and Bandit: please stay clear of any machinery you see, even if it's not active.

“Likewise, for the test period, we're only going to be running a maximum of three cars at a time: I know a lot of you were looking forward to not waiting in lines today, but them's the breaks," she said, getting a few chuckles from the crowd. "Now, keep calm and walk, don't run, to the coaster. Fellas?"

The two workers with her took hold of the sides of the barrier and swung it open, and without another word, the woman with the whistle turned around and began to head back down the path, leaving us to follow.

"So, what's special about Smokey?" I asked Brian as we walked along.

"It's an old-style wooden coaster, the oldest one in Louisiana," Brian said.

"Not as old as the carousel," I asked, a little worried.

"Hah! No. The first version of Ol' Smokey went up in the nineteen fifties. They re-worked the whole thing in the late nineties when they built Bandit, but I'm not sure what all they've done to it since re-opening the park."

"I can tell you that!"

"Hmm? Oh, hey Frank!" Brian said, giving the worker approaching us one of those one-armed back-slapping man-hugs. "Didn't know you'd be here today!"

"Well, they got me doing some tests on the reinforcements to Bandit's structure, make sure they're up to modern code," Frank said, his eyes sparkling when he saw me standing next to Brian.

"Sounds fascinating," I said, only half-sarcastically.

"Oh, it is," Frank agreed, eyeing me hungrily. "Though there are certainly more fascinating sights in the park. Francois Pinchot," he said, offering me his hand.

"Ah, Leigh," I said, taking the offered hand and getting a surprisingly gentle shake in response.

"Venable?" He asked, giving Brian a sideways look.

"No? Serrano."

"Fascinating indeed," he said, letting go of my hand and stepping back.

"Frank...."

"What?" He asked, chuckling at Brian's scowl. "You know I have a thing for sporty girls," he said, his gaze traveling to my jersey but his focus clearly on what was underneath.

"I'm not a, I mean I'm not that," I trailed off, blushing as both men looked at me. Brian squeezed my hand again, but I could tell he was torn between annoyance at Frank and wanting to laugh at my reaction.

I wasn't torn at all and glared at both of them.

Frank chuckled, then turned his attention back to Brian. "I think you've told me about her before, haven't you? Your roommate, right?"

"Yeah. Leigh's had a rough week, 's why I asked for the tickets today. Thanks for that, by the way."

"Hey, what are friends for it not sharing, right?" Frank asked, looking my way again.

I frowned and pulled my hand from Brian's so I could cross my arms across my chest. "I'm not property, Francis," I said pointedly.

"Francois," he said, his smile faltering a bit.

"I kinda like Francis," Brian said, putting his arm around my shoulder. I glanced up at him and saw something in his eyes that made me feel a little scared... but also set some butterflies in my stomach.

Frank coughed. "Ah, my apologies, I... sorry," he said, giving me a respectful nod. "I hope you two enjoy the coaster, and just let me know if you want tickets again." With a dramatic gesture he lifted his arm and looked at his watch. "I should get back to work. See you back at the office?"

"In a couple weeks," Brian agreed, relaxing a bit.

"Sure. You two take care," Frank said, then walked off.

We continued standing there for almost a minute, I think neither one of us sure what to make of what had happened, until finally I felt the tension in Brian's arm relax as he began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" I asked, frowning up at him as he shook with restrained humor. "He was a creep!"

Brian gave me a squeeze and a little nudge to get us walking again, and after only a moment of stubbornness I went along with it. "Yeah, he's always talked a big game at work, and I knew a lot of the women at the company avoided him, but I didn't figure he'd be that blatant, especially...."

Pause.

"Especially if he thinks we're on a date?" I asked, surprising myself by finding the nerve to say the quiet part loud.

"Yeah," Brian agreed, squeezing me again.

We walked along in silence for a little while. Most of the crowd we had started out as part of had passed us by during our conversation with Brian's "friend," and I could hear the coaster starting its first run some way ahead of us, the clanking of the carriage accompanied by some loud but generic country music.

I thought about our day so far and smiled.

"I've had worse dates," I said quietly, reaching up with my left hand to take hold of his where it sat on my shoulder.

As we came closer to the old, converted lumber mill that made up the entrance to the coaster, I couldn't help but think about something Brian had said earlier in the day.

"Brian?"

"Yeah?"

"Now will you tell me what you want if you win at the go kart track later?"

"No."

"No?!" I dropped his hand from my shoulder and spun to face him, walking backwards as I did so. "I won't agree if you don't tell me."

"You won't agree if I do," he argued, giving me a cocky wink.

"So, it's something embarrassing?"

"Maybe at first," he agreed, in a teasing tone. "But honestly? I don't think you'll mind it once you get used to it."

The butterflies in my stomach returned. "It's not... dirty, is it?" I asked, blushing.

Brian looked to the sky dramatically, pretending to think about my question. "I suppose that depends on how much of a prude you are. You might wanna turn around."

"Hmm? Oh!" I said, turning around just in time to stop myself from backing right into the rear of the line of people waiting for the coaster.

Brian's hand was in the middle of my back again as I thought about what he had said, and the possibilities for what he was thinking.

In the distance, I heard a girl screaming as the coaster raced along its course, and I knew that soon enough, that could very well be me, yelling at the top of my lungs as we zipped around the curves and over the hills. Somehow, I doubted the adrenaline rush would help calm down my fluttering pests at all.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I thought I had a good idea of what Brian was planning on asking as a forfeit if I lost....

And I intended to make him earn it.

-==-

NOTES:

As per usual, the next chapter is now up on BCTS Patreon! We're approaching the half-way point of the story too!

Comments and kudos welcome and appreciated.

Melanie E.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 14 - Forfeit

*Bzzzzzzzzt*

I released the buzzer and waited, hoping the third time was the charm. I was about to hit it again when I heard a click, and the speaker next to the panel of buttons came to crackly life.

"Door's open, come on up," said a low-quality version of Maria's voice, as I heard the chunky clonking of the electric lock on the main door release. I didn't hesitate to push the door open and head up the flight of stairs to her landing, knowing that if I wasn't quick the door was prone to locking itself again. Once there, it was a short jog to her apartment and in the door, locking it behind me.

"Gimme another half an hour, would ya?" Maria asked from her kitchenette, accompanied by the smell of brewing coffee.

"I can give you a whole one," I agreed, making my way toward the smell to find her leaning on the counter with her eyes closed. "If you promise not to fall back asleep."

"No can do," she said, but gave me a sleepy grin. "But I'll try. Not every day you ask me to go shopping with you."

"Yeah, well," I frowned and sat down at her counter, pulling a mug off the little copper mug tree she kept there as much to keep my hands busy as in anticipation of coffee. "I don't wanna make this shopping trip alone, and I wasn't gonna invite Brian along," I said, a little more heated than I'd intended to.

"Oh?" Maria said, perking up. She turned her attention back to the coffee pot just long enough to slide the pot out and replace it with her mug in one smooth, well-practiced move. "You didn't tell me what we were shopping for last night, but it sounds like you're still pissed about whatever it is."

"I'm not pissed!" I said, pissily, then sighed. "I'm *not.* Just... it's stupid."

"Can't be any more stupid than the half hour I spent arguing with Craig yesterday about whether I could use a monster based on the Balrog without having to get the Tolkien trust's permission," she scowled, bringing the pot over to fill my cup too. Craig was the name of the Knights' lawyer, and Maria's nemesis. "So, what is it?"

I blew on my coffee, both to cool it down a bit and delay having to say anything. "I need to buy underwear," I finally said, fighting through the blush.

Maria chuckled. "Okay, and why does this require my help?"

"Not underwear underwear," I managed, feeling like my face was ready to pop from the heat. "I... women's underwear."

Maria's chuckles turned into full-on giggles. "Aunt Cici finally break you down, huh? No?" She tilted her head as she thought. "It doesn't sound like you want to do this."

I sighed. "It's... it's Brian's fault!"

"How is it his fault?"

"He beat me at go karts and now I have to buy panties," I mumbled, torn between indignance and shame.

"Waitasec, what?" Maria shook her head, still giggling like mad. "What happened?"

I took a sip of my coffee with shaking hands. "It's... Brian challenged me that if he beat me at go karts, I'd have to do something he asked me to, and he won, and told me he wants me to buy... panties... to wear under my costumes for the weekend."

"Sounds like you made a stupid bet," Maria said, sipping her own coffee.

"Well, I didn't think he was gonna ask me to buy freaking panties!"

"What did you think he was gonna ask for then?" She asked me, her grin widening as I felt my blush somehow escalate to a new level of strength. "Oooooooh. Do I need to tell Sydney her ship has arrived?"

"What do you--no! It's not, argh!" I pushed my cup away and thonked my head on the counter, hoping it'd knock some sense into place. "I was caught up in the day, okay?"

"So, it was a good day at the park then?"

"It was... yeah. It was great," I agreed, lifting my head enough to cross my arms beneath it and turn to face Maria's way again. "Still about half-finished, but we had a good time, and."

"And?"

"And... okay, so I may have gotten the impression that Brian might want to... but I was wrong. He just wanted to tease me."

"That's what guys do when they like you," Maria said, shrugging. "Like when Devon used to tug on your shirt tail whenever you'd stand up."

"That was fourth grade, and Devon was a twerp."

"A twerp with a crush."

I shook my head. "Whatever." I raised back up and grabbed my cup. "It doesn't matter anyway."

Maria slid her stool over and gave me a quick squeeze. "Sure, it does. You wanted a kiss and didn't get one. It's perfectly fair to feel disappointed."

I opened my mouth to argue but closed it again as I thought about what she'd said.

Was that really what I was angry about? Not the whole underwear thing, but the kiss thing?

Immediately my mind went to thinking about Brian, holding my hand tightly as I screamed in joy on the coaster, and the anticipation I'd felt about....

I shook my head. "I'd as soon kiss Jonah," I argued, remembering just as clearly the look of delight on Brian's face when he'd explained the terms of his victory.

That got Maria giggling again. "He'd probably like that, actually!" She said, punching me lightly in the shoulder. "Lunea, breaker of all the men’s hearts."

"I'm a man too," I pointed out, rather weakly, getting an eye roll from Maria in response.

"Well, now I know what we're shopping for, I've got Ideas," she said, sliding away a bit to give her elbows more room on the counter. "But first things first: are you sure you're okay with this?"

"I guess I agreed to it."

"Nuh uh," Maria said, shaking her head vehemently. "No guessing, no putting it on anyone else. I'm not gonna drag you from store to store while you mope about and act like some kind of martyr."

"Maria..."

"Aaaaht!" She said, cutting me off. "My aunt didn't make you do this, and Brian can't either. Either you're doing this because you're willing to, or you're not. So, what is it?"

I tried to glare at her, but my heart just wasn't in it.

I sipped my coffee again and thought.

And thought some more.

Maria, for her part, went back to her own coffee and let me be. When her first cup was empty, she filled it again, but this time left me in the kitchenette and headed for her room.

Feeling a bit restless, I stood up and walked around Maria's apartment while I waited on her.

Maria's place was smaller than mine and Brian's, a little one-bedroom affair with her computer shoved into one corner of the living area, piles of paperwork scattered around it and her sketch table set up to the side. As a kid she'd always had a sketchbook in hand, and I knew that it had been her dream when we'd headed off to college to be a big-name illustrator one day.

Now, instead, I saw the drawing table plastered with print outs of other people's art, with names and contact information. Artists the company wanted her to consider for the source book they were producing for the world she ran our game in. Next to their art were a few half-finished sketches of her own, done in the snippets of time I knew she struggled to find between working on everything she took care of for the Knights.

How many of us had sacrificed any semblance of the lives we'd expected in the name of the game?

Sydney worked our socials full-time, and Deidre I knew had a meeting today with a new supplier who wanted to try and buy out our clothing contract. Jonah used to spend a lot of time organizing our tech upgrades and editing, but as our staffing needs had grown, had sort of organized himself out of a job, and I had no idea what he did in his downtime now.

Brian still put his mechanical engineering degree to work now and then, in between side projects and helping the rest of us manage our parts of the business, and I... well, I had my own streaming to deal with, and the bills, and making sure everyone got paid, and....

I'd gone to college so I could teach, and I paid the yearly fees and took the yearly tests to keep my certifications up to date. I'd always planned on getting a job at a little elementary school somewhere, spending my days helping eight-year-olds figure out their multiplication tables and all of that.

Instead, the only math or history I taught anyone was whatever applied to my character sheet.

It seemed like the only one of us actually using their degree for much was Aaron, but I knew that he was struggling to find the time to keep up with the social work he did with the local kids in between the extra shows he was trying to do for the company too, all in service to the all-powerful metrics.

I sighed and sat down on the edge of the hide-a-bed, already unfolded and made up for Aunt Cici's arrival in the afternoon. Sometimes she'd make the drive down and back when she helped us with our costuming, but more often than not she'd stay the night in Maria's apartment, since the drive back home was long and lonely.

Still looking around, my eyes landed on Maria's bookshelf. Unlike mine, hers were almost floor-to-ceiling, stuffed with books on mythology, fantasy, and entire collections from multiple game systems, a few I'd never even heard of, all for research into what was once a hobby for us and now a full-time job.

Standing out from the books, however, was a single framed photo that made me smile. It was me and Maria, standing side by side and hugging each other, grinning like crazy and holding the golden streaming icon we'd received when Wednesday Knights had reached a million followers a couple of years ago. Brian had snapped the photo for us before we'd all headed out and gotten horrifyingly drunk in celebration, all of us waking up the next morning sprawled across the hide-a-bed I now sat on or Maria's floor, including Jonah.

I'd woken up in Brian's arms, and the rest of the group had been quick to give us a hard time about it, but there wasn't much to say either: we'd all passed out fully clothed, and to this day as far as I knew it was as simple as us passing out side-by-side and slipping into that position while we slept.

I'd objected to all the teasing, of course, going red in embarrassment -- about as red as I'd been earlier in the morning talking to Maria about having to buy panties. But Brian had remained cool about it, shrugging and smiling and having a good time.

I looked at the photo again and remembered that the entire time me and Maria were standing there grinning like fools, Brian was grinning right back at me.

It wasn't a grin like he'd given me when he told me what my forfeit was for losing the go kart races. No, that was his shit-eating 'I just got you' grin.

The grin he gave me over the streaming icon was more like the one he was wearing when he was holding my hand, the one where his eyes would sparkle and the right corner of his mouth would raise just a little more than the left, showing off his dimple on that side.

The one he was wearing when I thought, just for a little while, that maybe he wanted to kiss me.

"Stupid panties," I mumbled as I stood up, feeling like I'd been calling a lot of things stupid lately and wondering unkindly if I should admit that the common denominator to all of them was me.

"You say something?" Maria called through her door.

"Just talking to myself."

"'Kay."

I walked back to the kitchen and, having nothing better to do, washed my coffee cup in Maria's sink as I thought some more about today's trip.

Brian's grin after letting me know what he wanted for his victory was short-lived, and the ride home after was almost completely silent. I was annoyed, and I was hurt, and I was one hundred percent sure of why on the former but completely unsure of the reason for the latter.

No, that's a lie. I knew the reason I felt hurt.

I'd wanted Brian to kiss me.

And I was pretty sure he wanted that, too.

When I'd left that morning, he'd given me a look that seemed like it held just as much pain as I felt, so maybe he still did?

Did I still want it, too?

I shook my head and sat back on the stool I'd taken when I'd first entered the kitchenette earlier, elbows on the counter and chin in my hands.

I didn't want to want Brian to kiss me. I didn't want to think about wanting Brian to kiss me, or to think about him kissing me, or holding me, or....

"Blurgh," I grumbled, as the thoughts came anyway.

I'd rather stay pissed off about the panties, I reminded myself, but instead found I wasn't so pissed off about them at all anymore.

Maria was right, after all. There was nothing Brian could, or would, do about it if I didn't buy them, or even if I did buy them but didn't wear them.

On top of that, he was far from the only person who'd ever tried to talk me into them. Maria had tried when we were still in high school, mostly because she'd thought it'd be funny, and Aunt Cici had been trying to talk me into changing over for years, mostly for costumes, but there'd been hints she thought they'd fit me better anyway.

I'd texted her for my sizes before leaving the house that morning, so I had all the numbers I needed if I decided to do this.

I'd have Maria by my side for moral support and, inevitably, some mild teasing about it all.

And there was nobody who was going to make me do anything I wasn't willing to do.

For a moment I considered not doing it specifically because people, especially people named Brian, wanted me to, but I quickly chided myself for how petty that was. Brian was teasing me when he announced his expectations, but I also knew that he'd be the last person to judge me for going through with it too.

I was sure that anyone watching me would see steam rising from my ears as my brain worked overtime to try and decide what the right call was.

I was still thinking it over when Maria walked out of her room, dressed to de-stress in a pair of cutoff sweatpants and a baggy tee with flip flops. "So, what's the call?" She asked me, walking over to the sink to wash her own cup.

"I think," I said, then paused, letting the last of my thoughts settle into place. "I think we start off by going somewhere and getting something cheap and basic, then head back here, and see how I feel."

"Cheap and basic what?" Maria asked, gently pushing.

I sighed and stood up from my stool. "Let's buy me some panties," I said, feeling the blush rise again but mostly keeping it in check.

Maria gave a little squeal and rushed me with a hug. "This is gonna be so fun, hon! Trust me."

"Just don't tell Aunt Cici," I asked her. "She'll never let me live it down."

"She'll find out tomorrow anyway, assuming you go through with this."

"True, but that's a problem for Future Leigh. Right now, Present Leigh is overwhelmed enough."

"Fair. Probably means a g string is out of the question then."

I whimpered in answer, which set Maria to giggling.

At least I knew one of us would be having fun with things.

-==-

NOTES:

https://www.patreon.com/posts/wednesday-15-by-82825247

For anyone who wants next week's chapter today! It's free, but feel free to donate if you feel inclined :)

As always, comments and kudos appreciated.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 15 -- Final Fitting

"Stop it."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Well, stop it anyway," I said, glaring at Brian for a brief moment before turning my attention back to the road. He still had the same stupid smirk plastered across his face he'd been wearing when I'd gotten back home the day before, bags in hand, not all of them particularly subtle about what was inside.

I was never going underwear shopping with Maria again.

"Are they that different from--"

"Brian!"

"Road!" He croaked, grabbing the dash as I had to slam on the brakes to keep from plowing into the rear bumper of the car ahead of us. "Alrightalright, sorry."

I grumped a bit, more to hide my embarrassment than in actual anger.

I'd intended to keep things simple on the shopping trip: a pack of cheap women's undies, in, out, done. Maria, however, wasn't content with that.

"If you're gonna get 'em, be serious," she'd said, and after we'd made the stop for the cheap and cheerful ones, she'd dragged me to a couple of the stores she preferred, the kind of stores that I'd always walked briskly past in case someone thought I was a perv for looking at the manikins in the windows.

I'd never figured I'd own anything from those stores myself.

I was wrong.

I did have to admit, though, there was a degree of method to Maria's madness. She'd assured me the cheap-o pack we'd picked up -- high cut bikinis, at her suggestion -- would be comfortable enough, but that if I was going to make a habit of wearing women's underwear I needed to know a bit more about what styles I liked and didn't, and materials. She'd also insisted that if I was going to be buying lingerie (her term) to wear with my costumes, then I needed to "embrace the sexy" and get something that would make me feel right from the skin out. The result was more than just underpants in the lurid pink, green, and silver bags I'd brought home.

I could have said no. I probably *should* have said no. But....

I squirmed in my seat again, not out of discomfort, but out of confusion at the lack thereof, I guess.

In the end, Aunt Cici was brought into the fold via a quick phone call to confirm the things she thought would work best with the costumes she had planned, and a few "extras" she felt that I should have as well, for Reasons. I was wearing one of those extras now, what Maria and Cici had called a tee shirt bra. They'd assured me that it would minimize the chest I was now all too aware I had and, so long as I wore a tank over it, wouldn't be obvious under any of my tees or anything either.

It was soft. It had wide straps, and little hooks in the front, and the last thing I was about to admit to *anyone* was the immediate reduction in jiggle I hadn't even realized was a problem only a week ago.

I felt like an idiot. I felt like everyone was going to notice what I was wearing. I felt like I was doing something wrong. But damn if I didn't also feel less exposed, and if Aunt Cici hadn't been right: the panties *did* fit better than even the men's bikinis did.

I glanced toward Brian as we pulled into the lot at the studio, and wilted a bit when I caught the look of regret on his face. Sure, he'd called the forfeit, but he hadn't actually done anything to force me to do it, and I'd been surly at best with him for almost two days now.

I pulled into our normal parking spot at the studio and shut the car off, but before Brian could climb out I locked the car doors. A symbolic gesture at best, since they'd automatically unlock if you pulled the handle from the inside, but it caught Brian's attention.

"Leigh...."

"No, can I, let me go first," I said, unbuckling my seat belt and turning to face him. Brian gave me a smile, but I could see a wariness behind it that set off a pang in my chest. "Listen, I'm sorry I've been such a--"

"No, I should never have--"

"I know you didn't mean it like--"

"I thought it'd help and be fun but--"

"Brian."

"Leigh."

We both stopped talking at the same time, and I found myself staring into Brian's eyes, my heart skipping a beat as he reached out and touched my shoulder, just for a moment, before dropping his hand again.

Sigh.

"Just..." I stopped talking again, taking some time to figure out what I needed to say. "I don't... you weren't *wrong,* I don't think," I finally said. "It just feels like everything's being super weird all of a sudden, and…"

Brian nodded. "You always freak a little before conventions," he said, the tension fading in his eyes. "But maybe the baby thing was a bit much."

"A bit," I agreed, rolling my eyes at the understatement. "But it's also a fun idea. I don't know if I'd have agreed to it if I'd known Aunt Cici had something like it planned, but I think it's gonna be popular with our followers and--"

"Leigh."

"Hmm?" I asked, the bit of agitation in Brian's voice throwing me off.

Brian sighed. "Don't... I'll back you up if you want to tell Cici and the others you've changed your mind about the baby part of the costume," he said, pushing his hair back from his face. "And I'm sorry -- I am -- that I've pushed you even more about things after."

"You didn't--"

"I did," he said, cutting me off. "I thought... it doesn't matter what I thought. Or think," he said, glancing down at my chest just long enough for me to scowl at him, which only made him smile even more. "Just like it doesn't matter if the stream loses every follower it has. I want to know you're comfortable with what you're doing."

I think I surprised both of us by laughing at that.

"Comfortable?" I said, unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice. "Brian, when am I comfortable with anything?" I closed my eyes and laughed a little more, more to myself than anything. "If I only did what I was comfortable with I'd still be sitting in my room at home, playing my Game Kid and refusing to interact with anyone."

"You had a Game Kid? I didn't get a handheld 'til the TS," he said, laughing along with me.

"Phillistine," I said, but smiled at him. He reached out and rubbed my shoulder again, and I couldn't fight the urge to reach up and give his hand a squeeze before dropping it on the back of my seat.

I thought about what Brian was saying. In a lot of ways it was the same kind of thing Maria had said to me the day before... and in the end, I had to answer it the same way.

"I think I need to do this," I said, looking him in the eyes. "I think I need to see where this goes, because it feels like it's important?"

"I'll be here for you no matter what," he said, and I could see in his eyes the truth in his words.

"I'll hold you to that," I said back, quietly, as we kept looking at each other.

*KNOCKKNOCK*

"Eeek!" I squeaked and jumped in my seat, turning to the front of my car to see Sydney leaning on the hood, watching us.

"Either start making out or come inside," she said, rapping on the hood again and giving us a shit-eating grin before turning around and heading toward the building.

I gave Brian one more look. "Shall we?"

"Make out?' He asked me, waggling his eyebrows, which set off my laughter again. By the time I'd recovered he was already out of the car and around to my side, waiting to hold the door for me when I finally opened it.

-==-

I looked at the two garment bags Cici was trying to hand me warily.

I knew what was in them. I knew they fit. I knew how to put them on.

They still scared the hell out of me.

"I promise you, mija, you can handle them," she said, giving me a one-armed hug and laying them in my limp arms. "Do you have your makeup?"

"Yeah, I picked it up from Maria's yesterday," I agreed, still unsure.

"Bien. Use the color guide I gave you for the princess gown from last convention for the dress for tomorrow morning, and the guide for the emerald robe for the one on Friday, and I'll give you a touch-up when you get to the hotel." She gave me another, longer hug this time. "Oh! I wish I were going on the boat with you!"

My nerves relaxed as she continued to hug me, and I finally freed one of my arms to hug her back, laughing a little. "Maybe next time, Aunt Cici."

Aunt Cici let me go and looked like she had something more to say, but was interrupted by one of her assistants calling her over to the temporary barriers they'd set up giving each of us a smaller, more private changing and fitting area. I think that assistant was working with Deidre. Aunt Cici gave me a long look, then left my little room, closing the curtain behind her.

With Aunt Cici gone, I carefully hung the garment bags from a piece of conduit running along the wall and sat down on the single chair in my own little area, taking a deep breath.

Four dresses. *Four. Dresses.*

Okay, so it was more like three dresses, since I wasn't sure the fourth really counted, being more like a fancy sorceress' robe. That one was something else: it was a deep crimson velvet for the most part, it had a train, and I was one hundred percent sure I wouldn't be able to risk eating or drinking anything the entire time I was wearing it lest I ruin the damn thing.

The other three were less worrisome, but still far from anything I would say I was excited to wear.

Aunt Cici had truly gone above and beyond this time around. For the first day on the boat she'd designed me something she claimed was similar to a dirndl, a cobalt blue with a white blouse underneath that she said should be easy to wear but also fit my character. To fantasy it up a bit she'd paired it with a light cape and hood in a matching blue, but with silver symbols sewn into it to give it a more mystical look.

I could see why she wanted me to use the same makeup colors as I had with the gown from the last convention: it was a very similar blue, but I was already thinking of ways I could change up the look a bit, since I didn't want to deal with the high-maintenance look we'd done with that gown.

For Friday she'd surprised me again, with a dress that seemed like a similar style, but this time in a dark green, with a brown blouse for underneath. Instead of a cape, though, she'd paired this one with a handful of props to go along with my character's magical abilities, like a leather belt covered in pouches, some of them full of things like cotton fluff and bits of string, and a silver diadem with orange and red jewels in it.

Those were the two dresses that now sat in the garment bags beside me, along with notes on which lingerie she expected me to pair with them and the pair of long brown boots she'd paired them both with, *thankfully* with a very low, flat heel. Shoes had long been a point of contention for us on my costumes, but I was glad that even Aunt Cici didn't want me trying to wear something silly on a boat.

Saturday's outfit was a long, white dress that Aunt Cici told me was based on an early nineteen hundreds lingerie dress. "It's very anachronistic, but you kids have guns and airships and magic in your game, so I'm taking creative license," she'd told me when I'd asked about the time period. Unlike the other outfits for the weekend, this one went all the way up to my neck and fully covered my arms as well, and was paired with another short cape and hood, similar to the one for Thursday's dress, but in white.

As much as Sunday's dress scared me for its slinkiness and material, Saturday's scared me for an entirely different reason. Seeing myself in the mirror wearing it I hadn't been able to resist a comment about how much like a wedding dress it looked, and the sparkle in Aunt Cici's eyes at the thought was enough to chill me to the bone.

Thankfully, both the Saturday and Sunday outfits were safely out of sight, secured on a costume rack somewhere outside my little booth and set to make the trip to the convention in the back of a van, giving me a merciful two days before I'd have to think about either one again.

My musings on my fashion future were interrupted by a light knocking on the thin barrier in front of me. "You decent in there?" Brian asked.

"Sure, come on in," I said, standing up and, for some reason, double-checking my appearance in the long, thin mirror one of Aunt Cici's assistants had set up in the booth.

Brian peeked through the curtain before opening it up and stepping inside, closing it behind him. He had a garment bag of his own draped over one arm, bulkier than either of mine.

"Only one bag?"

"Yeah, she made me some new armor and leather pants, but said I have most of what I need at home already," he said, waving a list in his free hand before glancing at my own garment bags. "She sending all of yours with us?"

I shook my head. "Those are just for the boat trip. She's got Saturday and Sunday out on the rack."

"Four different costumes?" He said, then chuckled. "I guess that makes sense for a princess, doesn't it."

"I guess," I said, trying not to pout a bit. "None of mine have armor or anything with them, though."

"Your fault for playing a squidgy mage," he said, grinning.

"You say that, but she didn't give me any armor for my cleric last campaign either."

"Did you ever ask her to?"

"I... shut up," I said, fighting not to laugh at the goofy looks Brian was giving me.

"She spends more time on your costumes than anyone else's except Deidre's," he said, hanging his garment bag next to mine.

"Yeah, Aunt Cici's always loved dressing me and Maria up. You wouldn't believe some of the Halloween costumes she made us growing up."

"Disney princesses?"

"No!" I snapped, blushing. "I mean, she *wanted* to, one year, but we nixxed that," I said. "We did dress as our game characters a few times, but I was playing a lot of rogues and rangers at the time, so it was a lot more pants and cloaks than anything else." I thought for a moment, and frowned. "And even *then* she never made me armor!"

Brian laughed. "I'm trying to imagine like a fifteen year old you running around dressed like Jonah's idea of a rogue, and it just doesn't work."

"Ugh, never," I huffed, crossing my arms and glaring at him. "Nitara wouldn't stoop so low."

"So even then it was girls' costumes?"

"I... I mean, technically?" I shrugged. "I dunno. Aunt Cici's designs have definitely gotten more...."

"Feminine?"

"I guess," I admitted, "as we've gotten older." I thought about all the bits of my costumes from high school that I'd kept and worn on occasion as regular wardrobe, like the leather vest she'd made for Nitara or the bracers for Killi, and for the first time wondered just how much of that read more girl than boy to everyone else around me.

"Deep thoughts?"

"Nah, just embarrassing ones," I said, sliding down to sit cross-legged on the floor. "Now you've got me wondering what kind of costume she would have given fifteen-year-old me for Lunea."

"Probably something with a higher neckline."

"Maybe not," I said, smirking as I thought about the lingerie dress again. "But yeah, I don't think she'd let me show as much skin as she has me show now, most of the time."

"Shame."

"What?"

"Nothing," Brian said, a rare blush of his own showing. "Ah, hey, I'm gonna go get us some tacos," he said, after a few awkward moments, then left the booth, leaving his garment bag with mine.

Had he really...?

I shook my head and laughed. We hadn't even set out on the boat trip yet, and already this whole convention ordeal was off to an embarrassing start.

Idly, I cradled my baby bump. It had been the first thing Aunt Cici had given me to put on, and I had been entirely unsurprised when she'd asked me to wear it overnight to get used to it again before the trip. I knew that a second bodysuit and bump were in the bag with the dress for Friday, too, and she'd told me she had a special one for Sunday, something that filled me with even more dread than the gown for that day.

Today. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday.

Was I really about to be dressing as a pregnant half-elf princess for four, make that four and a half, days?

I was glad to be already sitting on the floor when the wave of dizziness hit me as what I was committed to finally sank in.

-==-

NOTES:

The usual, folks! The latest chapter is available to read over on the Patreon page right now!

Comments and kudos welcome.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 16 -- The Golden Goose

There were many things that had me on edge Thursday morning.

There was the makeup I'd spent half an hour getting right. Not that most people would consider that too terribly long for cosplay makeup -- and it wasn't -- but it was hardly my normal morning routine.

There was the way the lingerie I'd swallowed hard and steeled myself before donning felt next to my skin. The cotton stuff from the day before had been one thing, but today's set was some kind of stretchy silky material that was distracting for a number of reasons.

There were the thigh-high stockings I hadn't noticed in the bag until I was getting dressed that morning, and the way I'd kept having to try and find secret moments to tug them up slightly ever since putting them on, since the stickum around the top didn't seem to appreciate my nervous perspiration.

And there was the way that Brian's eyes seemed to keep getting drawn to the hem of the skirt on my dress, which had seemed a good foot longer in the mirror Wednesday than it felt sitting in the cab of Brian's truck.

The fact that I outright knew he'd gotten a panty shot when helping to lift me into the cab didn't help either.

I was used to some of those things, even the skirt, since I'd dealt with them in the past for other cons. Even Brian's gaze wasn't really anything new since seeing me in skirts always seemed to amuse him.

Still.

I did my best to ignore the feeling of the thigh-highs rubbing together as I crossed my legs and kept my gaze determinedly out my window, not even risking looking forward lest I catch Brian in my peripheral vision.

The night before had been better than the prior two, at least. We'd gotten pizza on the way home and just chilled in the living room, playing games and watching movies, almost like old times.

Almost.

So what if maybe our hands had lingered in the popcorn bowl together for longer than normal? And it wasn't a big deal that when I'd been startled by the jump scares in the movie, Brian had given my arm a squeeze of reassurance rather than teasing me.

Maybe it was worse that I fell asleep and woke up with my head on his shoulder, but it also wasn't the first time that had happened, was it?

I shook my head and went back to trying to count the trees as we zoomed past, something to stop thinking about all the things I was noticing and what they might mean.

"Are we there yet?" I asked, barely able to crack a smile at the banality of the question.

"Another ten minutes, maybe, and we'll be at the docks," Brian said, sounding just as out of sorts as I felt.

Not that what I was feeling was unpleasant. In truth, there was a large part of what I felt that I could chalk up to normal Con Jitters, though the idea of the overnight boat ride held some of its own anxiety-inspiring potential pickles. But, beyond all that, there was something else there, a feeling of....

Anticipation?

Realization?

Discovery?

I didn't know, but whatever it was, it was tying my stomach up in knots enough that I'd skipped breakfast, much to Brian's disapproval.

It was easy to find where we were supposed to go at the docks: all we had to do was find the crowd of out-of-place people in fantasy costumes and camera gear. Brian pulled into an empty spot right next to Maria's car, and almost immediately, people began to come toward us.

Brian's door was barely open before one of our show assistants was there to take his keys. That was all part of the plan: some of our show staff would be there that morning to collect our cars and take them back to the studio. From there, they would prep what they would need for recording the stage shows at the con and meet us there, and come Sunday night or Monday morning, we'd either bum rides off them to get back home or rent cars of our own.

While he was handling things with her, including showing her where my blocks were hidden behind his seat if she had trouble with the pedals, my own door was opened by none other than Aaron, looking very regal in his tabard and leather pants.

"M'lady," he said, offering me an arm and grinning as he helped me hop down from the truck, thankfully this time with no flashing involved.

"Good sir," I said back once I was safely on the ground, giving him a little dip before breaking out in what was probably a more giggly laugh than I'd have preferred. "I guess we're the last ones here?"

"Nah," Aaron said, leading me around to the back of the truck and unlatching the cover on the bed. "I volunteered to come down early with Maria. Deedee just got here about ten minutes ago and has been talking to the film crew, and Sydney still hasn't come in."

I reached into the leather satchel I carried with most of my costumes and pulled out the small pocket watch I kept in it. "Well, she has another twenty minutes before we were supposed to arrive. Thanks," I said, taking the two garment bags he handed me and watching him unload the rest of our bags.

"How much stuff did you bring?" he asked me, handing me my staff.

"Not that much!" I said, blushing and studying the stone in the top of the staff rather than looking at him. "Just a bag for accessories and makeup, and the garment bags for my costumes, and an overnight bag with some pajamas and casual clothes and other stuff just in case...."

"So all Brian has is the one bag?" he asked, holding up the garment bag from Brian's own costume and the belt that had his cosplay weapons on it.

"He just tossed his extra stuff in there," I said. "What?"

"Nothing," Aaron said, shaking his head and passing Brian's belt and bag to him as he came around the back of the truck sans keys.

"Thanks."

"No prob. Y'all need help taking these?"

"Nah, we got it," Brian said as he strapped his belt on and took both my smaller bags in one hand and his garment bag in the other.

"Sure thing. Looks like Syd's here so I'm gonna go check on her: Maria's waiting over there," Aaron said before jogging off, giving us one last wave on his way.

"You sure you don't need me to take one of those?" I asked Brian, looking at his full hands.

"Nah," he said again, hefting my bags easily and adjusting his garment bag on his shoulder. "'Sides, looks like they've got a cart over near Maria for our stuff."

"Oh, guess they do." I gave the rickety luggage cart a dubious look, but happily unloaded my bags onto it when we got there, Maria giving us a giant smile.

"Lookit, you!" She said, coming over and giving me a hug. "You look so cute!"

"Hey, what about me?"

"You look cute too," she told Brian, reaching up to pinch his cheek, though he backed away before she could. He certainly did look his part, in the "enchanted" wooden armor he'd been so stoked to show me when we'd gotten home the night before, with his olive-green gambeson underneath and mace hanging by his side. It had taken some work, but I'd even convinced him to let me do a little makeup work, too, adding just a little more definition in his cheekbones and some depth around his eyes, and a smidge of grime too.

"I love the new robe," I told her after she finished trying to chase Brian down. I meant it: Aunt Cici always made Maria these big, flowing wizard-y robes for cons, and she'd outdone herself this time around, the whole thing having this iridescent blue-green swirl to it and silver runes and stars picked out all over.

"Thanks! I do too. And best of all, this one's thin enough I shouldn't overheat in it," she said, holding one of the arm holes open so I could see the tank and shorts she was wearing underneath. "Not like that one from MagiCon last spring."

"Ooooh, yeah," I agreed, grimacing in memory. Weather predictions leading up to the con had been expecting cool temps, but Louisiana being what it is, we'd instead had one of those eighty-degree March weekends that pop up on occasion. Aunt Cici had made Maria a wool robe in expectation of the cold, and instead, she'd spent most of the convention either out of costume or guzzling water to deal with the warmth.

"Must be nice," Brian said, reaching up and tugging on the neck of his gambeson. It wasn't even ten in the morning yet, but I knew he must be warm in the layers of armor he had on. I knew Aunt Cici had tried to make everything light and breathable, but long sleeves in August in the bayou were a great way to ward off mosquitos and a terrible way to regulate body temps.

"Wanna trade?" I asked him, flipping the edge of my skirt his way.

He actually looked thoughtful for a moment. "Keep my own underwear?"

"Nope."

"No deal."

"Your loss," I said with a sigh, tossing the thankfully lightweight cape of my costume back over my shoulders.

I was just about to ask Maria a question about finances for the trip and remind her I'd need receipts from the crew when I noticed her looking off toward the other end of the parking lot with a surprised expression.

"Holy crap, he showed up."

"Who... oh!"

I turned to see what she was looking at and was just as surprised as she was to see Jonah climbing out of his beat-up Wrangler. He barely gave us a glance before opening the rear door and pulling out the long coat he always wore with his costumes and what looked like a small overnight bag.

"I honestly didn't expect you to show up," Maria said when he reached us and tossed his small duffel on the cart with the rest of our bags.

"Is that a problem?" Jonah asked, giving the rest of our group a look, his eyes lingering on me for a second too long.

"No, we have accommodations for you," Maria assured him. "But you didn't stay for any of the meetings, so we kinda assumed you weren't doing the boat."

"Yeah, well. I've been dealing with shit," Jonah said, for the first time I could remember actually looking a little apologetic. "But I'm here now, so." He shrugged, then looked at Brian again. "Nice armor."

"Oh! Thanks!"

"Looks kinda warm though," Jonah added, lifting his own jacket hanging over his arm for emphasis.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Brian said, seeming to stand a little taller and pointedly ignoring the bead of sweat rolling off his forehead.

Jonah gave me another look and frowned. "You certainly don't look too hot," he said, his gaze going straight to the generous cleavage the combination of the body suit and padded bra gave me.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. "Yeah, well--"

"It's pretty," he said, still frowning, but also... blushing?

What the heck?

"Ah--"

"HEY!"

We all turned to see Sydney rushing our way, a large bag thrown over one shoulder and her plastic battleaxe over the other. She'd added extensions to her hair, which now fell down to her waist in thick red braids, highlighting her bare midriff and the faux-fur-lined halter top she was wearing, a very much sexier version of the hide armor her character was depicted in our official campaign art. She was all smiles and only slowed down a little when she realized who was standing with us.

"Fancy seeing you here!" she said to Jonah after dropping her own bag off on the cart, which gave a dejected creak at the force of the drop.

Jonah shrugged and looked anywhere, but at the acres of flesh Sydney had on display. "Well, I'd have to be crazy to turn down a trip on the Golden Goose, right?"

"Sure thing!" Sydney said, giving him a slap on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble forward a foot. "Anyone been on the boat yet?" she asked the rest of us, turning to look at the boat in question.

"Not yet," Maria said, as the rest of us turned to look too. "They're loading supplies still. We're boarding here, with the crew, to make filming easier, then the boat will pull down the dock to another mooring point for the regular passengers."

I heard Maria's words, but now that I'd been reminded of the boat, I was finally taking a good, long look at it.

The Golden Goose was definitely impressive. I'd heard about it but never actually seen it, and was surprised at its appearance. I'd expected it to look like an old riverboat, with big wheels on the sides and a huge open deck. Instead, what greeted us looked more like a cruise ship, with deck after deck stacked on top and the paddle wheel itself being a huge, menacing-looking red thing strapped to the back end of the ship, towering as tall as the uppermost decks above it.

"She's got four floors above the level of the main deck," Jonah said, once again surprising us all. "Two of them are guest cabins, one of them is the dining and entertainment rooms, and one is exclusively for the casino."

"What's below the main deck?"

"Mostly storage, engines, bilge system," he said. "It's not just a passenger ship: it'd be kind of a waste given how much of the ship's interior isn't really suited for guests, so they also haul a lot of cargo along the coast while doing their tours. About half the stops it makes, they'll load and unload cargo while the passengers are off on whatever they've got set up for that stop."

"Huh," I said, watching the crew members using a small forklift to move some crates onto the ship. "Been reading up on this then?"

"Who'da thunk Jonah'd have a thing for boats!" Sydney said, going in for another shoulder slap that Jonah dodged this time.

We were all still looking toward the boat when I noticed a figure walking toward us from its direction, a tall, thin man in a suit.

"Looks like it's just about time to go," Maria said. "Everyone ready?"

"Yep!"

"Sure thing, boss."

"I guess so."

The man continued to approach us, and when he reached our group gave us all a big smile as he clapped his hands. "I take it you're the... Wednesday Knights, wasn't it?"

"That's us," Brian said, stepping next to me and putting his arm around my shoulder.

"Very good!" The man said, turning his attention to Brian and offering his hand. "I'm Thomas Sinclair, and I'm the one in charge of the production of this little special we're filming."

"Brian. And this is Leigh," Brian said, shaking his hand before pointing at me.

"Oh, you're Leigh!" The man said, looking surprised. "I apologize, I was told you were a man, so I assumed... well, anyway."

I frowned up at the tall man. He was almost as tall as Brian, but even wirier, and with a bald spot on his crown that gleamed in the morning sun. I immediately disliked him. "When are we getting started, Mr. Sinclair?" I asked him, looking back at the rest of the group, all of whom seemed equally unimpressed.

"Ah, yes. Well, they're just about finished loading the freight, then our crew will get things set up for your entrance. I'd wanted to have a script, but my employers assured me that you're all experienced with improv, is that correct?"

"It's kinda our whole deal," Aaron said, stepping up on my other side.

"That's good, then. I'll have one of my assistants come back over in about half an hour to get you, and we can get started then," Mr. Sinclair said, giving our group a small wave, then heading back where he'd come from.

I shook my head. "Does he not even know what he's filming?"

"Maybe not," Maria said, stepping up behind me. "ATG told me they had to hire someone new last minute after the guy they were bringing on got the 'rona. I'd offered to direct myself, but they said no, something about the licensing rights for the filming."

"I really need to read back over that contract when we get back home," I said, the squeeze Brian gave my shoulder doing little to calm the nerves I felt building up again.

"Sure thing. But for now, let's get ready for the boat."

"Sounds good to me."

"Already on it."

"Whatever."

I shook my head, then looked up at Brian, who was doing his best to give me a reassuring smile.

I'd been feeling relatively confident, but the director and his seeming lack of awareness of what he was even there to film had raised my hackles in a big way. We were half an hour out from boarding a floating casino and showboat for a thirty-ish hour trip, and there I was, wearing a short dress and realizing, for the first time, that I'd probably be having to show folks my ID if we spent any time in the casino at all.

Fan. Freaking. Tastic.

-==-

NOTES:

Chapter 17 is available over on the Patreon page if you want to get a head start on reading it. We're finally up to the trip to the convention! Woo!

As always, comments and kudos are appreciated.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 17: Belle of the Ball

I looked at the glass in my hand and frowned.

To be honest, I've never been much of a drinker. Sure, I'd had a wild night here or there with my friends, or the occasional wine cooler to wind down at the end of a long day at home, but I was normally a 'one-and-done' kind of person.

Unfortunately, it seemed the Golden Goose was intent to keep that 'one-and-done' at a 'none-and-done' level instead since every attempt to get anything alcoholic had gotten me dirty looks, and an orange juice or Shirley Temple pushed my way.

"Stupid baby bump," I mumbled under my breath, not for the first time, as I leaned back against the bar and surveyed the noisy room around me.

How do I describe my day aboard the Golden Goose?

It'd taken us five attempts before we boarded the boat in a way that our director was happy with, which seemed to be four more attempts than the staff on the boat had been ready to deal with. Likewise, he'd made us re-shoot checking our tickets, and our reactions to our rooms and the boat as a whole, multiple times as well.

It quickly turned what should have been a fun bit of exploration or discovery into a chore. In every case, an initial friendly interaction or bit of excitement had to be faked over and over until it "looked real" to him.

We'd all put up with that for the first three hours of the trip and through the first tourist stop along the coast. The little town with a fur trading post turned museum had been at least as annoyed as we were by Mr. Sinclair's insistence that we "get the tour right." He even made our guide re-shoot entire parts of her presentation.

I suppose it could have been worse: we had our own guide, and onboard the ship, there were a couple of ship staff assigned to help us out specifically to make accommodating the film crew easier. But even with those leniencies in place, none of us were at all surprised when, at around four in the afternoon, the ship's captain called us back to one of the staff rooms for a firm talking to about disrupting the normal operation of the ship.

He let us know in no uncertain terms that, while we were free to film, we were not in a studio or on a set, and any further disruption of the staff or other guests would get us all removed from the boat.

Mr. Sinclair didn't like that, of course, and impatiently chewed the captain out about his vision for the promotional video we were shooting and the necessity of the ship and all those on board to work to make that vision happen.

Thankfully there was cell service along the coast since it meant there was a car arranged to pick him up at the boat's next stop, and just like that, Maria got her wish: she was now the de facto director.

"Hey, Loonie, can I get a shot of you smiling? We're supposed to be having fun!"

I looked Maria's way, then at the member of the film crew next to her. I gave them my best 'go to hell' sneer and almost flipped them off, but instead just went back to my drink.

"Well, that's not nice," Maria said, stepping up next to me and leaning against the counter too. "Not having fun?"

I sighed and pointed across the room before us, at the gambling tables and the happy crowds gathered around them. "Aaron's holding his own at the blackjack tables, barely. Sorry, 'Adrian,'" I said, with proper air quotes, remembering we were supposed to be referring to each other in character while on the trip just in case Something Special happened on camera.

"Dahlia's been sitting at the same slot machine for the last two hours and consumed at least three margaritas. Jonah, I mean, John, stomped off to the dining room twenty minutes ago after blowing his allowance on the craps tables, and Burg ran through his allowance and now is using mine on roulette. And I'm pretty sure Sunny has been betting with her own money for the last hour at least 'cause she seems to be losing a lot more than I gave her."

Maria laughed and bumped my shoulder with hers. "Hey, they're having fun, and so are the people they're playing with. Did you see that guy who pretended to try and steal one of Adrian's swords a bit ago?"

"I don't think he was pretending."

Maria shrugged. "Okay, maybe not at first, but when Adrian stopped him and gave him the whole Paladin speech, it was great. It got a laugh and clapping from the guy's date, and the guy signed off on us being able to use the whole thing in the film, too."

I did chuckle at that, and smiled as I watched Aaron-slash-Adrian intently following the cards on the table before him, and the gleam in his eyes when the dealer busted and pushed a small pile of chips his way.

"See? There's a smile. You get that Mikey?"

"Got it, ma'am."

"So come on, lighten up a bit, and get yerself a real drink."

"I've tried," I told her, then pointed down at my midsection. "But this keeps getting me told no, and none of the bartenders believe me when I tell them it's fake."

"Hmmm." Maria frowned for a moment, giving me a thoughtful look, then started grinning again. "Here, here's fifty bucks in chips," she said, pulling out some orange chips and pressing them into my empty hand. "Go pick a game to play, and I'll be with you in a moment."

"I don't--"

"GO!"

"Fine!" I huffed, taking the chips and leaving my now empty glass on the counter. I gave Maria one last glare, but all she did was giggle and wave me away from the counter.

Sigh.

That, of course, gave me an entirely new problem: figuring out what to play.

I could join Brian at the roulette table, but I'd honestly never really liked the game: I knew full well how badly games of pure luck could go. That also ruled out the craps tables for me. The slot machines were also pure chance, but they were also the lowest stakes games in the casino, so I could trade in a ten-dollar chip and even without a win, stay busy for a decent amount of time.

I reached in my bag and pulled out my pocket watch again, double-checking the time. Six thirty. We had about an hour and a half before the last scheduled stop for the evening, and after that, the dance floor would open up, a prospect I found a lot more appealing than gambling, especially since I was the one who knew exactly how much we were losing on this little trip.

I shook my head and tried another smile, hoping this one would stick. After all, we'd budgeted for the games, and nobody had a way of losing us more than that. I had one of the company cards, and Maria had the other, so if someone got a little too gung ho and needed a loan when we got to Marisol, we had a way of helping to cover things, but all in all, much as I might angst about it, I knew that we were good on money for the trip and that I should just enjoy myself.

If only it were that easy.

I took another look around the room and finally settled down at one of the low-stakes poker tables, not that far away from where Brian was concentrating on the roulette wheel. I placed my chips on the table, and the dealer gave me a pleased nod. "Texas hold 'em, no wilds," he reminded me, then waited for my nod before he proceeded to begin his deal.

I'd just folded on my second hand when Maria showed up.

"Winning?" She asked me after tapping my shoulder, then handing me a drink.

"Not yet, but not really losing either," I said, giving the glass a suspicious look. "Another orange juice?"

"Nope! Fuzzy navel," she said, grinning.

"Ooh," I said, taking a ginger sip and smiling. "Thanks."

"Can I get a toast for the camera before we move on?"

'Sure." I did just that, with a much more genuine smile this time, and when the camera operator gave us a thumbs up, Maria hugged me.

"There ya go. I'll get ya another drink when that one gets low."

"I mean, one'll probably do me."

"Not tonight, girl!" She said, slapping my shoulder then stepping away laughing.

I shook my head, but I was still smiling when I turned back to the table.

#

The clanging of the bell announcing our stop was alarming, and I let out an embarrassed eep that got the other players at my table laughing.

I looked at my cards. I looked at the river. I looked at my empty glass, my third since settling down at the table. I looked at the small pile of chips before me, mostly reds and oranges.

I looked back at my hand again and thought.

What the hell.

"All in," I said, pushing my entire pile of chips toward the center.

"The lady goes all in. That's... one hundred twenty-five dollars," the dealer announced after a quick assessment of my chips.

"Fold."

"Shit. Fold."

"Call."

"Fold."

I looked across the table at the man who had called my bet. He looked like he was tall, but it was hard to tell with us all sitting down, and I doubted he was as tall as Brian. He had sandy hair, a broad build, and was giving me a smile I couldn't help but smile back at. When I did, he added a wink, and I found myself blushing.

"Players, reveal your hands," the dealer said, distracting me from the fuzzy feeling in my head that the wink and my three drinks had caused.

"Oh, uhh, straight," I said, laying down my hand next to the river. My ten and eight combined with the three jacks, nine, and queen on the table left me confident I had a strong chance of winning.

"Very good. And you, sir?"

The man across from me was still grinning and laid down his own hand. "Full house," he said, showing two aces.

"Well, shit."

I whimpered as I watched the dealer help the man scrape all the chips on the table his way, then hung my head in defeat.

"Hey, don't feel bad. You played really well," the man said.

"Not well enough to win."

"Yeah, well. There's different ways of winning," the guy said, handing me a scrap of paper as he stood up from the table and traded chips with the dealer for a more portable collection.

I took the paper, confused, but before I could check it was further distracted by Maria once again appearing at my shoulder.

"Hey, dance floor's opening up, and we need to get some shots there. You ready to head out?"

"Umm, yeah," I said, glancing back down at the now-empty table before me. I went to stand up, only for my head to begin swimming the moment I did so, leaving me leaning on the table for balance. "Whoa!’

Maria giggled and offered me an arm for balance. "A little tipsy?"

"Maybe a little," I agreed, finding myself giggling with her as I fought to find my center, once again thankful my boots were short and chunky.

"Good. Loosen ya up," she said, helping me take a few steps until I felt I had my balance again, then letting me go.

I thought that would be it, until I felt another arm wrap around mine from the other side. I looked up, and there was Brian, smiling down at me, which for some reason made me giggle again.

"Heya, mind if I escort you to the club floor?"

"Sure thing, Burg," I told him, doing my best to stay in character. "Are we going to dance?"

Brian gave me an amused grin. "Do you want to?"

"Maybe."

"Then maybe."

"Cool."

I giggled again.

Giggled?

Whatever.

-==-

NOTES:

Sorry this is a day late. Things have been crazy this side of things.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 18 -- Mistakes Were Made

We were almost to the stairs leading down to the deck with the dance club when I felt the ship lurch, causing me to grip Brian's arm even tighter as my compromised balance sent me wobbling, with even more associated laughing.

"How many drinks did you have?" He asked me, letting me lean against his chest for a moment as I got used to the ship's movement again.

"Three? I think?" I thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yep. Three. Waddabout you?"

"I had a few," he admitted. "Mostly stuck to beers, though."

"Not me!" I said, with more laughing as we started walking. "Couldn't get a dring from the bar lady 'cause o' this thing," I said, giving my baby bump a gentle pat. "Maria brought me some hairy navels at the table, though."

"Hairy... oh!" Brian chuckled too, and I enjoyed the rumble through his body as we walked. "And what about the guy who won?"

"What about him?"

"He handed you something?"

"Oh!" I looked down at the piece of paper still clutched in my hand. "What is it?" I asked him, handing it to him.

Brian unfolded the paper. He frowned but tried to smile again when he noticed I was watching him. "It's, ah, it's his name and number."

"Oh? Oh," I said, feeling a little wooziness that had nothing to do with alcohol wash over me.

"Did you wanna keep it?"

"Do I?" I asked, then thought for a moment. There was something important about that question, but for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what it was. "I don't think so?"

"Good," Brian said, seeming to breathe a sigh of relief as he slipped the paper into his own pocket.

"Good," I agreed, leaning on him a bit more and wondering why I was feeling the alcohol more now than when I'd been drinking it.

We walked together down the walkway around the outside edge of the ship, looking out at the water, until we reached the doors for the dance club, a fact made obvious by the thump of loud music from beyond them.

Standing just outside of them on the walkway were Maria and the rest of the crew, even Jonah, as well as the camera people, creating a bit of a traffic jam for anyone who wanted to walk past the club itself. When she spotted us, Maria quickly waved us over.

"How'd you beat us up here?" I asked her, maybe a bit accusatorily.

"I walked a straight line," she said, which got a laugh from the rest of the crew, a few of whom looked just as wobbly on their feet as I felt.

"I thought we'd take our time, give Leigh, ah, Lunea a chance to get her sea legs back," Brian said, looking over Maria's shoulder at the film crew.

"Probably a good idea," Maria agreed, looking at how tightly I was holding onto Brian's arm and grinning. "Well, now that you're here, I wanted to talk through the plan with everyone before we head in."

"Sounds good to me."

"About damn time!"

"Whatever."

There really wasn't that much of a plan.

I learned that the dance floor wasn't *officially* open to everyone yet, but instead that we had about half an hour for just our crew before the rest of the ship's guests would be allowed in. After that, we'd stick mostly to one side of the floor, so the camera crews wouldn't get in the way of the other couples, and Maria wanted footage of all of us dancing together, as well as individual dances between as many team members as she could get.

It was simple enough, and with a final whoop as a group, we pushed the doors open and headed in.

For as loud as the music was from outside closed doors, it was deafening within. Later on in the night, the press of bodies as the room filled with guests would probably help to dampen down the sound, but as it stood, with only our little group and a couple of staff behind the bar at one end of the room, the music playing over the sound system reverberated off every surface and hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Whoa," I said, stumbling again as Brian held on to me, the combination of the music and the swimming lights doing nothing for my already shaky equilibrium.

"Easy, easy," he said, barely audible over the thump of the music despite how close we were. "Here."

Brian stepped in front of me and grinned down. one hand still holding my elbow to keep me stable. He asked a question with a quirk of an eyebrow, and I must have nodded because his other hand took my other elbow and lifted my arms until my hands were on his chest. With another quick question in his eyes, he moved his hands to my hips, and just like that, we were dancing.

We were dancing.

The first song on play was a fast number, and our close dancing didn't really fit, but the next song on was a slower country ballad. As the lap steel began to play, Brian shifted our rhythm to match, and we began the shuffling sway of a slow dance together. With every step, I could feel the slight pressure as the baby bump relayed to my own abdomen each time it brushed against Brian, but for some reason, all I could seem to do was smile up at him as he smiled down at me.

Just like it had in Maria's apartment, my mind drifted to the different types of smiles Brian had given me over the years, and I found myself trying to place the one he was giving me now: his eyes soft, his face relaxed and open, the dimples in his cheeks on full display.

It was a nice smile.

The song began to slow as it came to its end, and we slowed with it until we came to a stand-still as the last notes echoed around us, still standing there, looking into each other’s eyes, and oh so close.…

"Hey," came a masculine voice from behind me as someone else's hand touched my shoulder. "Can I have the next dance?"

As I turned and looked up into Aaron's eyes, I heard a familiar laugh from my left, and there was Sydney, reaching out and pulling Brian away from me. "Yeah, come on, you two, save it for the room after. Partner swap time!"

I gave Brian another glance, but he was already being dragged off by Sydney, who was gyrating in a way that I never could as another fast song took over.

"Hey," Aaron said, getting my attention again. "Come on, let's have some fun." He gave me a smile of his own, nice in its own way but not like Brian's, and with a quick step and a flick of his wrist, I found my hand in his as he seemed to sling me out then spin me back in.

I couldn't help but laugh as Aaron took the lead in an almost swing-y dance that left me with nothing to do but hold on and follow along. It wasn't the kind of dancing I would have expected for the pop-y number playing over the stereo, but it was fun, and for the first time in a long time, I felt loose and just let myself go with the flow, only stumbling a little bit, and never more than a step before he would take hold, re-center me, and we'd be off again.

After Aaron, my next partner was Deedee, who tried to teach me a few basic steps that involved a lot of hips and a lot of shoulder action and that I couldn't seem to manage more than two or three beats of before dissolving in laughter.

That got her laughing too, and when Sydney joined us for the next song after, it wasn't long before all three of us spent just as much time leaning on one another and laughing as we did dancing. It was all a lot of fun, though, and by the time we finished trying to dance as a trio, I could almost manage the little hip-wiggle that they were trying to teach me, or at least imagined I could.

When another male hand touched my shoulder, I was so sure it was Brian that I even tried to do the silly hip wiggle as I turned to smile at him, only to almost fall on my ass when it turned out to be Jonah, of all people.

"Oh! Ah, hi?"

"Ahem," he coughed, looking flushed in the crazy lights of the dance floor. "Ah, Maria told me I had to dance with you."

"Oh, okay," I said, stepping toward him, only for him to take a quick step back when I did. "Umm."

As if it was able to read the awkwardness between us and wanted to make it that much worse, the tempo slowed as another country ballad began to play across the speakers, and the lights changed, the warm tones shifting to softer blues.

Great.

I made another move toward Jonah, only to get another flinch away until I finally let out a frustrated sigh and darted forward, almost winding up in the floor but somehow managing to catch him by the shoulders in the process.

"Hey, hey," I said, when he just stood there frozen. "We get this done, you don't gotta touch me again the rest of the night."

"I, ah," he muttered, now gone from flushed to pale white, but gave me a nervous nod before flailing his hands about, seeming unsure of where to put them. Finally, he seemed to settle on my waist, and we began a far more awkward form of the rocking-swaying I'd been doing with Brian seemingly forever ago now.

With Brian, I'd spent the dance watching him watch me. With Aaron, there had been a friendly, carefree energy. With the girls, there had been lots of laughs, hugs, and silliness. But with Jonah, it seemed like the only thing between us was nerves, as he did his best to look anywhere but at me while he moved in a stiff, jerky fashion.

I sighed again. "Jonah, I know you hate me, but try to act like you're having fun, okay?"

"Huh? I... hate you?" He asked me, licking his lips nervously. For the first time since our dance had begun, he looked me in the eyes before quickly looking away again, a frown on his face. "I don't...."

"Hmm?"

"This is stupid," he said, stopping mid-step. I wasn't ready for it and stumbled. Every other partner I'd had all night had been there to prop me up when the alcohol got the better of me, so it surprised me even more when instead, Jonah pulled his arms wide and stepped back, leaving me grasping at empty air as my ankles tangled with one another, and I went down.

THUD

"Oh, shit! Sorry, I--"

"Jonah!"

Even over the music I could hear the anger in Maria's voice, and as I was pulled back to my feet it was her hands that helped me up, and her arm that went around my shoulder.

"The fuck, Jonah!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"Then why was she--"

"HEY!" I shrieked, loud and high enough that it even hurt my ears. "It... it was just an accident, okay?" I said, grabbing Maria's hand and squeezing it to get her to look at me. "Okay?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Jonah...." I looked over to where he'd been standing only moments before, shock on his face, but now all that was there was empty space.

"That little--"

"Maria, really. It wasn't... he didn't do anything," I assured her again.

Maria sighed and waved someone away. I looked up and saw it was Brian, who had broken off from a dance with Deedee to come check on us. He gave me a long look and waited until I waved him off, too, before returning to his dance while the camera crews made a point of focusing on him, Aaron, and the girls and giving Maria and me our space.

"Come here," she said, then pulled me over toward the bar. "We could both use something to calm our nerves."

"Fresh air?"

"Mojitos."

"Ah."

It seemed like Maria had barely snapped her fingers when two fruity drinks appeared on the counter before us, this new bartender barely giving my enhanced belly a disapproving glance.

"Drink up," Maria said, handing me one glass while she kept hold of the other. She tilted hers my way, then took a long pull on the straw, giving me a Look until I did the same, wincing only slightly as the freezing cold bite of the alcohol hit me.

"Bleegh," I said, shaking my head, only for another Look from Maria to send me right back to the straw, where she obviously wanted my attention focused.

Thankfully, it only took another couple of cringes at the taste, and another couple of long drags on the straw, before I felt myself loosen up again, and Maria's Look gave way to a broad grin.

"Better?"

"Sure?"

"Good. 'Cause you have at least one more dance to go."

"I do?" I asked, but she was already walking away from me toward the DJ booth.

I took another sip of my mojito, barely noticing the alcohol at all this time, and just leaned back against the bar, catching my breath. The last time I'd been at a bar drinking with Maria, just the two of us, we'd gotten horrendously sick on cheap hurricanes, badly enough we'd both sworn off them forever.

I idly wondered just how much similarity there was between a hurricane and a mojito but was distracted from my thoughts by Maria returning to me with Brian in tow.

"Uno mas?" I asked, pointing toward the dance floor with my drink, only for both of them to give me amused grins.

"After this song is over. I put in a special request just for the two of you."

"I should give up on this, then," I said, placing my now two-thirds-empty glass on the bar. "Otherwise, no dancing for me."

"If I may," Brian said, reaching past me to the glass. Without waiting for an answer, he finished off the last third in one long pull, smacking his lips and shaking his head after.

"Too much?" I asked him while he stood there, eyes squinted closed.

"Brain freeze," he said, which of course, got both me and Maria giggling. We kept giggling right up until the music began to fade.

"Time for y'all to head back to the dance floor."

"If you would?" Brian asked me, opening his eyes and giving me another amazing smile as he backed up and offered me his hand.

I said nothing as I took it and let him pull me in, continuing to back toward the dance floor as his hands again found my hips and, this time, my own hands snaked their way up to his neck, the better to hang on for balance.

I didn't recognize the ballad at first, with its jazzy notes, and the extra alcohol from the mojito was starting to do funny things to my head, but as the chorus kicked in and Brian pulled me in even closer, I couldn't help but start to laugh as I laid my head on his chest and listened.

She's havin' my baby; what a beautiful way of sayin' how much she loves me....

Brian was humming along to the song too, and when I looked up again, he was looking down again. The fuzzy lights behind him were almost like a halo, and my eyes drifted closed even as his hazy face seemed to slip closer and closer to my own.

-==-

NOTES:

As per usual, the next chapter is already available over on the BCTS Patreon for anyone who wants to hop over and read it!

Comments and kudos appreciated.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 19 -- Did We?

“You okay?”

I sighed. “Yes. For like the fifth time, I’m fine.”

Brian held up his hands and leaned away from me but continued to smile. “You’re just fidgeting a lot, is all.”

“Yeah, well.” I harrumphed and crossed my arms. “I’m just ready to get off this boat.”

“You and me both,” he said, laying a hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze.

I tried not to flinch at his touch, but I could see the shift in his eyes when he caught how forced my smile was, and he quickly dropped his hand.

I gave myself a mental kick. “Promise, I’m all right,” I told him again, reaching out and squeezing his arm instead. “Just a bit too much alcohol and not enough aspirin,” I said, trying to give him a more genuine smile. It seemed to do the trick, as I watched some of the stress leave his features as he turned around and started fiddling with his phone again.

It wasn’t a lie, after all. Not entirely.

It just wasn’t the whole truth, either.

I hiked my bag up on my shoulder and couldn’t help but fidget just a bit more as I looked around the little room our crew had gathered in, waiting for our chance to unboard with all the complications the film crew would add to that, and thankful that it would be the last shots we had to do for the advertising video. All of us were halfway in our own worlds, what with plans for the convention and the trip there.

Unfortunately, that left me plenty of time to get lost in my own head when that was the last thing I wanted to do….

#

Waking up in our room on the ship that morning had brought with it a number of pleasant and unpleasant sensations.

The feel of the soft, warm sheets on my skin.

The gentle swaying of the boat.

The pounding headache and wooziness told me mojitos were going on the same Do Not Call list as hurricanes, and that I should never trust anything Maria handed me with an umbrella in it again.

“Mrrrngh,” I moaned, sliding my arms out of the warm sheets so I could press my palms to my temples, desperate to squeeze a bit of pain out through my ears.

“Hrmfrmf,” someone else moaned, rolling to face away from me and taking the sheets with them, exposing the rest of my body to the cooler room.

I froze, goose pimples rising on every inch of my skin, both from the temperature and from the realization that I wasn’t alone in bed.

My eyes shot open, and I slowly turned over, like the character in some horror movie, to see what hideous monster might lie in wait to gobble me up.

Worse than that, the back of a very familiar head of sandy blond hair stared back at me, its owner lightly snoring on the other side.

Hangover be damned, I crabbed my way off the bed and into the floor faster than the time I’d fled the dobsonfly that got in my room.

About that time, the cool air and the carpet worked together to bring to my attention another terrifying realization: my dress was nowhere to be found.

I let out a strangled gurgle that might have been anger, or might have been shame, or any number of other brain-shattering emotions and skittered for the bathroom, slamming the door behind me and leaning against it.

Huff, huff, huff.

There was my dress, draped across the side of the tub, my boots and accessories laying in the (thankfully dry) tub behind it.

Well, that was one small mystery solved, at least.

We must have hit a wave because I felt the boat take a bigger lurch than normal. Combined with the swimming my head was already doing, that was enough to send me staggering for the toilet, the mojito, the fuzzy navels, and what seemed like everything else I’d consumed in the last week, making a final and successful bid for escape.

“Hurk,” I murmured, reaching down to cradle my stomach, only to find a soft and squidgy obstacle in the way. The mental image of Maria asking me to make a con save versus morning sickness entered my head, and I could swear I could hear the dice bouncing across the table.

I rolled a one.

“Hurph.”

I dry heaved a couple more times before it felt like things calmed down enough, I could stand again. I held on to the edge of the sink tightly with one hand while I used one of the paper cups from the dispenser next to the mirror to rinse my mouth out at least four times before I was convinced I’d cleared the last of the nasty.

That’s when I finally glanced in the mirror itself.

I looked a mess. Wild hair. Smeared makeup, from my eyes to my chin: if there had been any hope of determining the night’s activities based on my lipstick, it was long gone with one glance. My bra was still on, thankfully, though it was pulled up so that the band rested uncomfortably directly across my nipples, a problem that, now I noticed it, required immediate correction. And, there below it, that evil mound of rubber and goop and trouble.

And below that, just the barest visible hint that I really, really needed to pee.

For one bleary-eyed, headache-fueled moment, I considered standing up to do so – just to prove the point – but another lurch of the ship was enough to convince me that was a bad idea. “Not like these underwear have a flap anyway,” I muttered as I undid the snaps on the bodysuit, lowered my panties, and plopped on the toilet, whimpering only a little as the jostling caused ripples of pain through my skull.

As I sat there, I looked down at myself and thought.

Okay, Leigh. What’s the sitch?

I got drunk last night. Easy bead on that, at least. More to the point, I got drunk while on a casino boat while dressed as a pregnant elf sorceress. Blackout drunk, even. So, that’s a story to never, ever let anyone tell my future kids.

And this morning, I woke up in bed, in only my underwear, with my best guy friend and roommate, Brian.

What in God’s name happened in between?

I looked at my costume, draped across the tub. It didn’t look like it had been tossed there haphazardly, and it looked like everything I’d left the room with the night before was still present. So, that means that either I regained consciousness long enough to strip down, or someone else stripped me down. I couldn’t imagine Brian or Maria leaving everything in the bathroom, so it was probably me.

So, what about…?

Blushing, I lifted my hand to my face and used it to sniff my breath. I grimaced at the smell of nasty from throwing up but didn’t smell anything else. With an even deeper blush, I shifted on the toilet seat, seeing if anything felt… off down below that I might have missed in my panicked rush earlier. As far as I could tell, there wasn’t any pain or anything, so that probably didn’t happen either.

I didn’t even consider anything in the other direction as a possibility.

Okay, so. If there was any drunken debauchery, it was, at worst over-the-clothes stuff, even if that was less clothes than I’d hoped. Then again, all evidence pointed to my state of undress being my own doing, too, so nobody to blame there.

Maybe it was all just an innocent thing?

BANGBANGBANG

“Eeep!”

“Hey, you about done in there?” Brian’s groggy voice came through the door. “I got about a gallon of beer I need to get rid of.”

“Ah, yeah, just a moment!” I called back, higher pitched than I’d intended. “Just, umm, cleaning off my makeup!”

"Well, can I come in and piss while you're--"

“NO!”

“Okayokay! Five minutes.”

I heard him step away from the door, grumbling something that sounded suspiciously like “sorry princess” under his breath, not that I could blame him.

Feeling drained in more ways than one, I stood up, wiped myself down, and pulled everything back in place before going back to the mirror to do exactly what I’d told him I was already doing. I pushed through the pain with only a little more moaning and gathered my costume pieces to carry back to the room with me.

Brian gave me a winning smile the moment I opened the door, one that never left his face even as he very stiffly walked over, pushed past me, and closed the bathroom door behind himself, the latch barely clicking into place before I heard what sounded like a faucet running and a very satisfied sigh.

I rolled my eyes and dumped my costume stuff on the bed before going to the closet and pulling out my overnight and garment bags.

First things first, I dug in the little pocket on the side of my bag for the bottle of aspirin I always kept there, popped two, and almost packed it again before changing my mind and instead setting the bottle on the end table next to the bed we’d shared the night before, in case Brian needed any.

I started to strip off my body suit but hesitated. What if Brian walked in on me while I was naked? It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen me undressed, sure, but it felt different now. More… I dunno. It just didn’t feel like something that should be that casual?

Thankfully the sound of the shower turning on told me I had at least a few minutes before I had to worry about him coming back out. I considered waiting and taking a shower myself, but the last thing I wanted was to still be standing there in my underwear when he came back out, so I gave myself a sniff, decided I was okay for another day and stripped down.

As soon as the body suit was off I stretched and let out a long sigh of relief, fighting the urge to scratch at all my newly exposed skin. Instead, I reached back into the side pocket of my bag and pulled out the pack of baby wipes there and gave myself a wipe down before pulling on fresh underwear, then grimaced as I opened my second garment bag and took the second suit out of it.

I’d thought it was bad enough when Cici had made one, but knowing that there were now three of these things out in the wild, all made specifically for me, sent a bit of a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the quickly drying moisture from the baby wipes.

I took one last breath, enjoying my freedom, and pulled on my pregnant prison.

By the time Brian came back out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist and his hair still dripping wet, I’d mostly finished putting on my new outfit.

“Cute,” he said, watching me buckle up my boots while he air-dried.

I started to say thanks but instead found myself looking at his abs and blushing. Gah, get it together, Leigh! “Ah, thanks. I still have to do my makeup.”

“Well, bathroom’s yours again,” he said, spying the painkillers on the nightstand and grinning slightly as he went for them.

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

I tried to think of something else to say, but unable to do so, I grabbed my makeup bag and headed for the bathroom instead, just catching a glimpse of his bare ass in the mirror on the back side of the door before I closed it behind me.

....

Whoo boy.

I set my makeup bag on the little counter next to the sink and once again looked at myself in the mirror. My makeup was gone, but my cheeks still held a flush, and for some reason, my breathing was tight.

“And this is just the second day of the trip,” a voice inside my head that sounded suspiciously like Brian’s reminded me.

I shook my head and got to work fixing my face.

#

“Lunea!”

“Wha?!” I jumped, Maria shaking me with enough force that I almost dropped my staff. “Sorry, umm.”

Maria rolled her eyes while Brian gave me a look that was half-amusement, half-concern over her shoulder. “We’re ready to go. Did you hear the plan?” Without waiting for my answer, she continued. “John and Adrian will lead us off, followed by you and Burg, then Sunny and Dahlia. I’ll come down last.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Oh, and can you hold on to Burg like the two of you are in love?”

“...Yes?” I responded, Brian’s grin over her shoulder turning my affirmation into more of a strangled question.

“Good!” She said, then clapped her hands. Turning around, she yelled, “Okay, folks! Hit the deck!”

The crew cleared out of the room to take their places at the top and bottom of the ramp, leaving the rest of us to find our positions. Jonah and Aaron got their things around and took position at the door, then I stepped up behind Aaron, Brian on my left.

“So, you wanna hold hands now, or wait ‘til we step outside?” Brian asked me, adding an elbow bump for good measure.

“Umm—”

“You should do it now,” Deidre said from directly behind me. “In case the cameras are rolling when we step out.”

I looked over my shoulder at Deidre and Sydney. Deidre looked calm, but I could see the crinkle at the corner of her eyes that told me she was trying not to crack. Sydney, on the other hand, wasn’t even attempting to hide her opinion, giving me the toothiest smile she could manage, with two thumbs up to boot, only slightly hampered by the axe and shield in her hands.

I rolled my eyes, but when I looked at Brian, I saw his eyes twitch down. Following his gaze, I saw that he’d put his sword in its sheath and was offering me his hand.

I looked up to his eyes again, and for the first time since waking up in bed that morning, really studied his expression.

If we had done anything the night before, he hadn’t mentioned it, nor had he made any insinuations that things were any different between us than they’d ever been.

But for whatever reason, they felt different.

I felt different.

Like our trip to the park, I felt butterflies in my stomach that seemed to leave the boundaries of my real body and fly through the silicone baby bump that was even now pushing my dress outward, visible for the world to see. A baby bump that represented our baby in-game.

No, I reminded myself. Not our baby: our characters’ baby.

But really… was there a difference?

I shook my head, hoping the jostling would knock the intrusive thoughts away, but all it did was make me a little dizzy.

I felt Brian’s fingers touch my hand and almost unconsciously opened my own, letting him slide his fingers across my palm as he took my hand in his.

-==-

NOTES:

Chapter 20 is up on Patreon right now!

https://www.patreon.com/posts/wednesday-20-to-84599043

It's free to read, so stop by and check it out!

As always, comments and kudos appreciated.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 20 – From Here to There

“Ugh,” I grumbled as I shifted in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position.

“It’s not that bad,” Brian said, humor in his voice even though his eyes and attention were on the road and not my squirming.

“Says you,” I mumped with another grumble. “The seat belt is twisted, the seat adjuster is broken, and the pleather is cracked and keeps pinching my ass.”

“Shoulda worn thicker pants,” he said happily, shimmying a bit in his own seat. “Or any pants at all.”

“I’ve got basically two pairs of p… undies on, and the skirt is lined, and I’m still pretty sure I’m gonna have blisters on both cheeks by the time we get to the hotel!”

Brian rolled his eyes but still didn’t look at me. “It’s a rental car. That’s how rental cars are. I’m just glad we got one that doesn’t smell like week-old farts.”

“Ew.”

Brian nodded.

I wanted to complain more, but instead, I turned and looked out the window, adjusting my seat belt to find a position where it didn’t press uncomfortably on either my… chest, or my artificially extended midsection. It made me wonder how I hadn’t noticed the seat belts in either my car or Brian’s truck doing this kind of thing. Then again, we’d long ago gotten the belts in both adjusted mostly to our liking, so maybe I just wasn’t aware of it anymore?

I was certainly aware of it now, and the views beyond the window, pretty as the pastures and hills were, weren’t doing anywhere near enough to distract me from it.

“Two more hours.”

“Hmm?”

“’Til we get to the hotel.”

“I didn’t--”

“But you were going to.”

“Was not!”

Brian gave me a disbelieving side-eye.

“I mean, not yet.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Rather than acknowledging Brian’s smug response, I looked back at the uninspiring scenery yet again.

Marisol itself had been interesting, if not particularly alluring. A mixture of warehouses and old, somewhat run-down shops, the place had clearly seen better days, and all the cheery old-timey set decoration on the warehouses and businesses along the dock couldn’t hide the underlying sense of listlessness places like that developed when their heyday was gone, but the buildings themselves remained.

Maria had been sure to get shots of us checking out the handful of touristy places that had taken root near the docks, and even of us waving to the crew of the Golden Goose as it pulled away, most of whom were probably smiling so much because they didn’t have to deal with the pain-in-the-ass film crew anymore.

Or maybe I was still just a little on edge.

We said our good-byes to the ATG film crew there at the docks, since our own crew would be handling the staging and filming of the con events, but not before Maria collected a whole stack of business cards and promises to be in contact about the final editing on the film.

With that done, there was a sense of relief as we wandered down what passed for a boardwalk toward the building where our rental cars were supposed to be parked.

I’d taken one look at them and decided that next convention, I’d be springing for the upgrade. When I’d e-signed the paperwork for two compact cars and a minivan, I’d expected at least one of them to be from this century. Nevertheless, Brian had nabbed us the one with a working tape deck and a copy of Styx’s greatest hits, and we’d set off.

“Coffee?”

“Hmm?” I looked back at Brian, who spared a hand from the wheel long enough to point at a familiar fast-food logo on the horizon. “Oh! Sure, that sounds good. Maybe a bathroom break?”

“Sure thing,” he agreed, activating the turn signal while I fired off a text to the others, letting them know about our stop.

We pulled in and parked, and I let Brian take the duty of fetching our coffees while I went in search of the restrooms, finding them in the typical little hallway to the side of the kitchens. I hesitated only a moment before pushing open the door of the one marked “women:” even with Texas’ current slate of laws, something told me it was a safer option than risking my luck in the men’s room. Thankfully what lay beyond the doors was a neat and clean-ish little room with two sinks, two stalls, and a mirror that was still half-decent at its job.

I’d finished my business and was washing my hands when, of course, the door creaked open and another person entered the room, stepping up next to me and using the adjoining sink.

“Just washing my hands ‘fore eating,” she told me with a smile that, to her credit, barely faltered at my somewhat off-the-wall ensemble. At least, that was until she saw my belly. “Oh, how far along are you?”

I blushed. “Umm, four months?” I said, trying to remember how far along my character was. Was that right?

“Oh, wow! I’m only about three, I think,” she said, stepping back and spreading her arms. Sure enough, I could see just the hints of a belly like mine through the fabric of her sweater. Not as big, yet….

“Congratulations?” I hazarded, shutting off the water but keeping my hands over the sink since she stood between me and the towel dispenser.

“Thanks,” she said sweetly, then sighed, her shoulders sagging.

“Is something wrong?” I asked her, then instantly regretted it when the girl started sobbing and rushed me, wrapping me in a hug.

“Guh,” she said, gasping for air as she squeezed mine out through my ears, even as I tried to give her a comforting back pat while also trying not to drip water on her from my still-wet hands. “S-sorry, just… men fucking suck, y’know?”

I blushed even more. “Umm, yeah,” I agreed, thinking of Jonah. Then Brian and Aaron came to mind, too. “I mean, some of them.”

She sighed again and let me go, wiping her eyes and nose with the back of the sleeve of her sweater. “Oh geez, I didn’t mean to… that other guy’s your husband, I guess? The one in the armor?”

“No, he’s just…” I trailed off, realizing with horror that I had no idea how to describe our relationship at the moment. “It’s complicated?” I finally settled on, more to shut down my own runaway thoughts than to really answer the question.

“Oh, but he’s the daddy, right?”

“That’s… also complicated,” I said. Then seeing the confusion on her face, I added, “But yeah?”

She laughed at that. “I getcha. Wanted to do the deed, but doesn’t want the responsibility?” I started to open my mouth to answer, but she waved me off with a bitter puff. “Sorry, that’s harsh. He’s here, and that’s something, right?”

I nodded, not sure what else to say.

She seemed to deflate again, leaning back against the sinks but still not giving me a route to the paper towels. “I guess I really can’t blame anyone but myself. I knew he was a piece of shit, and I shoulda never trusted him when he said he couldn’t have kids. I’m still gonna be laughing all the way to the bank soon as I can get a paternity test done, though. I just wish things weren’t so rough, y’know? Like, the morning sickness passes, but the swelling and the cravings….”

“Support hose,” I said, the information from my research into pregnancy popping into my head unbidden. “It can help with the swollen ankles.”

“Really?” She said, surprised, then looked down at my legs. “Are you wearing them?”

“Umm, no,” I admitted. Why did that make me feel a little embarrassed?

“Huh. Well, worth a shot,” she said, smiling again. “Hey, I’m sorry about this, it’s just--”

“No, it’s all right,” I said, cutting her off. I gave her my best smile and, figuring it was my best option, another small hand-less hug. “I hope things get better for you.”

“They will, just… thanks,” she said, giving me a finger wave and heading back out the door.

Alone in the room again, I looked down at myself, and at my still drippy hands. Then, I looked further down, at my bare legs and my boots.

Should I be wearing support hose?

I shook the stray thought away, rinsed my hands again, and finally dried them, checking my appearance in the mirror before heading back out into the lobby.

Brian was waiting for me near the doors, two coffees and a small bag in his hands. I looked around the sitting area and spotted my bathroom companion sitting at a table by herself on the other side of the room. She caught me looking at her and gave me a small smile and a wave, so I smiled and waved back before opening the doors for Brian.

“Who was that?” He asked me on the way to the car.

“Just a lady I met in the bathroom,” I told him, not sure how much I wanted to reveal about our conversation.

“Well, I hope everything came out okay,” he said, chuckling when he saw my scowl. “Hey, it’s all good. We got coffee, and I got us a couple of apple pies too.”

“Really?” I said, the little bag in his hands suddenly seeming a lot more interesting.

“Yep. But let’s get back on the road first, pinch-y pleather seats and all.”

“...Those apple pies better be amazing.”

“Aren’t they always?”

“Fair.”

###

NOTES:

Chapter 21 now available over on Patreon!

https://www.patreon.com/posts/wednesday-21-of-84943735

We're FINALLY AT THE CON as of 21! Woo!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 21: Weapon of Choice

The last thing I wanted after that fiasco was to get stuck in my own head again, but it wasn’t long before the underwhelming scenery and post-apple pie torpor had my mind circling the drain.

What WAS going on with my relationship with Brian anyway? Were we still just roommates and best friends? Or….

I thought about that morning in our room and waking up in bed next to him. I’d freaked out a little, sure, but if I were being honest with myself, I was more upset about not knowing what we’d done than the idea that we might have done anything. Heck, I still wasn’t sure we hadn’t, only that whatever it was hadn’t involved anything that would require my panties to come off.

Brian certainly wasn’t a bad-looking guy, after all. Better looking than most of the girls I’d dated in college, and definitely more handsome than the few guys I’d experimented with. And Maria had been telling me for a while I needed to get my oats sowed, so to speak. Truth be told, my last date was quite a while back, and my last time with a partner was even longer than that.

Actually, I couldn’t remember dating anyone since college, which surprised me. It hadn’t been that long, had it?

Come to think of it, how long had it been since I’d seen Brian bring home a date?

I glanced at Brian, careful not to make it obvious, and studied his profile. Strong jaw. Deep blue eyes. A few days’ worth of stubble, because, according to him, it made his characters look more rugged and manly. I couldn’t imagine why any girl wouldn’t want to date him.

I remembered the feel of that stubble, brushing my face, as we’d danced, and as we’d….

Blushing, I turned away again.

Okay, so my memory was clear that we’d at least kissed. Probably more than once, if I were to guess. Historically I only ever really got drunk when hanging out with Maria. We both could get a little touchy-feely when we got a few drinks in us and had kissed a couple times when that happened too.

Then again, when we’d been drunk and kissed, it was because she was wanting to get the attention of a guy she was into. Why had she thought that would get his attention, again?

Oh yeah, because he’d thought I was her girlfriend, I remembered, rolling my eyes. If memory served, that was also the Night of the Hurricanes and just another reason to never repeat that evening ever.

So maybe that wasn’t so much like kissing Brian last night after all. Yes, there was alcohol involved, but as far as I knew, neither of us was trying to get anyone’s attention.

Another fuzzy memory, of a phone number on a scrap of paper, floated through my brain, just out of reach, followed by Brian’s bare ass in the bathroom mirror.

“Grrrr.”

“Something wrong?” Brian asked, the sound of his voice making me jump.

“Hmm? What?”

“You growled.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“Oh.” I didn’t dare look his way, knowing already that he’d be giving me one of his smarmy smiles and not wanting to deal with it at the moment. “Just ready to get to the hotel, is all.”

“Ah. According to my phone, we’re about another half an hour out.”

“Great.”

That seemed to be enough to reassure Brian since he didn’t say anything else, and once again, I was left to my thoughts, watching as the scenery beyond my window made the transition from fields to suburbs in preparation for the city itself.

We’d been to a con in Houston a couple of years and somewhere north of a million subs ago, around the time we got our ATG sponsorship. At the time, we’d been there as fans, not as guests, though we’d still managed a few photo ops with the rare fan of our show, or sometimes just folks who loved our costumes. I guess it made sense that the structure of Austin had me thinking of that: the same quasi-western aesthetic mixed with standard American Industrial, the same dust hanging over everything.

The same tingle of excitement in the pit of my stomach as each mile fell in our inevitable approach.

I’d been stressing for weeks, if not months, about what this con could mean for us as a business. Sure, ATG was picking up a big chunk of the bill, but we still had our own expenses, including the rental cars and partial accommodations for our crew when we opted to use our own people instead of letting ATG arrange it themselves.

Much as we loved the Faelands system, ultimately, the show we were putting on wasn’t a Faelands game: it was OUR game, and we wanted OUR people who’d helped to make it possible there with us. Then there was renting our own booth space, and making sure we had enough swag to give away and sell, and it was all just a lot to deal with.

But that was all in the past. The organizing was done, and with the retrieval of the rental cars, my part in organizing anything at all was more or less done unless an emergency popped up.

For the first time since we’d accepted the offer to appear, I was thinking about the con as something to look forward to more than something to dread, and even with all the other shenanigans going on in my life, I couldn’t help but smile.

My smile slipped as I found myself having to adjust my seat belt again. There were still at least a couple of things to stress over, after all.

Brian’s ‘thirty minutes’ wound up being closer to another hour thanks to inner city traffic, but with a little help from his phone’s GPS, we wound our way through the city streets and toward our destination.

The Randal Floyd Convention Center was certainly something else: a long, stucco-covered building full of tall windows, that looked squat from a distance until you realized the whole thing was probably two city blocks long all on its own. I knew that somewhere in there was the exhibition floor where the convention would take place, and that somewhere near that would be the small auditorium that ATG had rented for our shows.

Our first destination, however, was across the road from the convention center: the Kramer Hotel.

I had spent a lot of time researching the hotels that were available and had more than one heated discussion with the ATG organizers about our needs. We’d settled on the Kramer for two reasons: it was connected to the convention center by a skyway, so we’d be able to travel back and forth without dodging traffic, and it was the only place that had suites available when we’d gone to book.

It was certainly a nice hotel, with gleaming metal supports contrasting with the creamy texture of the con center across the way, and not for the first time, I was glad we were only footing half the bills for the crew’s rooms and not our own.

“No more cars for three days!” I crowed happily once we were safely parked in the underground garage at the hotel.

“Not unless we go somewhere to eat.”

“No more cars for three days,” I said again, with extra emphasis.

“Okie doke.”

It didn’t take long to grab our stuff and find the elevator, and from there make our way to the hotel lobby.

The lobby was a sight to behold. It was clear that the hotel was all-in for the gaming convention, complete with banners and a number of other be-costumed con-goers milling about, either checking in themselves or taking a break from the activity and noise across the street. I eagerly looked around as I let Brian lead the way to the desk, clearing a path for us while I admired the costumes, but once we reached the desk, he stepped aside.

“Hello, miss,” the lady at the reception desk said, giving the slight points of my prosthetic elf ears only the smallest of glances and never dropping her smile. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, we should have a room registered under Leigh Serrano?”

“Do you have an ID?”

I pulled out my wallet and handed her the ID. She barely glanced at it before turning back to her computer and typing. “I don’t… wait, here it is. Wednesday Knights?” She asked.

“Our streaming group,” I told her, unable to keep a bit of pride out of it.

“I see,” she said, without any hint that she knew what it meant. She turned back to the monitor and clicked on the screen a few more times, then picked up an envelope. I started to reach for it, but instead of handing it to me, she offered it to Brian. “Your room is five twenty-four, part of one of our suites. Your key cards will open your room, the main suite entrance, and the door between your room and the main suite. If you need anything else, just let us know.”

“Thanks,” Brian said, taking the keys but handing them to me. “That everything we need?” he asked me.

“Yeah,” I said, trying not to sound too annoyed.

The girl at the desk smiled again, still oblivious. “Enjoy your stay at the Kramer!”

Without another word, we turned and headed for the elevators. Brian pulled out his phone and was sending texts while I called us a car, and somehow, we managed to get one just to ourselves. I made the assumption that room five twenty-four would be on the fifth floor, hit the button, and held my breath through the initial lurch.

Tap tap tap.

“Maria and Cici have the other room in the suite,” he told me, putting his phone away and lightly bumping my shoulder with his elbow.

“Great,” I said, a little huffily, though I was genuinely relieved: I’d forgotten how we’d split the suites, and the last thing I wanted to do was deal with sharing a common area with Jonah for three days straight. “So that means that costumes and makeup are in our common room?”

“And the equipment is in the other, yep,” Brian confirmed for me. “By the way, can I get a key back?”

I pretended to think about it for a moment. “Hmmm. Maybe.”

“I mean, I was nice enough to give them to you,” he said, nudging me again.

The elevator dinged, and my stomach dropped as we came to a halt and the doors slid open. “I hate it when they do that,” I grumbled as we stepped out of the elevator, though I did pull one of the cards out and hand it to him.

“The elevator or the keys?”

“Both?” I admitted. “But mostly the key thing.”

“It’s only because I’m so tall and confident-looking.”

“It’s because you have a mace,” I argued, double-checking the legend on the wall and following the arrow toward our room.

“It is a pretty impressive mace,” he agreed, nodding sagely.

“Well, it’d have to be. Gotta compensate somehow,” I tossed back, a smile creeping across my face.

“Ouch!”

We were both smiling and laughing as I scanned my card in the door and swung it open….

Right up until I saw the room.

And the single king-sized bed in the middle.

###

NOTES:

Chapter 22 is now available on the BCTS Patreon for anyone impatient to see what happens next!

Comments and kudos appreciated. I love you all.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 22 -- Fit For A King

“Here you are, miss, enjoy!” The chipper booth girl said.

I thanked her and took the small bag from her hands, dropping it in the cavernous mouth of the complimentary oversized tote the con had given me when I’d registered. It wasn’t overly full yet, but I could already feel it weighing down my shoulder and wondered if I should head back to the room to empty it before coming back.

No, I reminded myself. That would just mean seeing the room again, and I certainly didn’t want to do that at the moment.

It wasn’t the hotel’s fault, not really. I knew that, and double-checking their site, it was clearly stated that one of the rooms in a suite held two full-sized beds and the other held a king bed. It wouldn’t even be an issue on almost any other weekend, since hotels like the Kramer always had roll-aways available, and the common rooms for the suites usually held convertible couches.

Unfortunately, this was a con weekend. All the roll-aways were claimed, and like generous fools, we’d offered to let them re-locate the couch from our suite to another room that needed a roll-away for the con. It hadn’t seemed like a big deal, since we were planning to use the common rooms for staging and changing, so if anything, getting the couch out of the way would work out for the better, right?

I grunted as a rotund man in a Superman costume rammed my shoulder. “Hey!” I called after him, but he never even bothered to turn around and look at what he’d hit. I was ready to turn back around and just carry on when another man, wearing a Doctor Strange costume, stepped in front of him.

“Hey, man. Apologize to the lady,” he said, pointing at me.

Superman turned and gave me a sneering leer… right up until he saw my belly. “Oh! Geez, I’m sorry!” He said, turning as red as his too-tight spandex trunks.

I let out a heavy sigh, trying not to let my temper get the best of me. “It’s all right, just watch where you’re going a bit more, okay?” I gave a small wave at the crowd that was flowing around us. “You never know who you’ll run into.”

“Ah, yeah,” he agreed, blushing even more. He turned back around, and Doctor Strange nodded at him before stepping aside and letting him pass.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling up at the tall be-cloaked man.

“Hey, no problem. Guys like that should keep a closer eye where they’re going.”

“Yeah ....”

“Especially if it means missing someone as cute as you.”

“Oh,” I said, blushing.

“I’m Ben, by the way.”

“Oh! Leigh,” I said, taking his offered hand for a gentle shake.

“Yep. You do that streaming show.”

“You watch us?” I asked, surprised.

“Only a couple of times,” he admitted. “My girlfriend is a big fan, though.”

“You have a girlfriend? I mean, not… you know what I mean.” Why was I a little flustered?

He laughed. “Hey, you’re not the only girl who likes geeks. If you need any help with other jerks, just keep an eye out for the cape,” he said, shaking one of the gold-tasseled corners at me.

“Will do,” I agreed, laughing too. “And thanks.”

We parted, and I smiled after him for a moment before shaking my head and going back on my way.

The baby bump had been an experience so far. I’d thought that wearing it around the house and even out around town a few times would prepare me for wearing it at the con, and from a physical perspective, it had. The difference was, at home, I’d tried to keep it hidden. Here, at the con, my costume had it shown off for the world to see, and the responses had been unexpected.

A lot of people still ignored me, sure, but I’d also gotten a lot of surprising looks from both men and women. I was used to guys leering a bit when I came to cons dressed as my characters, but so many of those leers were turning into frowns or, occasionally, crude, knowing smiles when they noticed the baby. Women, on the other hand, seemed more prone to smiling at me, and at one booth I’d gone to, one of the booth girls had even given me a discount because I was “just so darn cute.”

It was all almost novel enough that I could ignore the increased strain on my back as I traveled the concrete floors and the extra space I needed to get through crowds.

Almost.

Again, I considered heading back to the room, not only to drop things off but maybe to take a quick nap as well. The only thing any of us had planned for the evening was a panel Maria was asked to speak at for game masters working with streaming groups, and she’d specifically asked us players not to attend, “lest you hear something you shouldn’t.” The booth floor was staying open until eight, so I could nap for an hour or two and still have another two or three hours to explore after, and it’s not like we wouldn’t have time the next couple of days to wander a bit too….

But once again, going back to the room would mean facing the king-sized bed.

I re-considered Maria and Cici’s offer to take the king and let us have the double, but like when they’d asked, I kicked the idea. I’d shared a bed with Maria before, and I wasn’t about to subject Cici to the kicking, the shoving, and the cover stealing Maria was prone to. Likewise, in the other suite Sydney and Deidre were themselves sharing the king room, leaving the double room for Aaron and Jonah, and like with our suite, we’d let the couch be taken for a room that had pre-booked a roll-away.

I didn’t even consider forcing Aaron to share a bed with Jonah. Didn’t none of us want to do that.

My phone dinged, so I pushed my way through con-goers until I reached a bench along one of the walls. It took me a bit of effort to shift my bags and props around enough to get my phone out, but when I did, and saw what the ding was about, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to burst into laughter or huff angrily.

It was a text from Brian, and attached was a picture of him standing in the middle of three ladies dressed as elves, all of whom were heavily pregnant, and all of whom were hanging onto him or kissing his cheeks. “Found my new harem,” the text itself said.

I blinked, then frowned and started to put my phone away, only for it to ding again. Another text from Brian, this one simply saying, “Wanna join?”

I frowned more deeply, and silenced my phone, making sure this time it got put away. Changing my mind, I pulled it back out and started a group text.

“Tired. Going back to room for a nap,” I typed and sent. Then, feeling just a bit annoyed, sent an extra one just to Brian that said “ALONE.”

“Hmmf,” I said to myself with a satisfied nod as I put away my phone yet again and stood up, taking a moment to orient myself before starting the adventure that was navigating the crowds in the other direction. I must have still looked a bit pissed because the crowds parted ahead of me more easily than before.

Stupid Brian. He wasn’t bothered by the situation in the least, it seemed, and had actually laughed – laughed! – when he’d seen the room. Sydney and Deidre had just rolled their eyes, Maria had shrugged ....

I sighed as I trudged and squeezed and trudged some more. Dodging con-goers took my focus for a bit, but soon the crowds thinned and I spied the skyway to the hotel in the distance. The closer I got to the skyway the quieter the noise of the con itself became, and the clearer my thoughts.

I wanted to stay mad, but I just couldn’t manage it. I was too tired, and too frazzled, and the truth of it was, after spending all day worrying about having already spent a night in bed with Brian, it was getting just a bit old to keep dwelling on it. After all, what was the big deal anyway?

I closed my eyes for a moment as I crossed the skyway itself and took a deep breath before continuing on.

It was a big deal to me, I admitted, mostly because it seemed like it was ONLY a big deal to me. Brian hadn’t thought twice about us sharing a bed, or sharing one again. Nobody else thought it was a big deal, either. If I were being honest, I didn’t even feel like it was a bad thing, just… I don’t know. Worth acknowledging, at least?

I was still pondering that when I made it to the door of the room and scanned my card key. The lights came on automatically as I walked toward the bed, sitting there and staring me down with its oxblood-red comforter with the navy-blue trim and matching pillows… and the stuffed pup sitting in the middle of it.

I dropped my things off in one of the chairs tucked into the corner near the little table every hotel room had, and approached the stuffie, looking at it closely.

Sure enough, it was the one from my bed at home.

When had he snuck in and grabbed it? WHY had he snuck in and grabbed it? I pondered both those questions as I sat down on the bed, sinking deep into the rich plushness, and reached out to pick the pup up.

“How did you get here?” I asked it accusingly.

The pup stared at me with its sparkly, friendly eyes, with a puppy smile that said I was its best friend in the world.

With a harrumph, I dropped back onto the bed and pulled the pup up to sit on my chest. Thinking better of it, I tucked it down into the crook of my elbow.

“What are we gonna do?” I asked it as I closed my eyes, not expecting an answer and thankfully not getting one.

Soon enough, the roaring of my thoughts calmed enough I felt myself slip into sleep.

-==-

NOTES:

Chapter 23 is now available to read On the BCTS Patreon! It's got dinosaurs!

Well, dinosaur. Singular.

Comments and kudos appreciated.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 23 -- Waking Up

I was dreaming.

I knew I was dreaming because I normally didn’t have afternoon tea with banana-yellow velociraptors in the waking world.

“That is a conundrum, dearie,” Mrs. Raptor said, sipping her tea primly.

“Yeah,” I agreed, sipping my own equally carefully. She’d already chided me once – gently – for letting some tea drip onto my dress, and I wasn’t looking forward to Aunt Cici’s reaction when she saw the dark brown spots on the delicate lace. “I just wish I knew what to do about him.”

“Well, you could start by answering your phone,” Mrs. Raptor told me with a smile that was warm despite the razor-sharp teeth it bared.

“My phone?” I asked her, as the droning noise that had been eating at the back of my mind clarified into the sound of a classic bell ringtone.

“Mrrfm,” I grumbled as I sat up on the bed, my arms still wrapped around the stuffed pup. It took me another minute or so – and another round of ringing – before I woke up enough to realize it was the room’s phone, not my cell phone, and flopped over to reach the handset on the side of the bed.

“Hmmfh?” I mumbled into the phone as I rolled over on my back, lifting the stuffed pup to sit on the baby bump.

“Wake up call for one Miss Serrano?” A woman’s voice said.

“Nnh.” I grumbled, blinking. “I didn’t order a wake-up call.”

“No, ma’am. The request was placed by Mr. Venable.”

Brian.

“Fine,” I whined. Then, remembering I was talking to a person and not a computer, I blushed. “Umm, thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” the woman on the other end said, chuckling slightly.

I hung the phone back up on the second attempt and considered going back to sleep but thought better of it. If Brian put in a wake-up call for me, then there must be something I needed to be up for.

“You got any ideas?” I asked the pup, fiddling with one of its ears while I waited for a response.

Getting no help from the stuffie, I moved them up to the pillow and rolled off the bed, groaning a bit more than the effort probably warranted but less than I really wanted to. I started for my bag to grab my phone, but changed my mind on the way and instead went to the bathroom to relieve some of the baby-worsened pressure before returning and checking for messages.

“Three missed calls?” I said, surprised by the notification on the front of my phone until I remembered silencing it before heading back to the room. “And two texts.” Two of the calls were from Maria, shortly after I’d sent the group text I was going to lie down, and the last one was Brian. Both texts were from Brian, too, and later than the call, so I decided to check those before returning any calls.

As soon as I opened the first text, I started laughing. It was another photo of Brian, this time surrounded by big, burly men all glaring down at him. Attached was the message “oops, the husbands showed up.” The second text had been sent shortly after his attempted call and just said, “called you in an alarm. Dinner with the crew @ 5:30, hotel restaurant.”

Checking the clock on my phone; it was just after five. I considered texting him back I didn’t feel like eating, but my belly grumbled at the idea of missing the meal, so instead, I got up and headed back to the bathroom, this time to make sure I was presentable. That done, I made sure my things were in my bag and left the room, ignoring the elevator and instead heading for the stairs, since I had the time.

I cradled the baby bump as I walked. Truth be told, I was almost used to the weight now. I wondered how accurate it was to a real baby, and how different it would feel to really be pregnant. To have a life growing inside of you….

I almost smiled at the idea, which also made me want to frown, but I also didn’t want to frown at the idea of a baby, so instead, I felt my face twitch in protest at the mixed signals it was getting and settle on a sneeze.

I fetched a tissue from my bag and laughed as I made sure my nose was clear. How foolish was I being about all this anyway? I’d spent the last couple of weeks in a massive fuss about the belly, and the costumes, and people seeing me as a woman, and now here I was thinking about real babies?

I was still laughing as I lowered myself onto one of the steps. I still had plenty of time, right? I pulled my phone out again to double-check, and while I had it out turned the ringer back on and sent out another group text, letting everyone know I’d be down for dinner. That done, I once again found myself cradling the baby.

My baby.

Brian’s baby?

No, Lunea and Burg’s baby, right?

It sure felt like it was my baby.

My laughter died as I fought not to cry instead. I’d spent my entire life being mistaken for a girl, being told I acted like one or looked like one or sounded like one. I’d fought it, I’d deluded myself into thinking it wasn’t true; it was all just people giving me a hard time because I didn’t fit their ideas of what a guy was.

Now here I sat, in what I had to admit was a very cute dress and elf ears and makeup… and with a baby bump protruding beneath a set of tits that were more real than I would have admitted even a week ago. I was on my way down to have dinner with my best friends, including the guy who was, for all intents and purposes, my baby’s father, and now I was having an emotional meltdown in the stairway after having napped with the stuffed dog he bought me after getting pissed over a picture of him with other girls hanging off him.

“Rrrrrgh!” I growled, the sound echoing off the walls around me but still not picking up much real menace. I’d never been able to conjure menace well, and the elf princess getup didn’t make me any better at it.

Why hadn’t I just played a guy character like Brian and Aaron? I almost always played girls in games when I had a chance, even when I streamed, and I knew that didn’t help my case. I should just play guys. Then none of this would happen, right?

I thought about that, about the changes I’d have to make if I wanted to prove I was a guy. They weren’t hard, or really time-consuming or anything.

So... why didn’t I actually want to do them?

The answer struck me, and again I found myself letting out a tired laugh.

I didn’t want to do them because they weren’t fun.

I’d played guys in tabletop before. I’d played guys in video games where I could make my own characters, too. I’d played guys in games that had character choice. But I’d always ended up feeling like I was missing out on the real fun I could have, like I was having to play in ways that didn’t feel enjoyable to me.

Playing girls felt… right, in a way that guys didn’t. Playing girls felt more fun.

I looked down at my baby bump again, my arms still wrapped around it protectively.

Even with all the confusion about whether I was a man or a woman, a guy or a girl, I’d kept picking girls or feminine characters because I enjoyed them more. Even sitting in the too-warm stairway in my too-short dress, I couldn’t imagine having not played Lunea, or having not made the decisions I had. Yeah, I was frustrated at a lot of what was going down, but if I could go back and actually change any of my choices, would I?

Would I?

....

“No.”

I said it aloud, the words echoing in the stairwell with more strength than my earlier growl had.

“No,” I said again, smiling around the word.

I liked Lunea. I liked Burg, and Sunny, and my teammates, and the adventures we’d had together.

And I liked Brian, and Sydney, and my friends, and the stories we’d told. I liked streaming tabletop, and streaming video games, and my mod team and my game streaming friends I’d race and do raids in Heimdall with. They were all good.

They were all fun.

So… why wasn’t I letting it be fun right now?

I’d spent so much time recently worrying about money, and about metrics and marketing, and making a career of the games I used to love.

That I still love.

Where in there did I lose sight of just letting myself enjoy them? And where in all of that did I stop thinking about what I wanted and instead start thinking of it as what others wanted?

What DO I want?

“I want to have fun,” I said, once again out loud. Once again, the echoes called back to me, loud and proud.

I looked down at my baby bump again and thought about what it represented. The experiences not only of my character, but of me as a player, and as a person. The hard work that had gone into making all this happen, and the pride of the people who had helped me get here. For so many of them, it wasn’t about doing it for our fans: they helped me because they wanted to do it for me.

I patted the baby bump gently, then stood up.

“Come on, Leigh,” I said to myself, trying to sound as confident as my echo. “Let’s have fun.”

###

NOTES:

Chapter 24 is now up on the BCTS Patreon!

https://www.patreon.com/posts/wednesday-24-by-86032869

Comments and kudos appreciated: I respond when I can!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 24 – An Evening With Friends

It took another three and a half flights of stairs for me to get down to the lobby and another flight back up once I learned the restaurant was on the building’s second floor. I was mulling over the desk attendant’s somewhat confusing directions when I pushed open the second-floor door, only to see Brian about ten feet from the door on the other side.

“Oh!” I said, jumping a bit but quashing the instinct to step back into the stairwell.

Brian chuckled. “I was just coming to make sure you were doing okay.”

“I’m fine,” I said, smiling up at him. “Why were you coming toward the stairs instead of the elevator?”

“You took them, didn’t you?”

“...Touché,” I agreed, giving him a suspicious look. “You know me too well, and now you must perish.”

Brian laughed again and closed the distance between us, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and giving me a gentle squeeze. “Can it wait ‘til after dinner?”

“This time,” I agreed, bumping him with my elbow and getting a happy but odd smile. “What?”

“Hmm? Oh, you just seem like you’re feeling happier, is all,” he said, squeezing me again as we walked down the hallway.

“I think I just needed a nap,” I told him.

“Maybe so,” he agreed, sounding unconvinced. “It’s nice to see though.”

“Oh, have I been too grumpy lately?” I asked, scowling at him.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said, backing away from me a bit and putting up his hands, though his eyes were still crinkled with humor.

I sighed. “I kinda have been though,” I admitted. “But that’s gonna change. I’ve decided that this stuff’s supposed to be fun, so might as well try and enjoy it, right?”

“Right!” He agreed. “And left.”

“What?”

“To the restaurant.”

“Oh!”

The restaurant was called Cafe Kramer – appropriate, I suppose, given the hotel – and was made up to look like something I could only describe as halfway between an old-west saloon and a Cracker Barrel. The walls were covered in carefully faux-aged wood slats and old, rusty farming implements, and it had a darker floor that looked wood at first glance but felt like either tile or linoleum over concrete under my feet.

Combined with the country music blaring over the sound system and the bare tin with rough-cut wooden guards separating the tables and booths, it looked exactly like any of a number of “good ol' south” type restaurants I’d seen back home.

“Four hundred miles from home, but it almost feels like we never left,” Brian said with a heavy sigh, causing me to laugh since I’d been thinking almost the exact same thing. “Group’s over there.”

“Then lead the way, good Druid.”

“That I will, M’lady, that I will.”

The others waved as we approached, but nobody bothered to call out to us over the noise of the room. Brian using a hand in the middle of my back to guide me to a chair and then pulling it out for me did get us a couple of amused looks, but I ignored them.

“She finally makes it!” Maria crowed from her position at the nominal head of the table. “We thought you’d gotten abducted or something.”

“Nay, the brave druid kept me safe,” I tossed back, still in character after my and Brian’s exchange on the way to the table.

“Ah, so he did!” Aaron said, jumping into character as well. “Our thanks to the Druid who brought our princess safely to thine tavern.”

“Hail!” Sydney cheered, loud enough the table behind her turned to see what the fuss was.

“Hail!” Maria, Brian, and Deidre tossed in, too, before we all burst into laughter. Jonah rolled his eyes but didn’t even smirk when he did so, so I considered that as much positivity as I was gonna get from him for the evening.

"And would the noble lady care for a drink?" asked a waitress who seemed to apparate to my shoulder. To my surprise, she was in costume like us, with one of the restaurant's aprons tied over a set of neat-looking leather armor and her own set of elf ears peeking out through her hair.

"Indeed!" I said once I'd regained my composure. "What ales and fine wines do you have on offer, wench?"

She rattled off a list of drinks to me, then looked down and seemed to notice my baby bump for the first time. "M'lady...."

I sighed. "Just a coke is fine," I said, breaking character, but gave the waitress a smile to make sure she knew I wasn't upset.

"Very well. I'll be back to take food orders shortly."

I thanked her, then turned back to the rest of the table, who were looking at me with a mixture of amusement and puzzlement.

"Been getting that kind of thing a lot today?" Maria asked me, then took a sip of her own obviously alcoholic beverage.

"UGH," I groaned in response, slouching in my seat for just a moment before pulling myself back upright so as not to hurt my dress. "You wouldn't believe some of the crud I've had to deal with today."

"Guys holding doors for you, kindly older ladies asking when she's due, people offering you seats?"

"I mean, yeah," I agreed, shrugging. Then I glared at Maria. "She?"

"I'm kicking around ideas for if your kiddo's a boy or a girl, so I've got plans whatever the dice decide."

I tried to glare harder at her, but that only made her grin all the wider, so I brushed it off and continued. "I think I need to get a wedding band or something to wear with this damn thing, just so I get fewer questions about that, too."

Suddenly everyone's gazes turned to Brian.

"Hmm?" he said, looking up from his menu and shrugging. "What?"

"Nothing," Sydney said in a sing-song voice, then continued the sing-songiness into humming a few lines of 'Here Comes the Bride.'

Brian looked at her.

Then he looked at me.

Then he looked at the baby bump.

"Paternity test first."

"Hey!"

The rest of our friends laughed, and after a moment -- and a playful wink from Brian -- I did too.

"If you need a ring, I bet Aunt Cici can set you up with something later," Maria assured me. "She brought along a toolbox full of spare incidental props and repair materials just in case. I'd imagine she's got a wedding band in there somewhere."

"Aww, so no proposal?" Sydney asked, seeming legitimately disappointed.

"Not yet," Deidre said without looking up from her own menu.

Ugh.

"Dinner's on the business account. One alcoholic drink each," I made sure to get in before the cheering got too loud. That got a snort from Jonah and a few disappointed frowns from the rest of the table, but I found it hard to feel bad about it.

We spent the next few moments studying the menus, and I did my best to tune the sounds and smells of the room out as I figured out what I wanted. When the waitress returned with my drink, I was ready.

"Loaded baked potato."

"Ooh, that sounds good. Me too," Brian said.

"Coulda got tacos," I pointed out to him.

"Nah," he said, pointing to one of the nearby tables, where a plate of tacos sat. "See the shells? That ain't a taco."

"Aah," I said, rolling my eyes but not disagreeing with him. If there was one thing Brian took seriously, it was his tacos.

With the food order placed, and the waitress aware that I was taking care of the bill, the conversation resumed.

"...and after I got Jackson's autograph, we took some photos with fans in front of the doors to the auditorium. Have you guys seen that place yet?" Sydney asked around a mouthful of fried zucchini appetizer.

"Only in photos," I admitted. "It looked pretty big, though."

"Big is an understatement! I've been to concerts in smaller places!"

"That wasn't a concert. It was your cousin's band playing in the basement of an old flophouse," Deidre disagreed.

"We had to pay cover, so it counts! Anyway, place is massive."

"I didn't think anyone other than staff was supposed to be in there yet," I said, a little surprised. "I was told it was only being used for our shows, so we could leave things set up."

"Oh, Todd -- the camera guy we hired back in January? -- he let me in to check things out."

"Hmm," I hmmm'd.

"Don't be like that. He's been trying to get in my pants and just wanted to show off a bit. It's fine."

"Funny, guys don't usually have to try that hard."

"Hey!" Sydney complained, not at all actually offended by Deidre's barb. "Todd's a bit of a tool, but he wears a size fourteen shoe, so who knows," she said, giving me, Maria, and Deidre significant looks. "He -- oh, hey, food!"

The food was enough distraction that all conversation ceased for a while, giving me time to contemplate Syd's shoe comment.

Brian wore a size thirteen, didn't he?

I was pretty sure he did.

For some reason, that made me blush.

The potato was good and even bigger than I'd expected, enough so I was barely halfway through with it and considering a to-go box when I saw that Brian's plate was already empty.

"Did you even taste it?" I asked him, causing Aaron to choke-laugh around a mouthful of the steak he had ordered.

"A bit here and there," Brian agreed, eyeing my own plate. "You not gonna eat any more than that?"

"I don't think I could if I tried," I said, pushing my plate his way.

"And here I thought pregnant girls were supposed to be insatiable."

"That's ice cream and pickles," Maria said, getting a nod of agreement from Deidre.

"Ice cream?" I said, perking up a bit at that. "I mean, I could probably find a little more room...."

It was... fun, just sitting and chatting with everyone, and for the first time in a while, I felt like I was actually relaxing around my friends.

Just how long had I been letting the stress get to me?

And why?

"Hey, you all right?" Brian asked, leaning over and giving my shoulder a squeeze.

I looked in his eyes and saw the care and concern there. Then I looked around the table at all my friends, smiling and laughing. Oh, and Jonah was there too, and he didn't even seem to be trying to look annoyed.

"I'm great," I said, reaching up and squeezing his hand but letting it go just as quickly. I was great, but I was still confused by us.

That could wait 'til later, though.

"So, what's everyone else got planned for tonight?" Maria asked the table as the waitress cleared away the last of the dinner and dessert plates, mine not being the only ice cream bowl.

"Updating our social feeds," Syd said, with less enthusiasm than she'd had during the meal.

"I need to get back to our merch agent about an issue with the new mugs," Deidre said, holding up her phone for us to see the email displayed on it.

"I have to call one of the donors to the youth center to double-check a pledge," Aaron admitted, shrugging.

"Wow, busy, busy," Maria said. "I guess I could double-check my materials for the game tomorrow?"

I looked at the group again, seeing hints of the same stress I had been feeling. Maybe I wasn't the only one who needed to relax a bit more.

I pulled out my program for the con and looked over the night's events and couldn't help but laugh. "Guys, I got a better idea."

"Hmm?"

I held up the program so everyone could see it. "Who here wants to see a Rocky Horror show?"

"The merch guy can wait," Deidre agreed, her eyes sparkling.

"I can probably put together a Magenta costume if you give me half an hour. Think Cici would help?" Syd asked, giving Maria a pleading look.

Maria chuckled. "Guess if things go sideways tomorrow, I'll blame Leigh. Sure, let's go!"

I looked over at Brian again, saw his smile, and smiled back. He squeezed my shoulder again, and this time when I squeezed his hand, I kept mine there.

-==-

Chapter 25 is now available on the BCTS Patreon for everyone! Be sure to check it out, give it a heart, maybe comment.

BCTS lives and/or dies by donations. We know not everyone can afford to help, but we thank you all for your contributions to our community -- be it comments, stories, or anything else.

Comments and kudos appreciated: I'll to my best to respond!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 25 -- Bolster

I woke up the next morning warm, comfortable and feeling oddly heavier than normal. I laid there for at least ten minutes, half-asleep and trying to figure out why I seemed to be held in place before my brain began to sort things out.

I was in a king-size bed in a hotel room in Austin, Texas.

I was tucked against the bolster Brian and I had made the night before to give us separate sides of the bed, my back pressed firmly to it.

I couldn't move because, at some point in the night, Brian had wrapped an arm across the bolster and was holding on to me, his hand resting on the baby bump.

Just the morning before, waking up next to Brian had sent me into a panic, not helped by my alcohol-fueled discomfort. With a clearer head and my resolution from the stairwell in mind, I took a deep breath and kept relaxed. As if he sensed my waking, Brian grumbled sleepily, his face pressed into the bolster, and gave the baby bump a gentle pat.

I considered moving his arm but decided against it. Instead, I laid my own arm on top of his, my fingers atop his knuckles, and kept my eyes closed, enjoying the luxurious sheets and the sense of safety I felt.

Why had being so close terrified me the day before but not now? Was the bolster what made the difference? Or just my awareness of the situation?

We'd all had a blast at the Rocky Horror presentation. Sydney had, indeed, managed a half-decent Magenta, but the rest of us had simply gone in our con outfits. Once again, Jonah surprised me by coming along with us, even if he did hang back from the group.

When we'd gotten back to our room, Brian had given me a long look and asked, "Do you want me to sleep on the floor?"

I think I surprised both of us with how quickly I said, "No."

We were both smiling as we rolled up one of the spare blankets out of the closet and slid it under the sheets, and Brian made sure the stuffed pup was on my side of the bed when things were done.

There was a good night hug and a delay after before we let each other go. I don't think I was the only one of us wondering if more would happen... but it didn't.

Brian flexed his fingers, rubbed my baby bump, and mumbled something again. I patted his hand gently, and that seemed to calm him back down.

Had we been curled together like this the day before, before I woke up?

I wish I could remember.

I suppressed a yawn as I finally forced my eyes open, moving as little as possible while I did a visual search of the bedside table until I found the alarm clock.

Nine fifteen.

This time I didn't try to suppress the yawn or the follow-up groan of disappointment as I gently moved Brian's arm off of me and floundered about until I managed to roll myself off the entirely too-large bed.

"Hrmph?" Brian mumbled, seeming to have finally extracted his face from the bolster.

"Go back 'sleep," I grumbled as I stood up.

"H'nkay." I turned around in time to see Brian toss his arm across the bolster again, and the little frown that crinkled the corner of his mouth as he searched for me before he fell asleep again.

"Nine fifteen," I whispered to myself as I opened my bags and started sorting through things.

My itinerary for the day was fairly open until about four that evening. Unlike Maria, I hadn't been asked to speak at any panels during the con, so I was pretty well free to do what I wanted until the group photos and pre-game planning session at four that afternoon. Now that I was awake, though, I could already hear activity in the common room attached to our suite, telling me that either Maria or Aunt Cici -- or both -- were already at work on something or other.

I gave Brian's still-sleeping form a smile, then tossed on one of the terrycloth robes the hotel had left in our room and, quietly as I could, opened the interconnecting door.

Maria was sitting on one of the stools at the small island-cum-bar in one corner of the room, sipping a mug of coffee and looking for all the world like she was ready to crawl right back into bed, down to her lemon-yellow pajamas. Aunt Cici, on the other hand, was already dressed in full boho, her multicolored broomstick skirt and peasant top fluttering about as she went from one garment rack to another, to a toolbox, to a table where she had a sewing machine set up. Both of them stopped what they were doing and turned to watch me as I entered.

"Ah, mija! You're awake! And so cute!" Aunt Cici said, dashing across the room and giving me a big hug. "I'm so sorry I was not here to give you a touch-up yesterday when you got in!"

"It's okay Aunt Cici," I said, chuckling a little as I hugged her back. "It's not like I've never done repairs on my con makeup before."

"Oh, and you were beautiful! Maria sent me pictures!" Aunt Cici crowed, holding me at arms' length and looking me up and down. "Even now, you are adorable, mija."

"And stinky," I countered, stepping away from her but still smiling. "What has you two up so early?"

"Paperwork," Maria moaned, waving at the island that I now noticed was covered in folders and notebooks. "I had an email from ATG when I got back to the room last night asking me if I'd gotten the contracts with our artists for the book taken care of, since their records aren't up to date, so." She picked up a sheaf of papers and rattled it.

"Yeesh."

"You're tellin' me. When Aunt Cici's alarm went off this morning I got up to take care of it. I figure I'll give 'em two hours this morning, and if it runs longer than that, they'll just have to wait 'til we get back."

"You work yourself too hard, pollita. You should be having fun with your friends!" Aunt Cici said, frowning at the papers in front of Maria. "Let the men in suits worry for a day or two. They send you here to advertise for them, you will do a better job with a smile than with a furrowed brow."

"I..." Maria grinned and stacked her paperwork with a sigh. "You're right."

"Of course I am," Aunt Cici said, walking over and wrapping Maria in a hug before turning her attention back to me. "So, miss stinky, you go shower and put on that white lingerie you sent me pictures of, and when you get back, we will get you sewn into your dress for the day."

"Yes ma'-- wait. Sewn?"

"Shoo!" Aunt Cici said, explaining no more as she pushed me back through the adjoining door, though I heard Maria cackling from behind her.

The heavy click of the door closing behind me seemed to be the final nail in the coffin for Brian's own sleep, and he gave me a drowsy one-eyed grin over the bolster as I stood just inside the door.

"Did I hear something about you doing some sewing?"

"No," I said as I went over to my bags again and started putting aside the things I needed. "I guess Cici has to sew me into my dress for today."

"Huh. Kinky."

I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore the grunts from behind me as Brian had his turn to swim across the bed in search of an edge. "Bathroom bathroom," he said.

"Be quick, I need a shower!" I called as he dashed past me.

"Me first," he said, chuckling as he closed the door behind him.

"Brian!"

*CLICK*

I gave the now-locked door my most dangerous glare, but it simply stood there in stalwart silence.

When I heard the sound of water splashing in the toilet bowl, it reminded me that I hadn't gone to the bathroom yet, either.

"Brian!!"

"Ten minutes!"

"Nnngh!"

I looked at the bathroom door, then at the interconnecting door. I needed to pee, but I also didn't want to run the gauntlet of Aunt Cici and Maria -- and their inevitable teasing -- to borrow their bathroom.

And I really did feel stinky.

More petulantly than I would prefer to admit, I flopped down on the bed and picked up my stuffed pup, hugging it to me while I crossed my legs tightly.

"Your daddy is a butt," I told the pup. Realizing what I'd said, I felt a blush rise in my cheeks but didn't try to correct myself since it's not like the pup would hear it anyway.

And Brian was a butt.

-==-

NOTES:

It's finally the day of the first con performance! Whoo hoo! I hope people are excited!

As per usual with Wednesday Knights, the next chapter is already up over on the BCTS Patreon. It's free for anyone to read, so if you're impatient -- or just wanna see what the Patreon has -- check it out!

Comments and kudos appreciated.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 26 -- Skimpies

Eight minutes and forty-three seconds later, the bathroom door opened, and like a flash, I was there waiting to get in. I'd have pushed past him, but something about seeing him there almost naked and still dripping made me stop in my tracks.

Brian jumped a little when he found me standing outside the door waiting for him but was in no hurry to step through. "Need in?" He asked, giving me a toothy grin.

"I'm stinky, and I need to pee," I complained, grimacing a bit at how whiny I sounded, even to myself.

"Oh?" He stepped out the door, but rather than stepping aside to let me through, he brought his hands up to my shoulders and leaned forward, sniffing my hair. "You don't smell stinky to me."

"I..." I swallowed hard, feeling my heart thump out a tango in my chest as the steam from the bathroom and Brian's still-damp body, only covered by a short towel around his waist, began to soak through my robe. "I need to pee."

"Mmm," he rumbled, still so close to my ear I could feel each breath tickling the lobe. When he did back off, there was still a bit of a grin on his face, but also an intense look that quickened the pace of the tango still beating in my heart. "Bad?"

"Yeah?" I said meekly, though in that moment, my bladder seemed far less important.

"...Okay."

I almost fell down when he finally let me go, though when I'd stopped supporting myself and started to rely on his hands to hold me up, I had no idea.

The spell seemingly broken, my bladder's needs came back full force, and I almost whimpered as I ducked around him and into the bathroom, barely getting the door closed before I disrobed, unsnapped the crotch of the body suit, and got my panties down far enough to collapse on the toilet.

What the hell just happened?

I brought a hand to my chest to cover my still dancing heart, but in the process encountered not only the now-expected obstruction of my boob but the less-expected one of a very hard point on the tip of it.

I dropped my hand again and blushed. Nope: not thinkin' about that right now.

The most urgent part of my business done, I stripped down for my much-needed shower. Once it was off, I gave the body suit a careful sniff and determined that it would be fine for another day, which was good since the other one definitely needed washed, and I didn't want to tempt the fates by finding out what Aunt Cici's 'special' one involved just yet.

Laying the bodysuit on the counter also reminded me that in my rush to get to the bathroom, I'd left my clean lingerie laying on the bed. I considered opening the door and asking Brian to bring it to me, but something about standing in the bathroom naked while asking him to fetch what I had to admit was pretty sexy skimpies for me seemed a bridge further than I was willing to go at the moment.

"Shower," I reminded myself. "Clean first, anxiety attack after."

I was tying my robe and wondering what I would do to get Brian out of the room so I could put on my underwear when a knock on the bathroom door made me jump.

"Ack!"

"Sorry. Hey, I'm gonna go down to the restaurant and grab a biscuit or something for breakfast. You want anything?"

I almost said, "No," but the rumble from my briefly unrestricted tummy made me think twice. "Yeah, sure. A fruit bowl or something?"

"Coming right up! Be, I dunno, twenty minutes?"

"'Kay, I'll probably be in the common room when you get back."

"Rodger dodger, I'll grab something for Maria and Cici, too, then."

I waited until I heard the room door click closed behind him before I breathed a sigh of relief and unlocked the bathroom door.

I put my fancy lingerie on as quickly as possible, followed by the bodysuit, and made sure not to look in the mirror as I did so. With my robe tossed on over the top, I took a deep breath and opened the door to the common room.

Aunt Cici immediately stopped working on what looked to me like a suit of chain mail and came over to hug me. "She is back! Are you ready to put on your dress?"

"As ready as I can be?" I said, toying with the tie on my robe but not undoing it. "Can I take it to my room?"

"Nonsense! It is just us girls here, and I have seen you undressed many times."

"Me too," Maria agreed, sipping what I expected was at least her third cup of coffee for the morning, given how bright her eyes were. "And I wanna see you in that fancy set of Vicky's rags we picked up."

"Vicky's?" Aunt Cici asked, then nodded. "Ah, yes. Do let us see, mija."

I thought about protesting more, but the truth of it was that they were right. I'd managed to get away without modeling any of our purchases when Maria and I had gone underwear shopping earlier in the week, but even then, she'd promised me I wouldn't get away with that forever.

With a sigh, I stopped fiddling with the tie on my robe and pulled the knot loose.

"Oh, mija...."

-==-

*knockknockknock*

"You decent in there?" Brian asked, cracking the connecting door between the common room and our room.

"No!" I hollered, causing Aunt Cici and Maria to giggle.

"Well, now I definitely wanna come in," Brian said, also laughing.

"Of course, she is decent! Get in here, pallaso."

"Too bad," Brian said, pushing the door open with his elbow. "I've got some breakfast stuff, didn't know if y'all had already eaten, so just brought some things off the continental table." He hefted two plates in his hands, one full of pastries and the other covered in mixed fruit. "I was gonna bring some drinks but didn't have an extra set of arms to -- wow." The last was said as he stopped and stared at me.

I blushed.

Truth was, I had been staring at myself in the mirror on the end of one of Aunt Cici's garment racks the entire time she'd been working, trying to figure out just when I had stopped looking like me and started looking like... that.

The dress had long sleeves and a high collar, with a stiffened spray of lace that came up far enough that it almost touched my ears. I'd thought I had all my accessories already, but when I'd mentioned grabbing them, Aunt Cici had shaken her head and pulled a box out of the same garment bag she'd had the dress stored in.

Inside the box had been a golden chain diadem with a crystal in the middle of it and a matching anklet that I wouldn't have thought would ever show below the hem of the dress, since it brushed the floor, but with how light and fluttery the whole thing was it seemed to constantly be catching the light, drawing attention to the ballet shoes she'd given me to wear.

"Boots would be more traditional," she had told me as I'd given the shoes an untrusting look, "but this dress is already an anachronism, and these will be more comfortable walking around the convention hall and on the stage."

"My boots yesterday were fine," I'd argued, but she shook her head.

"Trust me, mija."

Lord help me, I did.

With the dress, jewelry, and shoes in place, I looked like something half-way between a Tolkien elf and an advertisement for David's Bridal, and that absolutely terrified me.

"Do I look too ridiculous?" I asked Brian, watching him set the trays down on the counter without ever taking his eyes off me.

"No," said Aunt Cici, working to secure the last few stitches at my lower back to literally sew me into the dress.

"No," said Maria, grabbing my chin and holding it still while she worked applying gold and silver eyeshadow despite my protests I could do my own makeup.

"No," said Brian, walking toward me and only stopping when his choices were to do so or step on Maria. "You look...."

"Like an angel," Aunt Cici said, completing Brian's sentence for him while he continued to stare at me with a goofy grin. "And there is only one thing left to add."

"What's that?" I asked, finding myself smiling back at Brian despite my embarrassment.

"The wedding rings."

"Right, the -- wait. What?!"

I could practically hear the record scratch as both Brian, and I turned to look at Aunt Cici, Maria cursing and throwing her hands in the air when I pulled my face free of her hands.

"Yes!" Aunt Cici crowed, lifting a small box from her tool chest. "Maria told me last night that you were having trouble with the men at the convention and said you asked about wedding rings to help. I was planning to make these a gift when your characters got married in the game--"

"When?" I interrupted, giving Maria and Brian a panicked look.

"--but it seems you need them now," Aunt Cici continued, opening the box reverentially then turning it so that Brian and I could see the contents.

"Wow," I said, echoing Brian's earlier comment, while he nodded in agreement.

-==-

NOTES:

Yesterday's chapter, today!

As always, the next chapter can be found over on the BCTS Patreon page! It's free to read, but while you're there, consider tossing a sheckle or two our way: BCTS lives on donations.

All comments and kudos appreciated!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 27 -- Rings

I didn't care if they were for girls, I was buying myself a pair of ballet shoes when we got home, I'd decided. And I was never questioning Aunt Cici's shoe recommendations again.

It being Saturday meant the convention was in full swing, the throngs of people packed at least twice as tightly as they had been the day before. Normally, that would mean nothing but stress for me as I tried to navigate between booths and panels, due to my size.

Not so this time.

No, this time, I had a Brian with me: a Brian with armor, and a mace, and a matching wedding band to the one I now wore.

When I'd popped off the comment about a wedding band the night before, I'd been less than half serious about it. After all, what difference could a little piece of metal make? As it turned out, the answer was 'a lot,' especially when combined with Brian's insistence that he play the part. Despite the heat from the press of bodies around us, he was always touching me, with his hand on my shoulders or his arm across them, or even just holding my hand, with none of the hesitation in reaching for it he'd shown at Bog Bottom.

I could have, perhaps should have, made a fuss about it and asked him not to, but....

I was enjoying the escape from all the annoyances I usually had at cons. No guys hitting me up or getting handsy in lines. No getting bumped around by the people who didn't notice me at all. No getting talked down to by vendors because I couldn't possibly know anything about what they had or because I wouldn't let them up-sell me on something I didn't want.

No going at it alone.

Brian was busy trying to talk a vendor down on the price for a mech model, so I took the opportunity to study the ring on my hand again. It was truly beautiful, and not one band of gold but two, tightly braided together with a single, small stone embedded in the top. The braids were fine but just a little rustic, like they were done by hand, and though I doubted the stone was a diamond, it certainly sparkled like one. There was a small indent in the bottom side of the band where Aunt Cici assured me the engagement ring would normally snug around it, but when I asked about that ring, she told me she was holding on to it until I actually got engaged.

I'd considered complaining about the idea that I'd be the one getting the engagement ring but thought better of it considering what I was already wearing.

I glanced over at Brian's hand, the one holding most of our swag bags and vendor purchases. His ring was much like mine, only the band was wider, with a small sapphire in place of my diamond. I'd have thought that an emerald or other green stone would fit his character better, but it hadn't taken me long to pick up on how the glint of the sapphire had a lot of the same blues as his eyes.

Eyes that were glinting themselves as he turned back to me, smiling triumphantly.

"Get yer discount?"

"Yep! Market value plus ten bucks. I don't think he was expecting anyone here to know the price since the model only released two days ago."

"Con geeks not knowing market value on a model?" I asked incredulously as we walked away.

"I know, right?" Brian chuckled, shifting bags around so he once more had a free hand to reach out and take my own, his fingertips playing with the band on my ring finger as we walked. "Though if I'm being honest, I'da settled for twenty over. They're already selling out at all the retailers online, and it's -- what?"

"Nothing," I said, fighting back the laughter that wanted to bubble out. "I just forget how much you get into the mech models sometimes."

"Well, you won't be able to forget again once we start sharing a room."

"Sharing a room?"

"Well, we're married now," he said like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Means we gotta go get a queen-sized bed and make room in my closet for your clothes."

"It does not!"

"Yep! And it means every morning you'll wake up to the glory of my model shelf at the foot of the bed, the Model Z from Mecha Symphonia Metallicum greeting you with its laser sword held high."

"We're not actually married!" I whisper-yelled at him, afraid to say it louder lest it break whatever magic the bands were working on the crowds around us.

Brian just laughed at that and lifted my hand, kissing the gem on my ring and following that up by winking at me.

I shook my head and laughed too, which got my hand another squeeze.

We were quiet for a while, Brian leading the way between con-goers and stalls and me content to be guided, just taking in the sights and sounds and not worrying about where we were headed.

I'd promised myself to let things that were supposed to be fun, be fun. What could be more fun than spending time at a con with your best friend?

Even if we were pretending to be married.

Even if pretending to be married hadn't actually been part of my idea with the rings.

Even if....

"What's up?" I asked Brian, noticing that we'd moved into an out-of-the-way alcove.

Brian just stood there, looking down at me with those intense eyes of his.

When had he taken both my hands in his?

"Leigh...." He breathed a heavy sigh, closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again and smiling at me, a softer smile than his typical smarmy one.

"Brian," I began, but he lifted my hands and kissed the ring again, silencing me.

"Listen, I know it's... I know you don't...." he trailed off, his smile flickering for a moment before returning. "No, sorry. I think it's time we talked about...."

"Hmm?"

"This."

"This?" I asked, almost imperceptibly lifting our linked hands.

Brian nodded. "This. Us." He let go of my right hand but lifted my left higher. Without thinking about it, I let him lead me through the twirl, our free hands naturally catching one another again at the end. "What do we call this? It's not just being best friends, is it?"

I shook my head, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks as the seriousness of what he was asking sank in.

"So, what is it? Am I your boyfriend?" He asked me the question making my stomach twist in an unexpectedly pleasant way.

I gulped. "If -- if -- you were... and I'm not saying you are," I emphasized, his eyes twinkling when I did so. "But just supposing... what would that make me?" I asked him, almost whispering it. Was I excited to hear his answer... or terrified?

Both, I decided.

Brian's smile grew. "You're--"

"HEY!"

I winced, the pain feeling all too real as Brian's eyes ripped away from mine to focus somewhere over my shoulder. He dropped my hands, and I turned in place to see where he was looking. Approaching us were two people, a short but somewhat stacked girl dressed as an elven ranger, complete with an obviously fake but nicely detailed bow, and....

"Bob?" I asked, then smiled. "Ben," I corrected myself, looking up into the slender man's eyes. "I almost didn't recognize you without the cape."

"Oh, so you two did meet each other yesterday!" The short stack said, giving me a detailed once-over, then tucking herself into Ben's side.

"Told ya!" He said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and bending down to kiss her head, then grinning at me. "Yeah, the cape doesn't go so well with this costume."

I studied his new costume, a black and gray flight suit of some kind, and hazarded a guess. "Some mecha show?"

"He's Aruko Suzumaki from Mecha Symphonia," Brian said, wrapping his own arm around my shoulders much like Ben had around the elf girl's. "Leader of the Dragon Team."

"Ah, a man of taste as well! I knew I liked you," Ben said, giving Brian a thumbs up. "But no. I'm Ichi Suzumaki, his--"

"His evil twin! From episode twenty-"

"Eight, yeah," Ben said, just as excitedly as Brian. "See the maroon pinstripe?"

"Oh, yeah. How'd I miss that?"

I looked at the short stack. She looked back at me. We both rolled our eyes.

"I'm Leigh," I said, holding out my hand to her and ignoring the guys talking over our heads about giant robots and space opera politics.

"I know. I'm Laura," she said, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Better than short stack," I admitted, blushing when I realized what I'd just said aloud.

Thankfully, Laura laughed. "Not the first time I've heard that! But hey, a handful's enough, right?" She asked, poking me in the side of the boob with the limb of her bow. "It's nice to see you wearing something that shows off your figure, though. You always wear those plain tees and stuff on the show, you almost look like a boy!"

"Hah, I know, right?" I mumbled, not missing the hitch in Brian's conversation as he chuckled.

"Dunno how you've been hiding that, though!" She said, pointing at my belly now. "When I saw it last week I practically choked Benny to death. I knew you two were actually a couple!"

"You did?"

"I mean, yeah!" She said, throwing her hands up like it was obvious and sending a sympathetic wave through other parts of her anatomy. "All the touchy-feely stuff, and the looks."

"Looks?"

"Yeah, you know." She gave me an example, opening her eyes wide and giving Ben a soft, doe-eyes look of pure love before turning it off just as quickly and smiling at me. "Like that."

"Brian never looks at me like -- oh." I felt myself blushing again. Did I really do that?

"But wow! I thought last series had some tension between your characters, but this has been on another level! So, is Lunea and Burg's baby something that was brought in because, you know...."

"Huh? Oh! No," I admitted, realizing I'd wrapped my arms protectively across the baby bump and forcing myself to drop them to my sides. "This is just a prosthetic. I'm not actually pregnant."

"No shit?"

"Umm, no."

"Damnit," She sulked. "Looks like I owe Angie fifty bucks. She's my group's DM and usually watches your streams with me, and we had a bet on... anyway. So you two aren't?"

"Not for lack of trying," Brian said, squeezing my shoulders with his hands.

"WHAT?!" I screeched, loud enough to hurt my own ears as I spun on him. "Brian!"

I glared at him, all the while trying to ignore the raucous laughter from the other members of our party. "We're not... I mean, we haven't...." I trailed off, not really sure what I was trying to say.

Brian reached down to take my hand again, and I almost pulled it away before I saw the look of amusement mixed with apology on his face. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. No, we're still trying to figure out where things are going," he said, lifting my hand to his face and once again kissing the ring on my finger.

"Ohmigod, that ring!" Laura said, standing on her tiptoes to get a better look at my hand. "Is that--"

"It's just a prop, too," I admitted, pulling my hand free of Brian's once again so I could hold it out for her to see. "I was getting some looks yesterday with the belly and everything--"

"I'll bet!"

"--so our costume designer gave us these to wear. She said she had them made for our characters, but...." Once again, I found myself trailing off, looking at the ring.

"Well, they're fantastic! Do you think she'd make a set for us?"

"For you?" I asked, looking at Laura and Ben and pulling my hand back.

"Oh, not identical! But something similar? We've been looking for a nice set."

"I... sure, I guess," I agreed, reaching into my bag and pulling out one of the cards Aunt Cici had given me to pass out. "Here's her card. She works out of Baton Rouge, but she ships all over the place."

"Awesome!" Laura crowed, holding the card up triumphantly. "Hey, hon, let's go back to the room and call her!"

"She might be--"

"Pleeeease?"

Ben looked down at Laura's puppy-dog eyes, then looked further down as she bounced on her heels a bit before looking back up at Brian and shrugging. "It's been nice meeting you two," he said.

"It's been great! We'll be at the show later tonight, front row!"

We shared a few more pleasantries before they wandered off, once again leaving me and Brian tucked back from the action in our little alcove.

"Well," Brian said, breathing a heavy sigh. "That was...."

"Yep."

"And did you see her--"

"Yep."

Pause.

"How about some lunch?" he asked, taking my hand again. "I heard there's a good Japanese place about a block down the street."

"Sounds expensive."

"That's why we're putting it on the company card, right?"

I glared at Brian again, but he just laughed and gave my hand a gentle tug.

I could have fought the pull he had on me.

But I didn't.

-==-

Notes:

Next chapter we get into the actual on-stage stuff! Pretty cool, huh? And if you can't wait another week for it, then just click here to read it now! Wednesday Knights is free to read on the Patreon, but if you like what we're providing, you can access a lot of other content there for as little as a dollar pledge a month :)

Comments and kudos appreciated! I'll do my best to respond.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-
Chapter 28 -- Mic'd Up

“Stappit!”

“Sorry!” I replied meekly, holding my hands up and away from myself as Ellie – our sound tech – came over and re-clipped my lapel mic again. “It’s pulling on the neckline of my dress and --”

“I don’ care if it’s pullin’ yer hair and callin’ you Rhonda, you leave that thing where it is!” She said exasperatedly. “Damn lace dress has all o’ two places I can clip the goddamn thing an’ we wanna hear youtalkin’, not yer cooch, so it has to go here.”

She tugged on the strip of reinforced material above my left breast, and I involuntarily shifted my neck to pull back when she did so, pulling the material out of her fingers and, in the process, unclipping the lapel mic yet again.

“Oh, fer the luvva… Venable! Hold her still, would ya?”

“Sure thing,” Brian said from behind me, making me jump when he placed his hands on my shoulders.

“Good,” Ellie said, then went back to fiddling with the lapel mic, only to swear and back off. “Little bastard. Hold ‘er there while I go get a safety pin from somewhere.”

“Will do,” Brian agreed, giving my shoulders a squeeze while Ellie stormed off, leaving my lapel mic hanging from its battery pack. I breathed a sigh of relief as she disappeared around the corner, wondering how Aunt Cici would react to someone jabbing safety pins through the lace dress and deciding I was willing to let Ellie take responsibility for that decision.

“Relax,” Brian cooed in my right ear, once again squeezing my shoulders. “Remember that time Sydney knocked over one of the boom mics and broke it ten minutes before filming? Ellie cussed up a storm but got a new one in place and configured fast enough we didn’t even have to delay the stream.”

“I know,” I said, rolling my shoulders a little and taking a deep breath. “She’s good at her job.”

“’S why you hired her.”

“No, I hired her ‘cause she’s high school friends with Deidre,” I chuckled. “It is why we kept her around, though.”

“See? You’re relaxing already.”

“I guess,” I admitted, leaning back into Brian’s hands, only for him to slide them up and across my shoulders, wrapping me in a hug from behind.

Sydney glanced over at us and gave me a huge grin and a thumbs-up, which I pretended not to see. I knew that Brian and I were acting a bit closer than friends, but at the moment, I was finding it hard to really care what people thought about it.

“Five minutes, folks,” said a stagehand, not one of ours but one provided by the con.

“She’ll be back,” Brian assured me again when I must have tensed a bit.

Even before I could say anything in response, I saw Ellie coming around the corner.

“Rhonda?” I asked when she got close enough, but only got the expected glare in response, so remained quiet as she put my mic in place again now she was armed.

Even without my mic issues, the air was tense for all of us. We’d spent an hour going over stage blocking earlier in the afternoon, covering where would be good places for us to walk to or interact if we wanted to get away from the table. Being on the stage, even with an empty auditorium, save for a few stagehands, had already been daunting enough, the cavernous, dark room feeling foreboding as we’d done our final stage setting and equipment tests.

We’d retreated to the backstage area when con-goers had begun wandering in to nab seats early, but even backstage, there had still been plenty to do, from costume touch-ups to makeup adjustments to things like Ellie’s never-ending battle with the lapel mics we’d bought and brought along but never tested with our costumes.

Even as we got settled in backstage, the action calming as the last nitpicky details got taken care of — or ignored — before the show, we could all hear the noise of the crowd amping up, a dull roar that kept building as more and more people filed in to fill the seats.

When I’d first seen the hall, I’d wondered how they ever expected us to fill such a large space. Now, judging from the noise I could hear, I couldn’t help but wonder if the space was big enough.

He must have felt the tension building in my shoulders again because Brian gave me another squeeze as we stood there. “Hey, we got this. It’s just like any other session: all we gotta do is roll some dice, stay in character, and have fun.”

“No sodas on the table,” Sydney said, frowning a bit. Being denied her mid-game caffeine had been a big damper on her excitement for the evening.

“We’ll live,” Aaron said, bumping her with one of his pauldrons.

“No chairs,” Deidre added, picking at a loose bit of paper sticking out of the hardbound sketchbook she was carrying in place of a holy book for her cleric.

“Sacrificed so we can move around the stage and act things out a bit,” Maria said, straightening her hood and fanning the sides of her cloak. Lightweight or not, it was eighty backstage, if it was anything. “And there are some folding chairs if we need ‘em.”

“No mid-game tacos,” I said, feeling Brian’s arms stiffen around me.

“Maybe we should reconsider--”

“Live in one!”

Brian whimpered, just loud enough for the rest of us to hear.

-==-

“Halt!”

My shoulders tensed, the conversation I was having with Sunny forgotten in an instant as we both turned our attention to where Adrian stood with his shield raised, eyes alert. I heard the soft sounds of metal on leather as my companions drew their weapons around me, and I grasped my own staff tightly, wringing my hands around the bindings to free them of sweat.

We had expected some kind of ambush even before we’d entered the narrow canyon and had prepared accordingly, donning armor and stowing what we could in our Bottomless Bags to keep our load light. With Adrian at our front and Burg taking rear guard, we were prepared for an assault from either direction, but even with our paladin’s warning, I couldn’t see any threat before us.

Then I smelled it, the sickening meaty stench of--

“Wretches!” Sunny called, half in alarm and half in glee, as the attack came not from ahead or behind but from the cliffs above us, the half-rotten corpses tumbling down the walls without regard for injury in their haste to capture us.

“Both sides!” Dahlia yelled, even as I felt the frosty crackle of her protective magics flowing over me, knowing without being told that she had cast a spell over our party to help ward against the evil undead.

As the corpses gathered around us, moving in like a festering wave of malignant, hungry flesh, my companions brought their weapons to the ready, the last glimmers of daylight glinting off their steely blades and maces, even as the sun, already low in the sky, sunk even further beyond the edge of the canyon above us, enveloping us in shadow.

##

“Everyone, roll for initiative.”

It took me a moment to shake my head clear, my fingers aching as I loosened my grip on the staff I was holding at the ready, just like Lunea had been.

The table the convention had provided us with was a large half-circle conference table our stage crew had placed near the center-back of the stage, with us arranged in wings to either side of Maria. I was in the middle on the stage-left side, placed as usual between Aaron and Brian. I had walked around the table, acting out my roleplay, but it was only a few steps to get back to the table and grab my dice.

“Fifteen.”

“Seven.”

“Eighteen.”

“Twenty-two.”

“Eleven.”

“Leigh?”

“Four,” I whimpered, wishing – and not for the first time – I’d taken the feature to let me act faster during combat. The crowd seemed to agree as I heard a few pained sounds coming from the shadows beyond the edge of the stage.

“Oof,” Maria said, rolling a few of her own dice and wincing before giving me an apologetic look.

##

I screamed as the Wretch’s claws tore through the material of my robe, a spray of blood flying from the wound as I spun about to face my attacker. My skin crackled where the claws had rent it, assuring me that Dahlia’s magic was doing its work, preventing the necrotizing poison from affecting me.

The spell I had been planning to cast fizzled on my lips as I stared into the thing’s sunken, soulless eyes, glowing in the dark with the power of the necromantic magic that kept them alive.

The beast let out an unholy bellow and lunged again, but this time I caught its claws with my staff, bringing the heavy jewelled head around to bash the creature in the side of the temple. It fell to the ground, stunned, and I wasted no time as I recited the incantation for my Fire Pillar spell, engulfing the creature in a jet of fierce energy that helped to light the area around us.

There were more of them, so many more. My companions were making quick work of individual Wretches, but such creatures never came in small groups, and for every one we took down, three more seemed to fill its space.

Could we…?

I placed a hand protectively on my belly – my child – and grinned.

We could. And we would.

Seeing an opening between my friends, I pointed my staff and bellowed the words for another Fire Pillar spell, channeling some of the latent magic in the air around us to boost its power.

This one would take out more than just one lowly Wretch.

Many, many more.

##

I breathed heavily as I held my staff above my head and cried out. The answering cry from the crowd startled me, the reminder of who and where I was almost as much of a shock to my system as I imagined the pain from the Wretch's claws was to Lunea.

But I wasn't Lunea. I was Leigh, and I was standing on a stage, dressed as an elven sorceress and screaming at fake monsters while protecting my unborn child.

For a moment, I wasn't sure if I was having the best or worst time of my life.

##

The familiar tinkling of Maria's play bell pulled my eyes back toward where she still stood at the table. "We're gonna pause here for the mid-session break, folks. Normally we'd break for about fifteen minutes, but we're taking twenty due to the live nature of the show. I've been asked to remind everyone that both refreshments and merch are available out front. Thank you."

The stage lights dimmed as applause washed out from the audience, and I felt more than saw the curtain pull into place between us and the crowded room beyond. There was still enough light for me to see my fellow cast members, most of them out in the middle of the stage just like I was and breathing just as heavily.

"Mics off," one of the hands called from stage left, and I heard more than one of my friends let out a sigh of relief.

"That was . . . ." Aaron began, then huffed a bit and leaned on the table.

"Intense," Sunny said, dropping the head of her axe to the stage and leaning on the handle. "Acting stuff out's a lot more tiring than just roleplaying at the table."

"You coulda stayed at the table if ya wanted," Deidre reminded her, dropping into a seizen position I wished I could do in my own costume.

"And be shown up by her?" Sunny asked, pointing at me and grinning. "No way!"

I blushed. "Well, we have the whole stage, and we set it up so we could come out here…."

"Don't worry about it," Brian assured me, almost wrapping an arm around my shoulders before changing his mind and patting my back instead. "Did you hear how much more into it the crowd got when we started acting stuff out?"

"Not really," I admitted, blushing even more. "I was kinda getting a bit too focused?"

"We noticed," Maria said, laying her robe over the back of one of the unfolded chairs and running her fingers through her sweat-soaked hair. "I want to make a few changes to things after tonight's session to make the whole acting part easier."

"Sorry!"

"Don't be!" she said, wrapping me in a tight hug despite our sweatiness. "I'm loving it!"

Everyone else was nodding their agreement, so I shook my embarrassment off.

"Fifteen minutes," one of the hands called, probably the same one from earlier.

"Anyone got anything they need to do before the next part of the session?"

"Pee!" Sunny called, racing past us, her axe abandoned on the floor.

"Meditate," Deidre said, closing her eyes and rolling her neck and shoulders.

"Snack," Brian admitted, shrugging his shoulders. "You want anything?"

"A bucket of ice?"

"How about a cold water?"

"Deal," I agreed, unfolding another one of the chairs and dropping into it.

I leaned back as much as I could and stretched my shoulders, then pulled the pocket watch out of my belt pouch and checked the time.

Another hour and a half of playtime once the break was over, and that's assuming we didn't run over. There was nothing else planned for the auditorium, so it was fine if we did, but still.

And now I had to pee, too.

Whoo boy.

-==-

Notes:

it's the usual, folks! Chapter 29 is now up over on Patreon, so if you want to check it out a week before it hits the BCTS shelves, you can! You don't have to be a member, either (though if you decide you wanna be....)

Comments and kudos appreciated.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 29 -- Three's A Crowd

"...and as you stack the last of the corpses on the bonfire, you hear the approach of heavy, largefootsteps."

I whimpered and looked around at the rest of the crew nervously. I was almost entirely out of magic power, and with us being on the way to the Hold of the Fire Giants, that was a dangerous situation to be in.

"From the gloom beyond the firelight emerges a shadowy form, tall as a tree, the red tones in its skin matching those of the flames."

Oh shit.

"The figure bends down and grins at your party, its head full of wild smoke-like hair billowing in the draft from the fire. 'Greetings, little ones,'" Maria said, shifting her tone of voice as she got into character. "'Mah name's Mato, and Ah'm here to help.'"

"Help?" I asked, a bit more panicked than I'd have liked, and jumped as once again Maria's play bell rang out.

"And that's where we're stopping for today," Maria said, receiving a mixture of clapping and disappointed catcalling from the audience. "Hey, if I were to push on, we'd be here all night!"

"Go for it!" A guy's voice came from the audience, followed by laughter and cheers from a number of folks.

"We would," Maria responded, "but we're all tired, and thirsty, and hungry."

"And sleepy," Deidre added, yawning. I felt myself involuntarily yawn with her, realizing just how drained I truly felt.

'Plus," Maria continued, "if we stayed up all night playing, there's not enough caffeine in all of Austin to keep everyone awake for the con events tomorrow. We'll be back here tomorrow evening at six. For now, we love you, we thank you for coming, and good gaming."

More cheers came from the crowd as the curtains fell once again, though not before the auditorium lights came on, and I had a chance to see just how many people were watching us.

Holy . . . .

"Mics are off."

"Place has a capacity of about eleven hundred people," Sydney said, hugging me from the side. "Todd texted me at half-time, said we had the place at about seventy percent capacity. I hear they're considering having the crew move our stuff to the main show hall for tomorrow night's game, just in case."

"Seventy... that's over seven hundred people!"

"Hits a bit different than when they're on the other side of a computer, don't it?" Maria said, hugging me from the other side.

"...Yeah."

We continued staring at the back of the curtain for a few more moments, just thinking about all the people who had been on the other side.

"Is this a private love-in, or can I join too?" Brian asked, wrapping his arms around my shoulders from behind once again.

Sydney laughed. "You can have my spot. Anyone seen Jonah?" She asked, stepping away from me.

"He's talking to the camera crew about tonight's footage," Maria said, also letting me go.

"Probably making sure at least half of it's focused on him."

"He did that once," I pointed out, not sure why I was defending him given he'd been just as surly during the game as usual. "And to be fair, that was that time his warlock critical killed that bandit leader who'd slaughtered your character's family."

"True," Syd admitted, shrugging. "Still."

As she walked off, I looked around to see where the rest of our crew had gotten to.

Deidre was off to the side, sitting in a folding chair and sipping at a bottle of water while talking to the hands about something to do with the set decorations, and I just caught Aaron's back as he walked off the set, cell phone to his ear, probably talking to someone about one of the youth centers. Our film crew was bustling about adjusting this or moving that.

"Five minutes, and we'll gather near the makeup area for a post-action review," Maria said, giving Brian's arms wrapped around my shoulders and neck a delighted grin. "I think I need to call the office at ATG: I'm pretty sure tonight's audience response was the bargaining chip I need on my monster."

"All right," Brian answered for us, squeezing me gently. I smiled and waved at her as she walked away, leaving the two of us standing there. We were in the middle of all the action, but in another way, very much on our own.

"What time is it?" I asked, leaning back against Brian and closing my eyes.

"Almost eleven."

"Really?" I wasn't sure whether I was more surprised at how late it was, or that it wasn't even later.

"Yep."

"How--"

"Photos at four, pre-game meeting at five, position marking at five-thirty," he rattled off, tapping out each point above my right breast as he did. "We got the session started on time, took a break a bit after eight. We started again about eight-thirty, aaaand... yep."

"I didn't think we'd go that much over," I mumbled, suddenly feeling even more tired.

"Yeah, well. 'S why they don't have anything else booked for the stage."

"And when we get out of here, there'll be people waiting," I whined, just a little bit, thinking about how much longer I'd be on my feet. I liked our fans, for the most part, but I could live without that for the evening.

"Not tonight," Brian assured me, squeezing me again before letting go, then taking my hand and pulling me toward stage left. "The con's got security set up to keep that down, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." I nodded as I followed him, recalling the plan. "Meeting with fans tomorrow before the game."

"And after, if we want," he agreed. "The con's officially over at ten tomorrow night, but we've got dispensation to go 'til midnight to wrap things up."

I thought about that. "We're not getting out of bed until at least noon tomorrow," I decided.

"Fine with me," he agreed with a lecherous grin.

I blushed and stammered, "I-I-I didn't mean--"

"Pizza?"

"Huh?"

"When we get back to the room," he said as we reached the makeup stations, where our friends were already waiting for us. "Medium pineapple and bacon, medium chicken and mushroom?"

"Sure," I agreed, dropping into one of the makeup chairs and finally letting go of his hand.

Or was it him finally letting go of mine?

Aaron was still on his phone, and so was Maria, though she mouthed 'two minutes' at me when she saw me watching her. Sydney and Deidre were both checking out something on a tablet and Jonah . . . .

Jonah was glaring at me.

Sigh. Of course, he was.

Maria finished her call, and as if on cue, Aaron closed his only a hair's breadth after.

"All right, folks, post-game discussion time!

"First off, great work making use of the stage! I think that really helped keep our audience interested, and it was a lot of fun watching you act out -- more than usual," she added, which got the expected laughs. "Next time we do this, we need to figure out a better way to handle the dice, though. And all of you need to give the stagehands a big thanks when we get home for stepping up and rolling for you, especially you, Leigh."

"Umm," I started, but didn't know what else to say, so just nodded. I had gotten a bit too into the whole on-stage part of things, I guess.

"Don't worry about it, I think people loved it."

"They did," Sydney interjected, holding up the tablet so the rest of us could squint at the social feeds she had displayed. "Comments went wild the moment one of us stepped out from behind the table and started acting things out. There's questions about if this is our new full-time format, with a lot of interest in seeing more of it."

"Our studio isn't big enough."

"I don't have the energy."

"I need tacos. Oww, what?" Brian complained when I pinched him, though his eyes were twinkling when he did so.

Maria rolled her eyes. "I agree with Leigh, our studio isn't big enough, and we have too many other projects needing the space as-is. Maybe in another few years, if we keep growing, we can get a bigger space and consider it. I do think this is a good reason for us to do more conventions if we can book them, though."

"Agreed," Syd said, tapping at her tablet again. "We're getting almost three times the normal post-game engagement, thanks to a lot of our audience members live-posting about things or sharing their experiences after."

"Fan art server's getting inundated with new content too," Deidre added while looking at her phone, cracking a rare smile. "Some of it's even safe for work."

"Sure," Jonah huffed, kicking one of the makeup tables. "Get the girls out there dressed like sluts and of course people're gonna be hanging on every second of it."

"Hey!" Sydney objected, standing up so she could glare down at Jonah. "I'm not a girl, I'm a woman,bub!"

Jonah flinched but didn't step back. "You three hogged all the attention tonight, especially the princessover there, with her theatrics!"

"I was just--"

Jonah cut me off. "You were showing off for everyone. 'Oh, look at me, star of the show,' making the rest of us look bad."

"I didn't--"

"Not her fault you stayed behind the desk and acted like a stiff," Deidre said, giving Jonah the coldest glare I'd ever seen from her.

"Yeah," Aaron said, standing up himself. "I was nervous about the whole thing too, but it was all for fun, and it's our job to entertain the audience. That's all Leigh was doing."

"It's our job to play the game," Jonah argued, "and all of y'all got so caught up in the acting part, that was forgotten! I coulda been sneaking ahead, scouting things out. I coulda seen that ambush before it happened if y'all hadn't been hogging the play!"

"All right!" Maria yelled, busting out her play bell again and ringing it loudly enough to set my head ringing too. "Enough! Jonah!"

"I'm not--"

"You're right."

"--you can't... what?"

Maria took a deep breath, taking advantage of the temporary stunned quiet in the group. "You're right. You were trying to chip in during the gameplay leading up to the ambush, and I was focusing on the others instead of you because of the acting they were doing."

"I... yeah," Jonah agreed, sitting down. Sydney and Aaron sat down too, both looking a little chastised. "I'm a rogue, that's what I'm there for."

"Uh-huh." Maria nodded. "But with you at the table and the rest up and moving, it was difficult for me to keep switching my attention back and forth." She was quiet again for a moment, and to my surprise, nobody tried to say anything else. "I know that you don't like the acting bit."

"At all."

"Right," Maria agreed, just a hint of annoyance creeping back into her voice. "But... maybe tomorrow, just get up and move around with them. You don't have to act things out," she clarified when Jonah looked ready to object, "but having all of you in front of me might be easier to track than shifting my attention back and forth between the table and the floor."

Jonah opened his mouth, a sneer on his lips, then closed it again. "I'll try," he finally said, almost whispered, as he looked at the rest of us with a mixture of anger and, I think, a bit of embarrassment.

"Okay. Is there anything else we need to cover tonight, or are we good until the meet and greet tomorrow afternoon?"

"I need a smoke." Jonah stood up and walked out, as usual, but the rest of us stayed there a little bit longer.

There were a few minor things the others wanted to cover, but it was mostly pretty standard accounting for ammunition and items, and a desire to catch a little more rest before risking any run-ins with people on the way to our rooms.

Soon enough, things were truly wrapped up, and a good thing, too: I was almost falling asleep, only Brian nudging me with his shoulder keeping me awake. We stayed seated while the others filed out, Sydney giving me a thumbs-up on the way through the door and Maria winking at me.

We really had some stuff to figure out.

"Pizza in the room?" Brian asked again.

"Pizza in the room," I agreed, dragging myself up. "After I've changed," I added, looking down at the still milky-white dress I was wearing and contemplating the chewing-out I'd get for pizza stains.

"Deal," Brian said, holding the door open for me, and once again taking my hand as we left the makeup tables behind.

###

Notes:

Sorry for there being a couple days delay on this one folks. We've been a bit under the weather here around the house lately.

Anyway, part 30 is now up over on Patreon as well! There is a strong possibility that something people have been Wanting To See happens in that chapter.

*hugs*

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 30: Aftermath

"Holy cheezits is that better," I grumbled as I flopped on the foot of the bed, just carefully enough not to send pizza flying from the boxes in the middle. "If I never have to wear another ankle-length dress, it'll still be too soon." Especially one I had to be sewn into, and seam-ripped out of.

"What about your dress for tomorrow?" Brian asked, leaning back on his elbows and plucking a slice of pineapple-encrusted pizza from the box.

I groaned. "That's not a dress. That's . . . ."

"What?"

"I don't know," I finally conceded, thinking about the velvety red monstrosity. "But calling it a dress gives it too much credit."

It wasn't a lie. The damn thing had a neckline I was pretty sure would make Cassandra Peterson blush, and I still had no idea what shoes I was supposed to wear with it. Surprisingly, I found myself hoping for another pair of ballet slippers like I'd worn all day, though I had the sneaking and terrifying suspicion that heels were going to be involved.

I hated heels. They always made my instep itch.

I let out a heavy sigh and closed my eyes, just for a moment, thanking the heavens Aunt Cici had agreed to be in the common room at eleven to help me get ready.

"Don't fall asleep."

"Yeah, I know, pizza," I grumbled but pulled myself up again.

"And a Talk."

"A talk?"

"A Talk," Brian repeated, so I could hear the capitalization.

Great.

"Cute, by the way."

"Hmm? Oh, this old thing?" I rolled my eyes and grabbed a slice of pineapple pizza before it all disappeared. 'This old thing' was one of Maria's nightshirts, a baseball tee style one with a picture of one of the classic My Little Ponies on the front. "Maria objected to the boxers I was gonna change into. I think she's been planning to stick me in this for weeks: she already had it in the common room."

"Probably," Brian half-mumbled around a mouthful of food. "Still cute though."

"I guess," I admitted, while also more than a little annoyed that I was just as worried about getting pizza drippings on the nightshirt as I had been about the dress itself. "I look like a tweenage girl in it, though."

"Not with that, I'd think," Brian countered, patting my baby bump. "Well, hope."

"Fair."

Brian turned on the TV in the room, and we watched some silly cartoons for a bit while we ate.

It was... not uncomfortable.

Tense? Maybe.

Brian was right: we needed to talk. And I knew that no matter how things shook out, our relationship wasn't going to be the same after.

Who was I kidding? Our relationship had already changed: it had just taken us this long to realize it.

I looked over at Brian, eating his pizza and carefully Not Looking Back at me.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if maybe I was the only one who had been in the dark.

Not a comforting thought.

We sat through a couple of episodes of whatever it was we were watching. It was one of those "edgy" cartoons with cutesy animation right up until a swear word came out of the cartoon animal's mouth, and they did something obscene. I'd never cared for shows like that -- I preferred the actual cute cartoon animals and silly nonsense, the kind of stuff I'd laughed at as a kid. Still, it was a half-decent distraction while we ate our pizza and thought.

After two slices and half a bottle of soda, I surprised myself as much as Brian when I reached out and turned the TV off.

Maybe if we got The Talk out of the way, I could eat more pizza after, but somehow I doubted that.

I looked into Brian's eyes. He smiled back, then glanced away long enough to close the lids on the pizza boxes and move them to the little table he'd slid near the bed on his side.

....

"So," I started, then immediately stopped.

"Us," Brian said, still smiling.

"...Yeah." I fiddled with the hem of my nightshirt a bit more, wishing I could remember if My Little Pony ever had any episodes about awkward talks with roommates who might be your boyfriend, and you just didn't know it, but everyone else did.

It seemed unlikely.

"Want me to start?"

"No. I mean, yeah, but...." I trailed off again, then huffed in frustration with myself. "I just... did we?"

"Did we what?"

I blushed. "Did we... kiss?" I looked away, not wanting to see Brian's reaction to my question. "On the boat?"

"During the dance?"

"Y-yeah," I said again. "I was kinda smashed, and--"

"Kinda?"

"Hey!" I whined a bit, finally looking at Brian again. Thankfully he was still smiling. "I just don't remember, and then we woke up in... in the same bed."

"You don't remember at all?" He asked, his eyes twinkling.

"No? I mean, I remember falling down, and us dancing after, but not." I stopped again, feeling more than a bit like Violet Beauregard, swollen up and ready to pop.

"Well, we danced," Brian said, sliding closer to me. "Close, and slow."

"Mm-hmm," I agreed, barely a whisper.

"I drew you in," he said, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and doing so there at the foot of the bed.

"I...." I swallowed. "I think I remember that. A bit?"

"You looked up at me, with those big eyes of yours, holding on tightly...."

I felt my breath quicken as he pulled me closer.

"Then I leaned down, and...."

"And?" I squeaked, as he looked into my eyes just like he'd described, and eased closer.

"And...."

*peck*

I tried to cross my eyes as he leaned forward and kissed me in the middle of the forehead, softly and slowly, then eased back to smile at me again, looking amused at my obvious confusion.

"That's it?!"

"That's it," he agreed, chuckling a bit and squeezing my shoulder. "Well, mostly it. You passed out when I went to do it, and kinda headbutted me in the teeth a bit," he admitted.

"So we didn't...."

"Nope. I took you up to the room and was going to lay you in your bed, but you wrapped your arms around my neck and wouldn't let go."

"But my clothes?" I said. "Who took them off me?"

"You did that about two in the morning."

I groaned. Of course, I did.

I sank against Brian's shoulder and let out something halfway between a laugh and a wail of despair. "Oh gawd, I've been worried sick for two days about what I was thinking we might have done."

Brian laughed, squeezing me again. "Hey, never let it be said I besmirched a lady's good name, even when given the opportunity."

"I'm no lady," I grumped.

"Right," he agreed. "Princess, my bad."

"I'm not... ugh." I pulled away from him, more than half reluctantly. "You know what I meant."

"I do," Brian said, a bit more seriously, moving his arm down to rest his hand on my knee.

I looked down at his hand and thought.

"Everyone else thinks we're a couple," I said, still staring at his hand.

"Yep."

"Are we?"

I looked up into his eyes once again, as the silence piled on top of me and made it hard to breathe.

Brian looked back at me; his face serious. "Leigh."

"Are we," I asked again, swallowing a heavy gulp of air.

Brian gulped, seeming to have just as much trouble with the air as I was. "I... I think." He stopped again.

"You think?"

"I think I should kiss you," he finally said, forcing the words out quickly, nervously. "Can I kiss you?" He asked, his hand now moving to my cheek, caressing it.

"I...." I reached up and placed my hand over his, still looking him in the eyes but unable to say anything more.

It must have been enough of an answer because he leaned forward once again. Only this time, his eyes never left mine as our faces grew closer, only losing contact when I closed my own... and felt his lips press into mine in a kiss without question.

A kiss without concern for boyfriend or girlfriend, man or woman, or any of the other complications we both knew would, could, come.

Our first?

It certainly felt like it.

###

Notes:

We're in the 30s!

The story has maybe 5 more chapters after this one, including the chapter that is up on Patreon RIGHT NOW!

Y'all finally got yer kiss. You happy? I hope so!

Comments and kudos appreciated. I'll try to respond as much as I can.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 31: Pillow Talk

Was I dreaming?

It had to be a dream, I decided, because we were on a beach, watching the sunset, and I didn't think Lake Travis was big enough to lose the horizon in the water and clouds.

It also had to be a dream because, for whatever reason, I was wearing a bikini.

Even in a dream, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that. My whole life, I'd been called a girl, told I looked like one, acted like one, even sounded like one. Despite all that, until the past week, I'd never crossdressed or anything outside of cosplay... and, okay, a few one-off times with Maria. Now even my dreams were getting in on it.

At least the sunset was nice, and the waves crashing on the beach.

The company wasn't bad, either.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" Brian asked me, leaning back on his elbows and basking in the warm light. He was one of those guys who always had just a touch of a tan, and it glowed in the afternoon sun. Unlike me, he was wearing a very practical pair of grey-and-white trunks.

"I shouldn't be in a bikini," I whined, picking at the silly suit with the strings tied on my hips and my chest barely covered by the triangles of material that passed for a top. At least it had the good sense to be a nice plum purple and not something godawful like pink.

"Why not?" Brian smiled and reached out to untie one of the bows holding my bottoms on.

I batted his hand away and scowled. "Because I'm not a girl."

"You sure about that?"

I glared at him. "This is my dream. Shouldn't you be trying to seduce me or something?"

"Don't work when you know it's a dream," he said, in the same kind of deadpan-with-smirk way his waking-world counterpart would. "And is that really what you want?"

I thought about that for a moment. "I mean... it might be nice? It's been a while since...." I trailed off. "This is stupid."

"Well, it's your dream," he said, standing up and plucking a surfboard from the sand next to him.

I stood up too and stepped forward, once again by his side.

"Even in my dreams, you're a butt."

"Yep!" He agreed. "Also, honk."

"Honk?"

Then he reached over and squeezed my right tit.

#

"Wha?!"

I jerked awake, dislodging the very real hand that had just groped me but not the arm it was attached to. I only panicked for a moment before remembering the night before.

Conversation.

Pizza.

Kissing.

I took a deep breath and felt my heart rate slow as I sank back into the mattress, cuddling up to the shape behind me in the bed -- not a bolster, but Brian's chest, gently rising and falling as he breathed.

He snuffled a bit as I snuggled in, raising the hand that had groped me to move my hair out of his face, but soon enough, the arm returned to its place around me, the hand this time settling into a gentle pat on the faux baby bump I still wore.

"G'sleep," he mumbled, still muffled by my hair despite having moved it.

"I am," I assured him, getting another pat on my baby bump in response.

A quick glance at the alarm clock on my side of the bed showed me the time was barely after six a.m. Brian was right: I needed to go back to sleep.

Not that I could.

With my eyes closed tight and the sound and rhythm of Brian's steady breathing filling me with a sense of calm, I lay there and thought.

I thought about the upcoming game and felt the fluttering in my belly as I wondered how the night's performance would go.

I thought about the robe, dress, whatever it was I would be wearing, and felt a fluttering of an entirely different sort at the idea of being so exposed.

I thought about kissing.

Specifically, I thought about kissing Brian.

The last guy I could remember kissing was in our sophomore year of college. I'd been experimenting at the time, and I'd gone on a couple dates with him. I let him kiss me, and it was nice, but he was adamant that the kiss lead to something more, and I wasn't ready for that. It was our last date.

I'd kissed a couple of girls since, not counting Maria, and there was the time Sydney got drunk at a party and tried to make out with me. Those had all been fun, but there had been something missing in it.

Something exciting that I needed from it and wasn't getting.

Something I'd found, immediately, when Brian kissed me. His lips warm, his hands gentle, the tilt of my head as....

I sighed and snuggled back just a little more, getting another grumble from Brian and a poke from something lower down.

The kissing had been wonderful. The first one, the second one, the fifth... but kissing was all we had done. Brian's hands had not lingered north of the band of my bra, and my hands had stayed safely above his waist.

The kissing had been enough, but....

I thought about the last time I'd felt that same prodding and blushed.

If I hadn't been drunk and passed out on Thursday night... if we had talked about all of this before the trip... would we have?

The bolster was gone, but there was still one important question we never answered the night before:

I was pretty sure that Brian was, officially, my partner -- my boyfriend -- now. Provisionally at the very least.

But what did he consider me?

Seemingly sensing my unease, Brian squeezed me again and mumbled something that might have been "pancakes."

The more I thought about it, the more the answer seemed clear to me, if no less confusing despite that clarity. For all my arguing I wasn't a girl, for all Brian's acceptance of me for being me, I couldn't pretend like there was anything like a boy-boy dynamic between us.

Brian might try to soft-pedal it, but if I couldn't even convince myself that we were boyfriend and boyfriend, I was pretty sure he wasn't convinced either.

Sigh.

I thought about my commitment I'd made only -- was it really only two days before? -- to let what was fun be fun, and not over-think it all. At the time, I'd known -- if only subconsciously -- that would include trying not to fight what was going on between me and Brian, trying to relax and see where things went.

I hadn't thought things would all change so quickly, though.

I guess if anything, that was just proof they hadn't changed as much as I thought, I just wasn't trying to ignore them anymore?

Somehow that wasn't as comforting as I'd hoped it would be.

Despite my confusion, I didn't pull away from Brian.

I didn't want to.

If we both wanted to be together, then did the labels really matter? I knew they would to some folks, even some of our own friends, though I didn't think many of them would make a big deal about it even if they disagreed with us.

Should we be together, and risk it making it hard to work together?

That was just me being paranoid, and I knew it. I couldn't imagine a situation where, even if we broke up -- once again presuming we were a "thing" now -- that I would stop being at least friends with Brian. We went back too far, and I knew him too well: if that were going to happen, it already would have, and I'd seen him with enough girlfriends to know he wasn't likely to pull any Asshole Dominant stuff.

Girlfriends.

Girlfriend?

I thought about it some more and fought the urge to shake my head again. I knew that in the eyes of most folks, that was what I was.

Hell, in the eyes of most folks, I'd been that for a long time.

But it still didn't feel like it fit to me. Didn't feel cromulent.

"Mrvf vm."

"Hmm?" I asked, turning my head to once again get my hair out of Brian's face.

"Luff yoo."

I felt a pang in my heart, like the tiniest guitar string being plucked.

"I... I love you too."

"Gud. Then go sleep. Yer think'n's wakin' me up."

"Sorry," I half-apologized, half-chuckled, once again snuggling myself in. "I'll try to think more quietly at least."

"Think later. Sleep," he said, kissing the back of my head.

"Alright," I agreed, and tried to comply.

Lover?

I thought about the word and rolled it over in my head a couple of times.

I wasn't Brian's boyfriend, I didn't think. Not really. And girlfriend didn't seem right either. Too much to unpack there, both in terms of who others saw me as and how the last couple of weeks had made me start to reconsider myself.

Too many distractions, not enough certainties. Too many questions, not enough epiphanies.

But lover?

Lover, I think, I could handle.

With that settled, I smiled and felt myself begin to drift off again, the feeling of Brian's breath on my neck reminding me of sand, and beachside breezes, and lying in the sun together.

###

Sorry for the delay folks. We're caught up to me in terms of posting, but I'm hoping the next (and last!) three chapters won't be delayed.

If you want to read chapter 32, it's up in the usual place. It's free to read, but if you want to drop a donation to the site coffers, it would be appreciated.

Comments and kudos welcome!

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 32: Bwahaha!

"Bwahahaha!"

The fire giantess slapped her knee as she laughed, the gust of wind produced by the impact upsetting the tripod, suspending our kettle over the campfire. Adrian rushed to set it back up while our unexpected guest continued to cackle in glee.

"Yae think a little gaggle o' bairns like ye'self can jus' wend yer way up the canyon, in the gates, and 'ave a wee chat wit tha Chief?" She chuckled some more. "Whoa me, ah ain't heard a line tha' rich in ages."

"Well, what do you propose we do then?" I huffed, more than a bit annoyed that our "guest" had managed to eat over a week's worth of our rations in one sitting and drank an entire barrel of Sunny's ale.

"Taern back," the fire giantess said, leaning back against the cliff wall. "An' ferget yae ever came this way."

"We can't do that," Adrian said, tossing a few more bits of wood on the fire. "We promised the people of the town we would open the pass, and we shall do so."

"Ye'll get yerselves dead."

I shuddered a bit at the cold certainty in her voice. I'd been dead before: I didn't want to experience it again.

"We just want to talk to him," Burg said.

"Yeah. I'll only slice off some unnecessary bits."

"Sunny!"

"...Just a toe?"

Burg rolled his eyes.

"Ye'll never make it past the gate gairds, an' the wall defenses," Mato -- our giantess companion -- said, picking her teeth with a short sword she'd drawn from one of her pockets.

"Are there no other ways in?" John asked, drawing one of his daggers back and forth across a whetstone. I knew that before we headed out in the morning, the shiny edge would be coated in ash to disguise its glint. "Old trade passages, or waterways?"

"Nae that I can recall," Mato said, then stopped picking her teeth and looked off into the distance. "Well, wai' a minit."

"What?" John asked, as we all perked up.

#

"Roll me a Charm check."

"Fuck," Jonah said, stepping back to the table and grabbing his dice. Unsurprisingly, charm was not one of his character's strong suits.

"Can I assist him?" I asked.

Maria thought for a moment. "How would Lunea go about helping him with the check?"

"Hmmm. I walk over behind John, place a hand on his shoulder, and I cast--"

"--I don't think I need--"

"--Boon of Charm."

I smiled. Boon of Charm would give him a second roll if his first one went badly on the Charm check.

"I resist," Jonah said, giving me an annoyed look.

Maria rolled her eyes. "You resist a buff?"

"I don't want it. I can--"

"Fine. Roll me a Mental Resist check."

"Whatever, it-- fuck!"

"You get the charm buff anyway!" Maria said, grinning. "Now roll me that charm check."

Jonah grumbled but grabbed a second twenty-sided die and rolled both together. The first die -- his normal go-to one -- rolled a one, a critical failure that could have meant Bad Things for our party: fire giants weren't known for taking slights with any kind of aplomb.

The second die rolled a fourteen.

"Fourteen, plus?"

"One," Jonah admitted, glaring at me again.

"That just passes," Maria said.

The crowd cheered, and Aaron walked over and slapped me on the shoulder.

#

We gathered close around the patch of earth, crowding in to see the details in the flickers of firelight that could make it between our bodies.

"So that's the plan then," John said. "We go in through the water inlet. Lunea casts Bubble Head on everyone, and that should give us up to half an hour before we have to re-surface."

I nodded but couldn't shake my nervousness. "Just remember, if any of you have to surface before we're inside, the Bubble Head spell on you will pop. Once it's on us, we're under there until we're out."

Everyone assured me they understood, which helped me feel a little bit better. I'd never had to use my Bubble Head spell for anything more than a bit of fun swimming in the lake back home; I hoped it would prove reliable enough for such a high-stakes situation.

"'Magine tha', a buncha lil' bairns figurin' out a ways inta the keep!" Our fire giant compatriot crowed, looking surprised. "I s'pose they'll have ta figger out how ta fix this after yer done!"

"Yeah, well. With any luck we'll be leaving by the front gate, assuming our full charm offensive can keep us off the end of the king's spear."

"That it might, that it might," Mato agreed, tapping the side of her nose. "He respects ingenuity an' creativity, though I s'pect the vizier may not."

'Yeah, well, we'll burn that bridge when we come to it," Burg said.

"We're fire giants. Ye'll burn a lot earlier'n that," Mato reminded him, though she was still grinning when she did.

#

I waited for the curtain to close before I let my shoulders slump, a small whine escaping as I slid down to the floor, careful as possible to avoid messing up my gown while also trying not to put too much on display.

The latter was easier said than done.

My fears about the gown had been well-founded, and only compounded when I'd found out that the "special" feature Aunt Cici had brought along for me was a silicone rubber baby bump that matched my own skin almost to a T. This one covered my chest as well, and she'd blended it at my neck with some makeup.

On the plus side, the way it was designed meant no bra necessary.

On the downside, it was designed that way because, with the gown, I couldn't wear one anyway.

Glancing down, I adjusted the neckline again to try and cover up a bit more skin, but as had been the case throughout the rest of the day, my efforts were stymied by the double-sided tape Aunt Cici had used to prevent wardrobe malfunctions in the first place.

"Good thing the curtain's closed, or some of the guys in the audience might be getting Ideas," Brian said, dropping his weapons and easing down onto the floor next to me.

I blushed and let go of the material. "Yeah, well. They probably had ideas anyway."

"I know I do," Brian said, waggling his eyebrows and bumping me with his shoulder, making me blush even more. "So, can I kiss you in front of everyone, or?"

"I... I guess so," I admitted, feeling a tingle run through me as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close.

"Or."

"Or?" I asked, our faces only an inch or so apart.

"Would you rather kiss me?" He asked, looking deep into my eyes. I could tell from the crinkle at the corners of his own that he was grinning, probably in a smarmy way too.

What kind of question was that anyway?

I leaned forward and closed the distance between us, hoping that by kissing him I could knock the smarm off his face.

Not that I could tell if it worked.

Not that I really cared, either, as I lost myself in the kiss.

It felt like far too early when we pulled apart, but judging by my own breathing -- and the flush on Brian's face -- I didn't think we could have gone much further before one of us passed out.

Then the clapping started.

"At last!" Sydney crowed, dancing about and whooping. "I knew y'all were together!"

I almost said something, but once again I felt Brian squeeze me gently. I turned to look at him again, and he stole one more quick kiss.

With a sigh I gave up and leaned against his shoulder.

"So, when's the real baby due?"

"Syd!"

"What? You can't tell me the two of you haven't--"

"SYD!"

Sydney winced as Maria's voice cut through her whining. "Eep! Ah, yeah, not my business, sorry."

I could feel Brian chuckling, but kept my own lips in a tight grimace, despite my own desire to laugh.

The grimace turned more real when I felt someone bump into us from behind before stumbling around in front of us, cursing.

"You two makin' out on stage now?" Jonah asked, his voice slightly slurred as it had been all night. "Fuckin'--"

Sydney stepped up and grabbed him by the shoulder, and Jonah groaned in pain.

"Whatever you were about to say? Don't."

"Agh! Fuckin' alright!" He said, trying unsuccessfully to shrug her hand off before ducking and pulling loose. "But don't blame me when we all get killed 'cause the bitch...." Jonah trailed off on his own, waving his hands. "Whatever," he finally finished, then stumbled off.

We all frowned in the direction he left.

"Y'know, we're gonna have to--"

"I know," I agreed, tucking myself more firmly into Brian. "But not tonight. Not at the con." I curled up my nose, thinking about the smell that had wafted off him when he'd bumped into us. "He's lit, but he isn't drunk. And I don't think the audience noticed anything wrong."

"Nothing more than usual," Adrian agreed, dropping down on the floor across from me and Brian and rolling water bottles our way. He gave our embrace a moment of attention, then just smiled and nodded. "But Syd's right. We have to figure something out."

"Leigh's right too, though," Brian said, squeezing me again. "Not at the convention. Not before we get home. Too much that can go wrong."

Adrian and Syd both nodded.

"Besides that, it needs to be the whole group, not just us."

"Kick 'im," Deidre said, walking by us with one of the other crew. "Bastard stepped on the trail of my robe and ripped it."

I shook my head. "Come on guys. Not right now." I shifted uncomfortably, then looked up at Brian. "Maybe this was a bad idea."

Sydney laughed. "What, you two hooking up? About time if you ask me."

"Yeah, but what if Jonah's right and--"

"He isn't," Adrian assured us, standing back up. "I don't see you two changing anything about how you play just because you're out now."

"Out?" I asked, confused.

Syd laughed again, standing up as well. "Oh, come off it, Leigh. You and Brian have been a thing for years. Now you even have the rings to make it official."

"They're not actually--"

I flinched as a loud beep echoed across the stage.

"Break's over," Syd sighed, reaching down to help me up while Adrian offered the same to Brian. "But don't worry, I'll tell you everything about how obvious you've been after the game."

"Everything?" I questioned her.

"Obvious?" Brian chipped in, giving me a look that was one part amused, one part curious.

I would have asked more questions, but there was another beep over the loudspeaker, followed by one of the staff warning us on our earpieces that our mics would go live in less than a minute.

Questions would have to wait: it was time for more game.

###

NOTES:

Sorry it took me so long to respond to folks last time.

As always, chapter 33 is available right now over on the Patreon! It features more fire giants! It's also free to read for anyone who wants to check it out.

Comments and kudos appreciated.

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 33: Man Down

We'd screwed up.

The infiltration had gone fine. With John leading, we'd snuck our way through the guards at the perimeter surrounding the keep, following the waterways up to the portcullis that served as a drain for the keep's water systems.

If you ever have a chance to check out the drain-off from a fire giant privy, word of advice: don't.

Once we had reached the wall, it was my turn to cast my Bubble Head spell on each member of the party as we entered the disgusting water. With that done, we'd slipped through the more than amply-spaced iron bars beneath the water line and into the keep, following the large semi-underwater pipe until we came across what seemed like a good, out-of-the-way location to enter the keep proper.

The goal was simple: we would get in, skulk around until we could get into the chieftain's chamber, and talk to him. According to Mato, getting in was the hard part, and the chieftain was at least as likely to talk to us as have us killed on the spot since he liked a good show of initiative.

If only we'd made it that far.

It was Sunny's fault. At least, sort of. Being vain for a dwarf, she had insisted on cleaning up before we moved from the privy we'd snuck in through into the rest of the keep. While we debated the point, the truth was that we all wanted to be rid of at least the worst of the waste, so it wasn't hard for her to convince us to take a few moments to do so.

The fire giant who walked in while we were half out of our gear was as surprised as we were.

Her buddy who had accompanied her wasn't.

#

"Lunea, roll me a reflex check."

I stared at my dice and tried not to cry. We were on stage in front of thousands, and I was wearing makeup: if I cried now, I'd never live it down.

Our movement room in front of the table had been cut down by a large model of the keep that had been brought out and placed in the center, cameras pointed down at it from above, showcasing the playfield on rolling screens at the back of the stage for the audience to see more clearly.

It was a fantastic model. Maria had cleared the funds to commission it as soon as we'd gotten the gig for the convention, and it was worth the money, with dry ice features billowing smoke around glowing lava-filled pools and stackable layers of playfield for our miniatures to explore.

Right now, things were configured to show only the southwest portion of the map, the rest hidden by fog-of-war panels, so we couldn't see things that were outside our characters' experience.

What it showed wasn't good for us.

The fire giants who caught us hadn't reacted well to doing so, and we had failed a few key checks to turn that around. Because of that, we'd been occupied by the one giantess while the other ran off and sounded the alarms, alerting the entire keep to our presence.

That had been an hour ago in real-time.

We fought the first fire giantess and handled her without too much trouble, but we knew that our goals of stealth and hopeful diplomacy were out the window. It was a battle now, and a long one, enough so that as soon as she'd had to bust out the map, Maria had sent a message to the con runners to let them know we'd be running over our time.

Some days the dice bless you. They make you look like an absolute badass, popping off spells left and right and being a big damn hero.

Some days you're cursed no matter what you do.

"Lunea?" Maria asked me, prompting me for the results of my roll. The numbers from the dice were on the screens behind her, but I needed to add my bonuses and give her the total.

"Eight."

#

I screamed as the wall to my right exploded, the spell I was preparing fizzling as I was knocked on my ass.

The fire giant roared as he lifted his mace and brought it down.

I tried to crawl away, but I was too slow, too stunned. There was a sickening metallic thud as the mace smashed into my leg.

No. Not into my leg. Through it.

I wanted to scream again, but the pain was too immense, too much to bear.

My vision blurred, and the world faded away.

#

The sound of the audience erupting in surprised and horrified outrage was almost too much for me as I watched Maria walk around the table, grimace, and tip the little figure representing me over.

"Lunea is down," she said, her voice calm but with an edge to it that betrayed her own nervousness. "Sunny, what do you do?"

"Shit!" Sidney cried, her eyes darting between my miniature and where hers stood, face to face with a fire giant opponent of her own. "Umm, ahh, do I see what happened to Lunea? Or hear it?"

"Roll and see."

"Fffff, three." Sunny, not the most aware of our characters at the best of times, had not been blessed by the dice gods either.

"Sunny is too preoccupied with her own situation to notice."

I gulped. I wasn't dead yet, but I was dying. Each time my turn came around, I would have a chance to stabilize, but if an enemy hit me again while I was down, then that was it. My only real hopes were for one of our party members to reach me before then and heal me, with a potion or a spell.

Sydney gave me an apologetic glance. "I guess I use my Stalwart Defense power, then hit the giant in front of me with my axe." She rolled her dice again and perked up a bit. "Does a twenty-two hit?"

"Yes."

"For... nineteen damage. Oh, can I do a Crippling Strike?"

"Sure."

"Eighteen?"

"The fire giant falls to one knee, leaning on its mace for support."

"Yes!!!" Sydney crowed, clapping her hands. "Can I see if I notice Lunea is down again?"

"Not until your next turn," Maria said, shaking her head. "Do you want to move?"

"I can't while using Stalwart Defense," Sydney grumped, frowning. "Sorry Luney!"

I did my best to smile, though I'm sure it came across as more of a grimace. "It's fine. That's how the game works, right?"

"Adrian, what are you doing?"

Aaron frowned, too, looking the board over closely. "Do I notice?" He asked, rolling his dice before Maria could answer and shaking his head. "I move over behind the giant Sunny just brought to its knees and use Holy Strike on it."

"That will take you through the zone for the giant fighting Burg," Maria pointed out.

"Yeah, but if we take that giant out, we can hold that doorway, and I don't know that the wall is broken in yet."

"Okay," Maria agreed, rolling some dice as Aaron moved his mini into position. "The giant swings at you as you pass, but you deftly dodge its strike. The giant you're circling would normally get a chance to attack because of the tight area, but because of its downed state, it doesn't. Make your attack."

"Twenty-eight," Aaron said, picking up his damage dice and rolling them. "For... dang. Nine regular damage, and five holy."

"The giant bellows in pain as you rip a wide gash in the armor across its back, sending bits of stone-like flesh and blistering hot blood spraying in the wake of your sword."

"Still alive?"

"Barely," Maria confirmed, shifting her attention back to the board. "As your group is dealing with the threats at hand...." She gulped, rolled some dice, then nodded to herself. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Another wall caves in, and another giant steps through."

"Where does it-- oh no."

Maria gave me a pained look. "The new giant approaches where Lunea lies and raises its mace to finish her off." She rolled her dice again. "It hits."

Brian rapped on the table, getting Maria's attention. "Can I use a reaction to get over there and help her?"

"You used your reaction earlier to ward off a stunning strike," Maria reminded him. "Do you have any fate points?" Fate points would let him take an action outside his turn if he had any.

"No."

"Do you?" She asked me as well.

"Of course not," I said, more snippily than I'd intended to. If I'd had any, I would have already used them to stabilize.

Someone else rapped on the table. "I have a fate point."

I wasn't the only one to turn and look at Jonah in surprise.

The game had not been going well for any of us, and that included Jonah's character, John. He'd lost over half his hit points in the encounter with the first fire giant and was hanging on by a thread. Thieves weren't known for their resilience, but he'd been holding his own, using his abilities to deal bonus damage where he could.

He wasn't....

"You don't have any defensive abilities, do you?" Maria asked him.

"No," he said, acidly. "But I can take the hit, so breeder bitch doesn't die."

"Why?" I found myself asking without intending to.

Jonah barked a humorless laugh. "Fuck if I know. But much as your character sucks, John can't let a baby get killed if he can stop it."

There was silence on the stage and in the audience.

Finally, Maria shook her head and said, "All right then. Do you use your point to reach her and take the hit?"

"Fuck it. Yeah."

"All right then. I need to re-roll the attack, and... shit."

"What do you-- aww fuck."

Maria rolled some more dice, her expression souring even more as she looked up at the camera showing her dice. There would be no fudging of the rolls, not with the cameras showing them for everyone to see.

"Critical hit, double damage, maxxed. How many hit points did John have left?"

"Four."

I looked at Deidre, who was studying her character sheet with a look of quiet dread. Did she have any reviving magic prepared? When she noticed me, she looked back and shook her head, the question not needing to be asked aloud.

Maria sighed. "As the mace comes down toward Lunea's head, John dives from the shadows, shielding her body. With a sickening crunch, the mace shatters his chest. Jonah, please hand me your character sheet."

The crowd remained silent as Jonah pulled off his mic. Rather than handing his sheet to Maria he gathered his sheet and his dice, and without a word to anyone else -- without even a snide glance -- he walked off the stage.

###

NOTES:

While this isn't the next-to-last CHAPTER, this IS the next to last post of Wednesday Knights coming to BC.

No, I'm not leaving a chapter off BC. Rather, chapters 34 and 35 are going to be posted as one piece (just like they're being posted right now over on the Patreon,) because they are both rather short, and combined close up most of the plotlines of the story.

Again, thanks to everyone who's kept up reading with me.

I'd love to see comments and kudos. I know I didn't get around to responding to them on the last chapter, but to be fair, I DID end up writing two more chapters in the intervening time, so hopefully I can be forgiven for that :)

A group of friends streams their gaming on Wednesday nights. But not all the action is on the dining room table.

-==-

Chapter 34: Closing Remarks

The roar of the crowd was only slightly muffled by the curtains as they drew closed.

I'd survived.

I was down a leg for the moment, but in a fantasy world that could be fixed.

We were battered, and at the end of our ropes, but we had gotten out. Our goal wasn't completed, but we would live to try another day, and really, after how things had gone, that was all we could ask.

At least, most of us had survived.

Once again I found myself sinking to the floor, the dress and propriety being damned as the energy drained out of me. My makeup I had been so worried about earlier in the session was, I was sure, ruined by the sweat pouring off me, as much from stress as from the hot lights of the stage.

Dahlia had used her last prepared healing spell to get Lunea back up, and I'd taken a cue from the fire giants themselves, and used my own final prepared spell to blast open one of the walls of the fortress. We had fled, Burg carrying Lunea and Adrian carrying John's body. Peppered by arrows and stones, our last resources being chipped away, we'd somehow managed to lose the fire giants in a nearby forest thanks to Burg's druidic powers.

And that was where we were, and would be in another week and a half when we played again.

The crowd, of course, had loved it. There were people shouting in concern, people screaming in support, and almost too much noise to bear as we'd concentrated on getting away without taking more casualties. Sunny had pulled her phone out even before the curtain had closed completely, and I was sure she was eagerly studying viewer engagement metrics and all of that stuff.

All I wanted to do was let my heart calm down, and get a good hug.

"Hey."

"Hey," I said back, taking Brian's offered hand and letting him pull me back to my feet. Almost immediately I was in that hug I'd needed so much, the relief and comfort almost too much for me to bear as I fought to not give into the tears.

Not here. Not yet.

When we finally let each other go Maria and the rest of the gang were standing nearby, waiting for us. The moment I was free Maria stepped forward and gave me a hug of her own, followed by Sunny, then Deidre, and lastly Aaron.

"You feel up to an after game review?" Maria asked me, sounding nervous and as tired as I felt.

"I don't... no. I mean, yeah," I grumbled. "But can we do it somewhere else? I don't...."

"Yeah," Sunny chipped in. "I kinda wanna get away from, ah, this. And I could use something to eat."

We started walking off the stage, discussing where we could go for food and whether to change first or not, when we all stopped silent in our tracks as soon as we'd stepped backstage.

There, leaning against a trunk, was Jonah, vaping and staring off into space.

He stood up and started walking over to us, and I felt my entire body tighten like a spring. I didn't want to be yelled at. I didn't want the screaming, and the arguing, and--

"That's it then."

What?

I looked at Jonah's face.

There was no sneer. No anger. No disgust.

There was only exhaustion.

"Jonah--" I started, but he waved me off.

"Look, Leigh. I... I'm an asshole," he said, taking another puff of his vape and looking away. "I know I'm an asshole. All o' y'all take the game so casual most of the time, and it pisses me off, and... sigh." He rolled his shoulders, and looked right at me again. "Just... if you'd fucked something up tonight, then whatever. But ya didn't. Ya got fucked." He gave my faux baby bump a look when he said that, and almost grinned.

Almost.

Stepping back, he eyed the rest of the group. "Y'all've been thinking about dumping me from the group," he said, giving everyone a moment to respond. When nobody did, he continued. "I get it. Camera crew's got the tech locked down, I'm not needed for that. I'm not popular with the viewers, and I don't fit with the group any more. Never really did."

I tried to say something again, but this time it was Brian who stopped me, gently squeezing my shoulder.

Instead, it was Aaron who stepped up. "I've got your character's body. We can get him revived at a temple if--"

"Nope," Jonah said, cutting him off. "No fuckin' way. Not... I can't."

I glanced up at Brian, who shook his head, but I stepped away from him anyway. "Jonah...."

To my surprise, Jonah didn't try to cut me off.

I forced my shoulders to relax, and surprised myself by actually laughing a little. "You have been an asshole, you know that?" I was relieved when he chuckled and took another hit of his vape. "And yeah, we've been talking about things. But you don't have to leave the group. We don't want you out."

Jonah looked up at me again, a touch of surprise in his eyes, then over at the others. The surprise faded. "Y'know? I actually think you believe that," he said, sounding far more tired than I felt. "Maria?"

"Yeah?" Maria said, in almost a whisper.

Jonah stepped forward and extended his hand, his crumpled character sheet looking as ragged as the rest of us. "Here's John's sheet. Don't revive him, but I dunno. Y'all can put him up for folks to have or whatever."

"O-okay."

Jonah turned around, and was starting to walk away, but I couldn't let that happen.

"Jonah!" I called out, stepping toward him. I was a little surprised when he turned around to face me, but I didn't let that stop me.

He was stiff as a board when I reached out to hug him, but didn't try to pull away. I kept it short, but we had been friendly -- no, friends -- for too long to part like this.

"When we start planning the next campaign I'll give you a call, okay?"

"I don't think--" he started, but stopped, looked over my shoulder, then slowly nodded. "I... yeah, okay."

"Okay," I agreed, stepping back from him.

He gave the smallest, just the tiniest, of smiles, before rolling his eyes, hitting his vape again, and walking away from us for one last time.

We all stood there, watching him, until he'd disappeared around the corner.

I let out a tense breath as I felt Brian's arms wrap around my shoulders from behind.

Maria stepped next to me. "Y'know," she said quietly. "Things change. People change." She looked down at the character sheet in her hand. "When we get to town, you're reviving John," she said, a certainty, not a suggestion. "He can go away for a while, maybe for the rest of the campaign. But if Jonah wants to come back...."

I nodded.

If Jonah wanted to come back... his place would be there.

###

Chapter 35: Post Partum

I picked at my breakfast plate with my fork, shuffling things around a bit but not really interested in eating any of it.

My shoulders were slumped, and I knew that my eyes betrayed how tired I felt, or would have if not for the makeup Maria had insisted I put on before leaving the room that morning, among other things.

I laid my hand that wasn't busy Not Eating across my belly, taking note of the one big thing they hadn't had me put back on, and feeling weirdly uncomfortable not having it.

I jumped a little when another fork struck at my plate, spearing a piece of cantaloupe.

"Hey!"

"What?" Brian asked, only slightly muffled by the stolen fruit. "You weren't actually eating any of it."

"Yeah, but...." I trailed off, too tired to even work up a good head of steam about the theft.

It had been after three AM before we'd gotten back to our rooms. That wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that even with a late checkout already approved, we had to be out of our rooms by one in the afternoon, and we had a lot -- a lot -- of stuff that needed packing.

We'd been too tired on getting back to the room to do more than change out of our costumes and kiss a bit before zonking out, and there was a part of me that was disappointed by that. If the way we had woken up that morning was any indication, there was an even bigger part of Brian that was.

I smiled, just a little, at my private joke. Privates joke, I couldn't help thinking, and that made me smile even more.

"Pervert," Brian said, stealing a piece of melon off my plate that time.

"I'm not-- stop reading my mind!"

"No can do. Been roomies for like eight years: it's a permanent thing now," he said, this time taking a grape.

I rolled my eyes and decided that if I was going to get a chance to eat anything, I should get started. With one last glare at Brian, I nabbed a chunk of pineapple off my plate and stuck it in my mouth, resisting the urge to stick my tongue out at him when I did.

"Good. I'm gonna go grab some more," he said happily. "Back in a sec."

I watched him walk off, chewing my pineapple and surprising myself with the realization I already wanted more. Maria caught my gaze and waved from her table but didn't try to come over: she was in the middle of her third or fourth phone call since we'd gotten up with the ATG folks, who were trying to convince her to agree to us doing another con here in a month or two.

Normally arranging that kind of thing would be my job, but Maria had told me the night before that I wasn't allowed to think about work for at least two days, until the team meetup on Wednesday we were doing in place of a game this week.

Who was I to argue with that? Especially after she threatened to make me wear a skirt to the next game session if I tried.

What I'm wearing NOW is bad enough, I thought as I nabbed another chunk of something, maybe mango, off my plate and munched on it.

I had never agreed to wear women's clothes home, but apparently, I was, courtesy of a first-thing-in-the-morning ambush by Maria, Sydney, Deidre, and Aunt Cici. At least I'd won the fight over a skirt, but I was still wearing a pair of girly-looking capris and a flowery lightweight tank with some frou-frou around the neck.

I hadn't fought them on the sports bra, though, and was already planning on ordering some more of them when I got home.

I shivered just a little bit. The tank was light, as were the capris, and the AC in the hotel was still set on Nuclear Winter despite the fact that we were some of the last people leaving.

Yet another reason to be happy for the sports bra, I guess, I mentally grumbled, wondering how I'd gone for years without thinking about my chest, only to now be acutely aware of it almost constantly.

Thankfully Brian got back to the table then, another plate piled high with fresh(ish) fruit and pastries from the remnants of the hotel's continental breakfast table.

"We eating all of this?" I asked him, eyeing the plate dubiously.

He grinned and kissed me on the tip of the nose. "Most of it. Calorie load before the drive home."

"Mmf."

"Although...."

I put down the strawberry I'd been picking up and gave Brian a wary look. "Brian...."

"Hey!" He raised his hands defensively, his eyes gleaming in mischief. "I'm just sayin', it's about a six-hour drive from here home, and we don't have anywhere to be until Wednesday, right?

"Right?" he prompted again when I didn't immediately answer.

"Yeah," I agreed, curious where he was going with things.

His grin grew wider. "Well, we don't have any company materials in the rental car, we've got the cars 'til Wednesday too. I'm thinkin' we make a detour or two on the way home."

"That... could be fun," I said, taking a cautious bite of my strawberry. "Where were you thinking?"

Brian actually looked a bit embarrassed. "Well, your folks are living in--"

"Woodcock," I reminded him.

He nodded. "And my folks still have the old family place outside Bayonet."

"What are you getting at, Venable?" I asked him, giving him the side-eye and feeling a shiver pass through me that had nothing to do with the cold air.

"Well." He grinned. "Now that we're, y'know, officially a Thing. Maybe we should tell our parents?"

!

"Leigh?! Leigh, are you okay?!"

I coughed, keeping my breakfast down, but just barely. "Ack! Ah, yeah, ah. Ahem. You've met my parents!" I croaked. "I've met yours!"

"Well, yeah," Brian said. "But that was as friends. Not as, y'know... ummm."

I sighed. We still hadn't figured out exactly what our relationship was. "Partners?"

"Lovers?" He suggested, quirking an eyebrow and grinning smarmily.

"Not yet," I teased back, feeling a little tingle rush through me at the 'yet' part of that statement. Brian seemed to notice it too, the smarm in his grin increasing.

"Partners works," Brian agreed, sliding over and reaching under the table to take my hand that was still resting on my baby bump-less belly. "For now."

"For now?"

"For now," he said again, lifting my hand and kissing it. "Though I've got bad news for you."

"And what's that?"

"My mom's always wanted to see you in a dress."

I wasn't sure how to feel about that. Annoyed? Upset? Tired?

I settled instead on laughter.

And it felt right.

###

Notes:

Well, that's the end of Wednesday Knights! I hope folks enjoyed the journey as much as I did!

This isn't the end of the line for Leigh and Brian and the gang, but it is, at the very least, an extended hiatus. I want to spend some time on other writing projects for a while before I return to them. In the meantime, assume at least two things:

1. Brian and Leigh are Absolutely A Thing.

2. Everyone gets their happy ending, whatever that may be.

Normally this would be the point at which I link you over to the BCTS Patreon for the next chapter, but, well, here we are. Nevertheless, I'll include a link to the Patreon anyway, in case you want to see what else is going up over there (hint: new Pete, and a few other stories by both Joyce and Melanie Brown!)

The BCTS Patreon

If I may, I would also like to do a bit of direct self-promotion, and say that, if you would like to support me directly, I've got a Kofi now. Not only can I take donations if you'd like, but I also offer art commissions through it, and post non-TG articles and the like there (currently there's only a couple up, but I've got more in the works now that Wednesday Knights is done with.) All profits from my book sales go directly to supporting BC, so if you want to support me directly, then my Kofi is the best way to do it.

My Kofi account

GuerillaGrue is a name I use on most of the rest of the net (as opposed to rasufelle) nowadays, so don't be confused by that :)

Finally, Wednesday Knights in print! We're planning on the book coming out most likely near the end of November. When that happens, the chapters hosted here will mostly be made unavailable and what's on the Patreon will likely be moved to a paid tier in order to make sure that BC can benefit from book sales as much as possible, so if you want to read the whole story for free, now's the time to do it! The print version will include at least one additional exclusive short story about Leigh and Brian.

Anyway, that's it for now! As per usual, comments and kudos are welcome.