Friends with Benefits - Chapter 7

[whatshouldntbe]

Title: Friends with Benefits
Author:
whatshouldntbe
Fandom: Reboot XI/AU
Universe/Series: Part of the 'What Shouldn't Be' series
Rating: R (NC-17 over all)
Word count: 16000+ for this part, 116000+ so far
Disclaimer: I own Star Trek as much as I own the Sun, which means not at all.
Warnings: always!girl Kirk, angst, action, infidelity, language, rom-com humor, sexual situations, violence, possible amateur world-building
Summary: Jim doesn't end up at Starfleet.


Chapter 7

Sunday - July 5th - 10 a.m.

Dwight Christian Assembly

Jim has been sitting in the back the whole service. Eleanora hadn't pressured her to sit in their usual row. From back here she feels less exposed. Plus the angle allowed her to keep the congregation within her sight. She can watch the way they lift their hands during praise and worship, closing their eyes as their mouths move in a silent prayer. She wonders how they can do it. How can they believe? How do they maintain their faith?

She exhales, if only to shake off the compression she feels spinning tightly around her lungs like a thick rope. She's drowning in her own silence, in fear, and in anticipation for the future. Now that she's accepted the reality of her pregnancy, all she feels is vulnerable and exposed and clueless. Her mind keeps ticking away like clockwork, trying to make sense of things, trying to understand.

Jim has her doubts-she always has her doubts. She wonders over God and the universe and divine plans and fates. She wonders what her role in all of it is. She's exhausted and sad and lost. She feels so full-like every atom of her body wants to break apart and scatter to the winds. She feels concealed-trapped inside of herself without a way out. She has the burden of a heavy heart thumping to the beat of her anxiety; stirring the teeth of her ribcage.

"Before we begin," Reverend Nolan says as the praise and worship arc of service winds down. "My lovely wife would like to share a word with the congregation." He motions to her and she takes his place at the altar beside the glass podium.

Janelle Dwight is a brown-skinned woman with full lips, an hourglass figure and a thick mane of short curly hair. She's dressed in an olive suit and the big wedding ring on her hand gleams when she lifts the mic with a smile. She takes a moment to survey the room, as though she's searching for something. "I need ya'll to lift your hands for me and pray in your heavenly language," she instructs.

The congregation breaks out in incoherent murmurs of prayers.

Janelle starts speaking in tongues as she paces the altar. "I just feel on my heart, so heavy, that there is someone here who needs a breakthrough," she says.

Some people clap and lift their hands.

Jim frowns and shifts in her seat.

Janelle lifts a hand to the congregation as her brow furrows in serious thought. "I don't think ya'll heard me. I said someone needs a breakthrough today," she repeats and smiles slightly as everybody begins to clap and make exclamations. "I feel God puttin' that on my heart so strong. Somebody is hurtin'. Somebody is confused. Somebody is lost. And this ain't no altar call cause I realize that a lot of the time we get to a place where we feel vulnerable. We don't want nobody to know our struggles and what we goin' through. So if what I'm sayin' is reachin' you, then I just want you stand. I want everyone to stand."

Jim crosses her arms and hunches down in her seat as everyone stands. She refuses to acknowledge that Janelle might be talking about her or referencing to her. How would she know anyway? She couldn't.

Janelle goes on to say, "I want ya'll to keep prayin'. I feel God in this place right now, I feel Him so strong. I want us to utilize His presence. Let's petition Him. Let's call upon Him. I want ya'll to start to intercede, just begin to pray and cry out with everythin' in you. I want a breakthrough. I don't know about you but I want a breakthrough for myself. If you tired of goin' through-"

There's a simultaneous shout of agreement and hand claps.

"-if you tired of bein' tired, I just want you cry out. Because somethin' is going to break today," Janelle declares as she pats her stomach and shakes her head. "Oh Lord, yes, I feel this. I need ya'll with me because the word of God says that where there are two or three assembled together in His name, He will be in the midst and whatsoever we touch and agree on shall come to pass. So touch and agree with me."

Everyone claps and begins to pray fervently.

Jim feels something inside her tremble, something that she can't explain. She feels the exclamations and the prayers and the clapping reverberate through the room and ghost over her. She exhales as she tries to comprehend the sensation but something inside of her twitches and she feels even more exposed. This is stupid. All of it is stupid. She just wants to go home and go to sleep.

"My God, my God. I truly feel the glory today. Listen, can we praise a little more today? I know we have a set schedule and I know we ended worship already but I just feel sometimes it's not for us to follow a routine and control and stay in tradition. Let's break out of that because I would rather move how He would have me move," Janelle says as she paces and she takes a moment to jump up and down and shout out a hallelujah. "My God, my God. I can't be the only that is stirred. I'm stirred up in my spirit. Choir, I need you to help me sing. Band I need you to play and I want you to flow. I need you to flow with me."

The musicians get up and return to their designated instruments as the choir returns to the altar and stands behind Janelle.

Janelle paces the altar with a hand pressed to her stomach and her brow furrowed as though she's listening and feeling for a vibe. She pauses as she lifts the mic to her lips, "I have this song I want to sing. It's called, Don't Let Me Fall." She makes a motion to the musicians before she starts to sing.

Jim stands because she feels so compelled to and she follows the lyrics closely and they just stupefy her because they hit something deep and fragile inside of her.

Janelle closes her eyes as she lifts her voice and sings so beautifully that is causes tears to well up in Jim's eyes. Before she can even make sense of why, she's full on sobbing and breaking down in tears.

The elderly women around Jim begin to try and console her as they continually give thanks to God.

Jim almost wants to laugh through her tears because this is so out of her depth that it's unreal. Here she is, sobbing like a baby because Janelle's song is making her tremble on the inside. It's as if Jim can feel her soul swimming and lurching on the internally and it's unfeasible because she's never had a spiritual experience before and she can't confirm that she's having one now. All she knows is that Janelle is hitting the helplessly angry and desperately lost cords inside of her while the wall of ice around her heart begins to liquefy, lightening like a feather.

The choir sings as Janelle's reinforcement and she steps down from the altar and begins to come down the center aisle all the way to the back where Jim is.

Jim wants to shy away from the attention of the congregation as they all turn and watch her and Janelle with interest. But it's hard to be upset or shy when Janelle is looking at her with such warmth and love and understanding in her chocolate eyes. She slows down her singing as she grabs one of Jim's shaking hands and she pauses to says, "Choir, keep singin'. I want the band to keep playin'." She looks at Jim like she just knows her and she smiles gently. "Woman of God, I felt your heart from the very moment you walked in here on this day. I sense so much, and out of respect, I'm not gonna openly share anythin' other than what I am led to say. But know the Lord just wants me to tell you that you are loved. There comes a time in everyone's life when the trials are gonna come but God says that He has not given you the spirit of fear, but of love and a sound mind."

Jim's vision begins to blur because that's how thick her tears are. She can't even say how much Janelle's words are touching her or comforting her because it's all so strange. She's never experienced anything like this before. A weight is being lifted off of her in this moment and it's hard to say whether it's the compassion in Janelle's words or the actual work of God, but Jim can't find the time to care because the relief of it all is so achingly good.

Janelle goes on to say, "My God, my God. I need everyone to stretch out a hand in Ms. Kirk's direction and, in your own understanding, just begin to pray and bless her." She reaches out and lifts Jim's hands up in a sign of surrender before she takes the time to squeeze both hands. She takes a second to sing something unintelligible before she lowers the mic and leans closer to Jim. Quietly, she says, "Are you pregnant? I'm not tryin' to pry but that's just droppin' in my spirit so heavy."

Jim nods as she hiccups out a sob, amazed by Janelle's foreknowledge.

"Again, I wanna say that I ain't here to spread your business. I believe these types of circumstances require a certain grace and delicacy and I want you to know that you are not alone. You are blessed and highly favored in all that you do. The Lord wants me to tell you that the promise of your forefathers is strong in your bloodline and so therefore the labor of your hands and of your life shall always be fruitful. He says to trust and believe that He has a plan for you and your child and that so long as you live you shall never lack anythin' and your child will always be covered under the grace and protection of God, so rest assured. And you also have to forgive yourself as He has forgiven you. There is now no self-condemnation to those who come unto Christ with an open heart."

Jim sniffs and accepts the tissue someone hands her. She says, "I don't know if I believe. I'm sorry. This isn't my thing. I don't-don't usually-"

Janelle shushes her gently and says. "Free will has been gifted unto us so that we continually have the option of choice. Believe. Don't believe. It's always your choice. It's not expected of you to follow blindly but to consider with your heart what cannot be seen by the eyes. I'm not here to convert you but to offer to pray over you and your situation so that you may know that you don't have to always face adversity by yourself. May I pray for you?"

Jim sniffs again as she dries her cheeks and nods.

Janelle lifts the mic to her lips and says, "I need everyone to be in agreement with me as I pray." She goes on to say, "I speak peace over your heart and your soul. I speak resolution over your situation. I speak direction over your life and stability. My God, my God. I decree and declare that you will find satisfaction and contentment. I rebuke every word curse spoken over you and every bad intention aimed towards you. I rebuke that vagabond spirit that would have you travel from place to place with no fixed purpose, mission, or calling in life."

Jim closes her eyes as more tears begin to run down her cheeks-Janelle's words are hitting too close to home.

"I speak love over you," Janelle continues. "I speak the agape love of Christ over you and I forsake the spirit of rejection and abandonment. The word of God says that when your mother and father forsake, He shall receive you. So I declare the love and acceptance of a father over you and I ask that God bless and keep you. May He lift up his countenance and shine his face upon you. May His angels go forth before you and prepare the way. May the spirit of excellence rest upon you as it did on Daniel and David and Esther. May God open the eyes to your understanding and give you clarity to those things that which confounds you. May God open doors for you that no man can shut and shut those doors that no man can open. You are an overcomer, Ms. Kirk. You will always be blessed to prevail. Somebody give me a hand clap of praise because God says those things you've asked for in your heart, it's already done." She lowers the mic to give Jim a hug.

Jim returns the hug in genuine gratefulness and unexplainable wave of peace and tranquility washes over her.

Everyone claps as they watch the exchange with joyful expressions.

Janelle pulls back with a wide smile. "Listen, you come see me or you comm me if you ever need a willin' ear or someone to war in the spirit on your behalf or some intercessory prayer. Okay?" she urges as she rubs a hand up and down Jim's back.

Jim dabs at the corners of her eyes with the crumbled tissue in her hand. "I'll definitely keep that in mind. Thank you," she says hoarsely and clears her throat.

Janelle bats her hand. "It's nothin' really. You just stop stressin', okay? God's gonna work it all out for you. You just wait and see how it all comes together. Trust and believe."

Jim just shrugs because that's all she can do for now.

Janelle doesn't seem to mind. She just winks as she moves on and sings before she's compelled to pray for someone else.

Jim sighs as she watches and she feels even lighter when the weight of everyone's gaze lifts from her and turns elsewhere. She sniffs and grips the used and balled up piece of tissue in one hand as the other settles against her lower stomach where she senses the baby may be.

Church continues in the same sense and the atmosphere shifts tangibly as Janelle takes control of the service. She works her way through the congregation like a flaming sword, speaking and prophesying and praying as boldly as she wants to. She lays hands on some people and Jim watches with interest as those individuals fall out or shake as if they were possessed by something.

Jim's not going to lie and say she doesn't think it's amusing because she totally does, but out of respect she doesn't laugh outright. She just sits down and fans herself with one of the church fans as the choir sings soulfully against the complimentary melody of the musicians. For once, she doesn't mind that service drags on a little longer than usual. She wishes that Janelle were the one preaching every Sunday and not her husband because if she were then Jim would probably more interested in this whole Christianity thing.

At the end of it all, Janelle comes find her and they exchange comm links before Eleanora and Pauline comes and collects her. Neither of them says anything nor brings up what happened during service during the ride back to the house and for that Jim is grateful. She instead elects to concentrate on her continuing good mood as the three of them enter the house.

Eleanora tucks away in the kitchen to prepare something in hopes that Jim will be able to stomach it.

Pauline settles down in the living room with her communicator so that she can do her weekly check-up of her kids.

Jim just wanders up to her room and flops down on her bed with a bible she found. She's curious to understand what all the fuss is about. She ultimately only makes it three pages in before she falls asleep. When Pauline gently shakes her awake for dinner, her left cheek feels warm where she imagines there must be indentions of the book in her skin. She rubs at it as she sits up and yawns before she drags herself out of the room and down to the kitchen.

Eleanora serves her a plate of buttery mashed potatoes, sautéed strip steak, and mixed vegetables.

Jim leapfrogs her fork across the plate going from one thing to the other in a random order. Then she chases it all down with some ginger tea before she leaves to hideaway in her room again. She makes another try at reading again but once more, she only makes it six pages in before she falls asleep on the story of Noah.

She dreams that she's tying one end of a long strand of red ribbon to her wrist before tying the other end to Bones's, and that no matter what happens, that connection never severs.

888

Tuesday - July 7th - Noon

Jim goes to her first prenatal appointment with Dr. Yolanda Becker. After a few basic physical tests, and after Dr. Becker briefly discusses what she should expect in the oncoming weeks (physically and emotionally), she sits on the edge of the biobed in a private room. Her bio-readings are humming on the monitors behind her while Dr. Becker looks at her virtual file.

"Everything aside, how are you feelin' now?" Dr. Becker asks.

"Okay, I guess," Jim admits. "It took a bit to come to terms with everything but, I've found away and I'm still processing."

"But you're getting there. And you will get there," Dr. Becker offers with a reassuring grin. "This can be said of all mothers, sugah. Trust me, you ain't the first and certainly not the last."

Jim nods and lowers her gaze as she touches a hand to her stomach absentmindedly.

"Now, I'm not tryin' to get personal but, does the father know?" Dr. Becker asks.

Jim lifts her gaze and feels a small twinge of sadness. "Yeah. He knows."

Dr. Becker considers that quietly before she sits down on a stool in front of Jim. She says, "Women are strong, I know. We can weather any storm. We've got the whole universe inside of us. But in sayin' that, I don't think it's such a stretch to say that we ain't gotta do it all by ourselves. And you ain't gotta go through this alone either. If he's willin' to be there with you and for you, then I say let him."

"I would, I mean-I will. Just," Jim pauses as she tries to find the right words. "It's complicated right now. We're kind of not seeing eye to eye."

Dr. Becker chuckles softly. "And child, let me tell you, now that you got a baby between you, that's gonna happen more often than you think. The important thing is to keep open that link of communication. Don't let the sun set on your anger," she advises. She then pulls a stylus pen from the chest pocket of her lab coat and she scribbles against the transparent screen of her virtual file. "I'm writin' you a prescription for prenatal vitamins. The doses will be in hypos. You only need to take them once a month for about seven months, and after that, you'll be taking them each week, up until your due date."

"Okay," Jim says.

"And I'm sure I already mentioned that you need to try and eat as much as possible because you're underweight. I'm gonna prescribe you somethin' that'll help with the nausea and build your appetite. It's almost somethin' of the same thing I give to the patients of mine who suffer from vertigo. And I double-checked cause I know you got all them allergies, but it should be fine. You contact me right away if it's anythin' but."

Jim nods as she stands.

"I'll see you and the little angel in two weeks on the 22nd," Dr. Becker decides as she makes a note of it in Jim's file. She stands too and shakes Jim's hand. "I'll confirm the gender for you by then."

Jim pulls on her leather jacket and leaves the room. She freezes when she sees Bones at the end of the hall, hunched down so that he can be eye to eye with a little girl in a wheel chair who is attached to an oxygen tank, but despite that, she is looking up at him with pink cheeks and an adoring smile. The little girl's parents are standing there with smiles as well.

Bones reveals a stuffed aquamarine bunny from behind him and he touches a hand to her shoulder as she makes an excited sound and hugs it to her chest. His face softens with a grin as she squeezes the bunny to her chest and it looks like she's thanking him profusely for it.

Jim feels her lips twist into a smile at the sight and she drops her gaze before turning away. She heads to the front area of the clinic, says her goodbyes to some of the nurses (including Asiyah) before she fishes her keys out of her pocket. When she exits the clinic, she straddles her bike, revs the engine and drives off to find the closest pharmacy so she can fill her prescription.

The pharmacist, a short, white haired elderly woman by the name of Madeline Jones (grandmother of Nicki Jones) tells her it'll be a good ten minutes before her prescription is ready.

So, in the meantime, Jim strolls the aisles, looking at different things like shampoos and granola bars and house cleaners. She's not so much shopping as she is biding her time, and eventually she ends up in the kid's section where there is a collection of cheap toys on display. She picks up a boxed baby doll and when she pokes it, it cries 'mama'. Jim snorts at the irony and she pauses when she hears two voices talking in the next aisle over.

"-such a shame."

"Poor darlin'-who could imagine a thing like that happenin'?"

"Tragic, really. Makes you feel blessed. Reminds you to be grateful."

"Oh, but ain't I just? And to be so young and have such a misfortune befall."

Jim frowns. She's really trying not to ear hustle but it's a small town and these two women could be talking about someone she knows.

"Everyone's down at the hospital now."

"Reckon we should make our way too, just to pay our respect and all."

"But what to bring? I confess I've not much experience with these dealings."

Jim drops the baby doll back to its original spot before she makes her way around to the next aisle. "I'm sorry," she says as she reaches the two older women. "I couldn't help but to overhear. I, um-who is it you're talking about?"

"Why, Diane Treadway," the woman on the left answers.

The woman on the right narrows her eyes and says, "You look familiar. Are you a friend of hers?"

Jim nods.

"Well, then," the woman on the right says. "It pains me to be the one to have to tell you this, but she went into premature labor last night. Clay had to rush her to the emergency room because there was just so much blood."

"Heard they did all they could but they were just about to lose the both of them. In the end, well, that little baby died," the woman on the left adds. "Word's just spreadin' about it now and everybody and their third cousin's gone up to the hospital to offer their condolences."

Jim feels her stomach bottom out and quiver at the news. She presses a hand to her gut as she struggles to take in that information.

"I reckon you best get over there quick too," the woman on the right supposes.

The woman on the left nods in agreement. "Poor dear could use all the support she can get."

Jim watches helplessly as the women go about their way. She only snaps out of it when she hears her name being blared over the PA system, alerting her that her prescriptions are ready to be picked up. She goes and pays for it before she carries that white paper bag out to her bike. She straddles it and stares as she tries to process her thoughts.

In the end, she ends up driving to the Bayview Hospital on the other side of town. She goes to the reception area and asks a nurse for Dixie's room number. A few minutes later, she's striding down the fifth floor towards room 515, and it's easy to see that this is where she's at because there are all sorts of friends and family posted outside the room with flowers and bears and candles. She doesn't see Jocelyn or Joanna or Bones but she bets that they'll be on their way soon.

Jim locates a teary-eyed Clay and she pulls him into a hug. "I'm so sorry. I heard about what happened," she says in a miserable tone.

Clay hiccups out a sob as he pulls back. "I-I just don't understand how somethin' like this can happen, you know. And Dixie-she's devastated. I can't-she's a wreck and blamin' herself."

Jim rubs his arm. "Is it okay if I go in to see her?"

"Please do," Clay replies before he returns to Barbara Treadway's side.

Jim enters the room. It's dark because the blinds and the curtains are drawn.

Dixie is standing in her hospital gown, hands gripping the edge of the glass encasing a small bed clearly meant for an infant. It's empty, but Dixie is staring down at it as though she can still see a reminiscent of her child.

Jim's heart twists painfully and her stomach lurches in sympathy. She almost feels guilty for pressing a hand to her lower abdomen where her own child is, still nestled under muscle and tissue, safe and alive.

"They wouldn't let me hold him," Dixie rasps quietly. "I didn't even get to hold him before they took him."

Jim comes closer and rests a hand on Dixie's shoulder but she shakes her head and shies away from the touch with a distant look in her eyes.

"He wasn't breathin'-he didn't even cry. He was purple," Dixie continues as she cocks her head as she chews at her fingernails. "Wasn't breathin'. Purple. He was mine. Mine and they took him before I could hold him. Before I could tell him that everythin' would be okay. Momma's here. Everything's okay. Momma's here. Momma's here."

Jim's eyes grow hot and she presses a hand to her trembling mouth.

"He wasn't breathin' and they took him to bring him back but I didn't get to hold him. If they let me hold him," Dixie rambles as she reaches down and grips the small baby blanket left behind in the bed. "I got all this milk," she says as she touches a hand to her chest. "And I ain't got no one to give it to."

"Dixie," Jim says hoarsely. "I am so sorry. Please believe that."

Dixie picks up the blanket and presses it to her chapped lips just as a couple of male nurses come in.

"Mrs. Kalakona, you need to settle back in bed again," one of the male nurses says as he guides her to the biobed. "The doctor will be here in a moment to give you those antibiotics."

Dixie just mutters into the fleece fabric of the blanket as she climbs onto the biobed robotically and curls up into the fetal position.

Jim swallows against the twinge of deep sympathy that stabs into her heart.

"I'm sorry," the other male nurse says as he approaches Jim. "I'm gonna have to ask you to leave so she can rest. It's been-very tryin'."

Jim nods in understanding before she exits the room. She avoids looking at anyone directly as she walks towards the elevators. She barely has enough time to press the call button before a shadow falls beside her.

"Ms. Kirk." It's Chadwick. "Have you been thinkin' about what I said? You been awfully quiet."

"Jesus Christ," Jim hisses, glaring at him with red eyes. "Your fucking sister just went through-you know what? I don't even know why I'm wasting my time." She climbs on the elevator.

Chadwick just shoves his hands in the pockets of his slacks and continues to look indifferent. "It's awful what happened. But it didn't happen to me so I don't know what you want me to say. If it was our kid then of course I would be in pieces," he says.

Jim shakes her head with an angry smile. "Do me a favor. Fuck off." She stabs her finger into the lobby button and is all too happy to watch the doors close on Chadwick's frustrated face. She exhales a shuddering breath as the elevator lowers and she uses the tips of her fingers to swipe away her tears.

Eleanora and Pauline cross paths with her just as she's walking through the sliding doors.

Pauline says, "How's it lookin' up there?"

"Not good," Jim says. "Not good at all."

"It's such a shame," Eleanora quietly comments. "Things like this rip my heart to ribbons."

Pauline touches her hand to Eleanora's elbow and Eleanora covers that hand with her own with a grateful look.

"Well, I was just headed home. I don't think they're letting anymore visitors in to see Dixie but mostly all of her friends and family are up there," Jim confirms, trying to be helpful in some way.

Eleanora nods as she studies Jim. "How are you? I know this hits close to home, all things considered."

Jim just shrugs and shakes her head. "I'm trying not to let it get to me like that or think about if I was in her shoes because-" She stops suddenly because she can't even continue. "I just really need to get back to the house."

Paulina pats her cheek with friendly understanding. "You go rest and don't let the survivor's guilt suffocate you."

"Dixie is strong," Eleanora adds. "She'll work through it, God willin'. Just pray for her."

Jim nods with a weak smile before it slowly fades. She hugs Eleanora and Pauline before she wanders outside to find her bike. She straddles it when she does and drives off. At first, she intends to go back to the house, but she changes her mind because after this little bomb, well, she doesn't exactly feel up to being alone. Which is why she pulls up to Florence's apartment complex and treks up to her front door.

Florence welcomes her in without a word. She locks the door behind her and fetches Jim a glass of water when asked.

Jim settles down on Florence's bed, picking up the metal slinky that's on the ground and plays with it.

Florence sits down beside her as she passes over an icy cup of water.

Jim takes it gratefully as she sets down the slinky to reach in the white paper bag in her lap to take the oral medication.

Florence watches her and says, "You eat yet, Blue? You hungry?"

Jim shrugs because she's not really, which is why she's taking this medicine.

"How about some takeout?" Florence says as she stands again and goes hunting for some menus.

Jim fingers the rim of her cup. "Dixie lost-"

"I know," Florence interjects, back turned to Jim as she fishes through her kitchen drawers.

Jim can't tell what she's thinking. "Have you gone to see her?"

"Can't," Florence grunts. "Hospitals freak me out. Never liked them."

Jim is certain there's a story there. Something to do with her sordid past. She wants to ask but she knows that will only end up turning into an argument. So she just lifts her cup of water to her mouth and drinks the rest of it down.

Florence makes a triumphant sound before she returns to the bed with a menu. "How about some Thai? This place here has the best vegetable stir fry I ever ate," she claims. "Gimme your communicator."

"Why do you need mine?" Jim asks just to be difficult.

"On account of I don't got my own," Florence says with a huff. "Now hand it over."

Jim does.

Florence orders practically everything off the menu before she kills the connection and tosses the menu in the direction of the coffee table. "So how you been?" she asks before she lowers herself to her knees and presses a hand to Jim's stomach. "How's my favorite little bean?"

Jim smiles slightly and slaps her hands away. "We're both fine," she assures. "Thank God."

"God, ey? Never pegged you as spiritual, Blue," Florence remarks as she leans against the edge of her bed and rests her head in her propped hand.

"I'm not," Jim admits. "But, with this pregnancy, I'm not so against the concept. I've been figuring things out. I even read the bible sometimes, you know, for pure scholarly interest that is."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I've been praying too."

"Praying?" Florence echoes with a strange kind of smile. "How so?"

"In the mornings before I start my day. And sometimes before I go to bed. I'm doing it as an experiment. Nothing too serious. Plus I like the way it makes me…" Jim trails off as she tries to find the right words. "It's peaceful. Like meditation. It helps I think."

"Well I'm not knocking it. I do a good little prayer once and a while. When I think it matters," Florence supposes as she ruffles her red hair and tongues at her lip piercing. "I like God just fine. Me and Him? We got an understanding, you know?"

Jim nods and yawns without meaning to.

"Uh oh. Someone's tired," Florence notes. "You and the little bean rest up. I'll wake you two up when the food's here."

Jim thinks about foregoing a nap but in the end she decides it might be better to just rest. She can't say that her visit with Dixie is causing her to be extra cautious, but it's certainly compelling her to be a lot more mindful of herself and the baby. So she crawls to the middle of the bed, collecting several pillows as she goes, before she curls them around her and settles on her side.

Florence grabs a wool-knit blanket and throws it over Jim before she wanders over to her couch and turns on her TV. She flicks through a few channels before she settles on a Family Feud marathon (her favorite show).

"I ran into Chadwick at the hospital," Jim murmurs as she rocks her foot over the edge of the bed. "Well, I should say that he tried to corner me."

"Brought up that marriage shit while his sister was going through?" Florence sounds appalled. "That asshole really needs his block knocked off."

Jim chuckles as she hugs a pillow closer. "I couldn't agree more."

Florence hums distractedly and that's the end of the conversation.

Jim falls asleep and she dreams that she's in a room full of coffins the size of shoeboxes. She's shaken awake by Florence who says that she's been crying in her sleep and trembling.

After Florence retrieves her some tissue and another glass of water, she goes to answer her door when there comes a knock. She lets the deliveryman in and he sets up all the food on Florence's small coffee table. She pays for the food and gives a sizeable tip that the deliveryman thanks her profusely for as he exits out the door. Florence locks it behind him before she goes back to the living room.

Jim drains her glass of the water as she throws her used tissue away and joins Florence on the couch. Between the two of them, they polish off at least several dishes while they pick opposing teams during each episode of Family Feud.

Florence has this thing about picking the families she thinks are secretly fucked up and Jim can't do anything but laugh at her for it.

"Do you want to spend the night?" Florence asks as she notices how dark it's getting.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow," Jim supposes. Allison had canceled on her anyway, so she was free for the night. She hiccups before she burps.

Florence snorts. "You're so cute. This is a real burp." She swallows several times before she gives a disgusting belch that sounds like a mixed between a dying pig and a sobbing whale.

Jim scrunches her nose as she laughs. "Okay, you win," she promises as she leans back with a content sigh. She presses a hand to her full stomach, all too glad that she doesn't have the urge to regurgitate all the food she just ate. She does wince a little when her bra brushes her boobs the wrong way. She lifts her hands and cups her breasts with a face.

"What? What's the matter? Are you lactating?" Florence jokes and ducks back when Jim takes a swing at her.

"No, you ass," Jim huffs as she goes right back to groping her chest. "My fucking boobs are like tender and sore." She gently prods around her nipple.

"I think that's normal, right?"

"Yeah. I went to go see my doctor today and she told me that things like this would be a regular occurrence. Among other things," Jim mutters as she continues to poke at her breasts. "Did you know I'll actually be so full of milk I'll leak and wont that be mortifying?"

"I think they got all kinds of preggo bras that can counter that," Florence offers before she turns her attention back to the TV. "So you saw Bones today?"

"No. Not like that anyway."

"He your doctor, ain't he?"

"One of my doctors," Jim corrects and frowns.

"You two still fighting?"

Jim shrugs.

Florence just shakes her head sadly. "So how's the pageant going so far?"

"Meh." Jim shrugs again, even though Florence isn't paying attention to her. "This weekend we're going out to Albany County for this veteran's thing. I still haven't picked a talent I'm going to perform."

"It'll come to you I'm sure," Florence guarantees distractedly.

Jim hums before she folds her legs under her and leans against the back of the couch.

She falls asleep again.

Part 2