The Education of John Matheson:
Post Doctorate - Gestation

by Mistress Sarah

Summary: This story takes place after the events of Doctorate. In this story, John Matheson-Gideon is asking himself the question "What do I have to live for now?" while Matthew Gideon-Matheson's ghost is trying to teach John his final lesson in life and love; that it's OK to live.
Series: This is the final part of The Education of John Matheson series in which John Matheson is taught about life and love by:
Sarah Chambers (Elementary), Dureena (Preparatory), Galen (Bachelors), Max Eilerson (Masters), Matthew Gideon (Doctorate), Matthew Gideon (Post Doctorate)
Disclaimer: They aren't my characters, they belong to other people, but I dusted them off and borrowed them :D.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings : John Matheson/Matthew Gideon
Pregnant : John Matheson
Notes: regular- speech that is spoken. [regular font] - John Matheson's telepathing. Italics - Matthew Gideon's ghost talking. Yes, I said G-H-O-S-T.

Mistress Sarah would like to place the blame for this story on Ben & Jerry's Half-Baked Ice-cream and the Space Witches. The combination of those two things causes rather unusual ideas.

I immediately told Sashi and Sinya that I was retiring in three months, and they were startled.  They appeared devastated by the news, and I suddenly realized how much the three of us had gone through together.  The three of us had salvaged the old Bykovsky after the explosion that had torn through the ship’s hull, and we had worked together on the new Bykovsky for years. Stolid, dependable and true hearted, they were my foundation of support on the Bykovsky, and I would miss these two women intensely.

I knew that I shouldn’t allow myself to feel anything for them, as they would also disappear out of my life, like my friends from the Excalibur had scattered to the far corners of the universe after we had broken the crew up.  Clamping down, I smothered my emotions. I was proud that my voice was unemotional when I told them, “When I found out that Matt… was dying, I told HQ that I wanted out so I could spend some time with him. I really wanted to take care of him, before he died but he didn’t want me to see his slow decline.”

You never told me that, John.  Thank you.

“The earliest they would release me was the end of this enlistment.  Don’t tell anyone, just yet.  Kat, I’ve told HQ that I want you promoted to Captain, and if you can keep that Russkie temper of yours under control, odds are you might be wearing Captain’s bars when I leave. Dismissed, Ladies. I have paperwork that I need to finish.”

They left quickly, and I immediately closed my eyes. [Matt!]

I’m here, you don’t need to shout.

[We’ve got to be careful, as there are three Telepaths on this ship.  Two of them are weaker than I am, but the third is a P8.  He might pick our conversations up if he’s around. I’m not sure what he’ll make of them, but he might think I’m having a personality split.  It wouldn’t be a good thing if they deep scanned me, as they’ll find you.  I had my last scan by Jones just before I left, so I don’t think we have to face that.]

I could feel Matt’s fear when I mentioned a deep scan, and then relief when he heard that Jones shouldn’t be a problem.

[Be careful, please.]   I sent that to him softly.

The two of us struggled to keep John functioning as Captain.  I did most of the paperwork as John’s concentration was on other things, and it was a struggle for me to not sign, “Matthew Gideon, Captain” on everything I wrote. I did once, and I quickly tore up the offending paperwork.  No, instead, I signed everything with a flourish, John Matheson-Gideon, Captain. The crew seemed to accept the fact that John was burdened with his own problems, so everyone was on their best behavior. No crew incidents landed on his desk, though I had the distinct impression that Sashi was acting as a go-between and handling the minor problems and shouldering the majority of the day-to-day things that required John’s attention.

John’s mind wasn’t on Captaining his crew, so there were a few startling moments when I interjected a point or two.  They’d look at him, waiting for the CAPTAIN to respond, and John wouldn’t have a damn clue of what was going on, so I began shouting orders. Sashi, she was a little too observant, as she looked at him in askance after a classic Matthew Gideon bluff.  Some group of hostiles was getting snippy, and so I threatened to burn their ship’s engines out if they couldn’t be civil.  She was staring at me, and she reminded me of nothing more than a Siberian Tiger I had seen when I was a child.  The animal had been proud, and it had an icy look in his eyes, that plainly said it didn’t approve of its captivity.   Kit-Kat was now giving me the same disapproving look, which she was trying to hide from the junior officers.

“Sorry.” I mumbled in my best Matheson impersonation.  “Was something I picked up from Matt when I was his XO. It worked then, and I thought it would work now. You simply can’t condone bad manners, Sashi.  To do so, makes everything think they can be as rude as they want to be without feel of reprisal.”

“Yes, sir. I have to admit it was… a rather unexpected move, and it completely confounded the enemy.”  [And the crew] was her unvoiced comment, which I heard loud and clear.

“And the crew, too, Commander Sashi.  I believe you were about to say that.  Hopefully no one lost their bladder control during it.” I laughed softly at her stunned expression, but inside I was screaming at John to get his head out of the clouds.  Her eyes suddenly focused on me, and I suddenly felt… fear.

She knew something was really, noticeably odd about John, and she was going to try to figure out what it was. I could tell by the determined look in her eyes, as she suddenly reminded me of my spouse when he had been my XO. I had tried to bend the truth a few times with him, but he always managed to find me out.

JOHN!  She’s too damn smart, Kit-Kat’s noticing that you’re not acting normally. I don’t think I can fool her, as she’s too fucking observant, just like you were.  Come on, John, I can’t run your ship for you. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?

John returned from whatever sector he had been in, and I briefly updated him on the situation.  He wasn’t feeling well, having a headache right between his eyes, and feeling nauseous.

John? You gonna toss your cookies on the bridge?


“Commander Sashi, you have command. I’ll be in my office working on paperwork.” I said that to her smoothly, while I suddenly had a queasy feeling in my spectral stomach.  Come on, JOHN! We don’t need to share this, now do we?

“Sir? Might I suggest you go to your quarters? You look a tad green around the gills.” Her heavy accent didn’t hide the fact that she was deeply concerned about John, and not just because that he was looking a mite green.

“Good idea, Commander Sashi.”

The two of us managed to get to John’s quarters before he got violently ill.  John threw up everything, including his toes, a few spare organs that he didn’t need and everything he'd eaten or thought of eating in the last three weeks, ever since returning to his ship. I’ve been on a drunken binge or four in my lifetime, and John was easily surpassing my morning after best.

John? You got the flu?

It wasn't that, it was just a side effect of all the medications and hormones that Sarah had pumped into my Telepath's body.

“Think so.”

Come on, lie down. I’ll rub your tummy if you like. You feel feverish, John, call out sick tomorrow.

“Just… might.”  John admitted softly. “I’ve got this headache for days now, and I keep hearing a murmuring. Like water running or something. It’s been distracting the hell out of me.”

Murmuring? I questioned.

“Mentally. Can you hear it?”  He asked hopefully, blatant in his desire to have my confirmation of that noise that was driving him crazy.

I paused, and I listened intently.  Didn’t hear a damn thing, but then again, I was dead. Hearing is not one of the senses that dead people use frequently.  No. Nothing

“Ok. Must be me.”

See Sin then.


Of course, John didn’t bother seeing Sinya, he just stayed in bed the next day. No doubt the good doctor would have run a test or two that would show that his endocrine system was acting a little odd.  Sarah had warned John that if the procedure failed, it might take a couple months for everything to get back to normal, and that he'd be feeling a little 'morning sick' until then. It was funny; he went from puking his guts up to feeling really randy in about two hours.  I was sleeping, when suddenly John began sending me these incredible images of what he wanted me to do to him.

John? I take it that you’re feeling better?

Trust me, he was feeling much better, especially if he was broadcasting that rather lewd, though really exciting idea.

“Yes.” He whispered. “Lots better, except I’m feeling really…”

I can tell. Let’s see what I can do to help alleviate your itch. We're not running down to try out the conference table. We'll try that particular position right here in bed, it's a little softer, especially if you lose your balance. Where did you get that idea from? Was it something Galen liked?

John wouldn't answer that question, but still I scratched his itch repeatedly that night.  Every time I thought his itch was soothed, he’d want me again.  For some reason, John was really sensitive around his nipples, and even the mental thought of me on them drove him crazy.

We had been on his ship for almost three months now, and he seemed to be stabilizing as his retirement grew closer and closer.  His periods of depressions still occurred too frequently for my taste, but John seemed to be emotionally at his best since I died. By no stretch of the imagination could he be considered anywhere similar to the old John Matheson. He never laughed anymore, and he smiled infrequently. He was withdrawing into himself, and the two of us spent a lot of time talking.

Ok. I talked, and John listened, but I could usually poke or prod a response out of him.

John. We’ve got to talk.  I was teasing him, and he smiled slightly.

“’Bout what, Matthew?”

I think you’re developing the Captain’s paunch.  Which amazes me as you’re still throwing up so often.  You need to get a bigger size, especially if you’re going to suddenly get turned on in the middle of a shift. Lord, everyone could see that today your main gun was ready to be fired. Let’s not forget that incident in your ready room a few days ago.  Fortunately the table hid the fact that we had to unzip your pants so we could release some of the pressure before it blew sky high.  We were lucky that nobody dropped a pen, and had to look under the table, else they would have seen that the Captain’s flagpole was up, and waving the EF flag proudly. John, I never ever had that problem, neither during a STAFF MEETING nor on THE BRIDGE! John, Your uniform. It’s getting tight, buddy.

“Do you really think?” John touched his offending stomach, and tried his best to suck it in.

‘Fraid so, John. Don’t worry. It’s happens to all of us, including me.

John was a bit vain, so he turned and viewed himself in the mirror while I commented on the fact that his pants were getting tight.  He suddenly shut me out of his thoughts, and I was surprised when he started stripping. Soon, he was standing naked in front of his mirror, and John was looking rather puzzled at his reflection.

What’s the problem? You’ve got a belly, John.

“Matt.”  John’s voice was strange. “I want you to think calmly for a moment. Concentrate on thinking friendly thoughts. Like this.” He sent me an image, fuzzy and soothing. “Can you do it?”

Like this. I sent him something that I could only describe as ‘happy thoughts with happy trees.”

“Wonderful.”  His voice had a strange sound in it, and I wondered what he was keeping from me. “Concentrate. Let our minds… join.”

I was wrapped in a soothing cocoon of John’s thought, and I felt his strange jubilation.   He gently placed his hands on his stomach and he sent what we were thinking inward.  For a moment, I heard the mumbled sound of running water, and then I felt a flutter when our thoughts touched that sound.  John’s thoughts suddenly blazed into a feeling of unconditional love, greetings and acceptance, and I found myself mirroring him.

[Hello.] John’s mental voice was a soft whisper. [Little one, I didn’t realize it was you making all that noise. I should have known, I’m so sorry. We’re both here, Matt and I, for you. You need to learn how to shield or else you’ll be picking up all sorts of sounds. You’re a little precocious with your telepathic potential, so I’ll have to shield you. Like this.]

Then the sound faded quickly, and I found myself stunned because I realized what it meant.


“Yes. It worked, Matt. It worked.”

A Telepath this young?

“Not completely.  But the potential is there, and as I’m a Telepath, I’ve been hearing it.”

John’s pregnancy seemed to work magic on his depression, as now he felt that he had something to live for.  I wasn’t crazy about the fact that now his entire energy was focused internally; on our child, and me, but at least John wore a bemused half-smile at times.  Especially when he was in the Captain’s chair, when he’d gently touch his belly, and send thoughts inwardly of how much he loved our child.

You’re going to spoil it, if you keep telling it how much you love it.

[It? Matthew, our child is NOT an IT. Telepathic children need reassurance especially when they’re unborn. Besides, I know perfectly damn well that you've placed "our" hand on my belly quite a few times also.]

Well, I don’t know what sex it is, as we don’t know. So we can’t call our child “he” or “she” and I’m not calling it “baby.”  Ok, Bumpy, Daddy Matt loves you too.

[Bumpy?]  John laughed softly at that comment, while I moved our hand back to his belly, and Sashi turned to look at him.  He flashed her a slight smile, and he apologized. “Just remembered something that Matt told me.”

“Oh.” Sash obviously wished that she knew what to say, so she proceeded to set a course in for where John was going to disembark.  I had won a cabin in Tempus system, in a card game a few years back, and that was where John had decided that he wanted to retire. Nice spot, mountains, trees and a lake.

I think I concealed it from everyone, but then again, probably nobody was expecting me to be pregnant.  Hell, I hadn’t even thought it was a possibility because Sarah had told me that the implant hadn’t taken.  Whatever the reason, I had suddenly put two and two together to realize what that sound was that was driving me to distraction. Matt’s and my unborn child or children were going to be Telepathic and it was mentally murmuring to me. It was unusual but not unheard of for an unborn child to be actively Telepathic, but I suddenly had the sinking feeling that it was going to be a rough pregnancy for me.  Especially toward the last few months when the baby would be telling me that it was feeling extremely cramped in my belly.

Everything had changed for me in that moment when I realized that I was with child.  Life was worth living again, and I constantly ‘pathed my love to the child-to-be.

Before I left the ship, I swiped a few of Sinya’s medical scanners, and proceeded to scan me.  It confirmed what I had figured out, and that everything appeared to be developing just fine. For a moment, I had been tempted to get a definite answer when the scanner questioned if I wanted to know the number and sex of what I was carrying, but I punched in no.

Matt was absolutely ecstatic, and I was moved by how excited he was.  He was even more of an enthusiastic lover, enjoying every chance he could get to touch my Buddha belly and me. In the afterglow, the two of us would place our hands on my slight protrusion and send thoughts of how much the child was wanted by both or us. It was too young to have much awareness, but secretly I thought that the child-to-be seemed to grow more animated whenever we ‘pathed with it.

Saying goodbye to my crew was hard, but I needed to leave before I really began to show.  Else one day, Sash would finally figure out what was bothering her about me.  She should have been a Teep, as her intuition was right on the money, and she knew something was up.  I hadn’t wanted a party, but they threw one for me anyway, and the number of people who showed up for it greatly surprised me.

Sinya had set up transportation for me as a parting gift. Some old friends of hers were "Free-Lancers”, traders who went from port to port selling and trading, and not too overly fond of  rules and regulations.  I managed to blend into the scenery at a spaceport for a few days until they met up with me. Those days I had spent rummaging through assorted ‘bookstores’ and other places, gathering as much information as I could on a certain subject near to my heart. “Pregnancy, Male, Telepaths, Impregnated by, Dead Lover who are still around in your head and likely to keep making EXTREMELY snide comments about your increasing waistline.”

I’m not making snide comments, John. I’m just expressing an opinion on the fact that you’re not as lissome and svelte as you use to be.

[Thanks ever so much, Matthew. Seriously, Matt, can you believe that they don’t have ANYTHING on that particular topic?]

I hear next year they’re coming out with a new book. “Knocked up Male Telepaths and the Spirits who love them.”  It will be a little too late for you, I’m afraid but it's gonna be a best seller!

Being dead apparently didn’t improve Matt’s sense of humor at all.  So, I made do with what I could find and then some.  Nutrition, health, pregnancy, and I even grabbed a few crystals on military history, including a few of the books written about the Excalibur by former crewmembers.  I figured I’d read them, just to get even with Matthew’s insinuating comments about my thickening waistline.   I wasn’t showing THAT badly, if I could still wear his sweater.

Matt began making noises that sounded like he wanted to throw up.

OH PUH-LEEZ! I don’t want to read a book by TRACE MILLER of all people. I should have spaced him almost immediately.

Tough, Matt.  I smiled slightly to myself, remembering how Matt had pouted when I bought the crystal anyway.  Looking up, from where I was sitting in the café, I noticed that someone was giving me the once over, and I returned the look.

“Yuri? Yuri! It is you, I haven’t seen you in years.” It was an older oriental man who was addressing me.

“Byung?” I asked. He nodded slightly. “You look good. How’s the wife?”

“Meaner than ever, she is.”

“Sinya is like that.”


I relaxed, as the code words had been passed.  Sinya had not given me a description of who would meet me, but just that Byung would find me and call me Yuri.  It was a small ship, with no gravity, so the group seemed apologetic for not being able to offer me a better ride.  It wasn’t what I was used to, but I was grateful that Sinya had managed to contact them.  EF wouldn’t be able to track me, hopefully, as Byung was very good at covering his tracks. It was time for me to disapear from the universe, and just focus on the three of us for now.

For the next month, I stayed in the single room they had offered me.  I had assured Byung that I was quite comfortable there, and to just forget about me. They went about their business, while I hung in my safety harness and watched my assortment of data crystals.  Matt was almost as interested in what I was looking at as I was, but he would often insert rather lewd thoughts into my mind while I was trying to view the medical journals.   It was rather tough to study the crystals when my mental passenger started making risqué comments about the bulge in my belly, and the bulge in my pants.

It took about a month to get to the Tempus system, and I was glad to be finally off the vessel.  Sinya’s friends were pleasant, but I was longing to be home, and my safety harness was getting a bit too snug.  I didn’t even need Gideon’s soft mental comments for me to realize that as I could see how my body was changing! My developing breasts were now quite sore, and Matthew loved to fondle them at the most inopportune times.  It’s difficult to have a lover who's a ghost, as there were a few times I was talking to Byung while I was receiving thoughts of Matthew sucking my breasts.

Matt, even in death, was incorrigible.

Now, I was home.   I had ordered numerous things for our new home while at the spaceport and they were due to start arriving shortly. My new house was unbelievably beautiful, and far enough from my neighbors that I could have privacy.


I took my knife, and I shoved it into the grass at my feet.  Separating the soil carefully from the roots, I picked up some of the dark black dirt in my hands. It smelled rich and loamy, and suddenly I just had this craving to taste it.  The taste of it was fertile and fruitful, and I savored it. Suddenly I felt like I was really… HOME.  All these years I had wandered throughout the stars, and now… finally, I was home.  Planted, if you will.

YOU’RE EATING DIRT, JOHN! Matt’s voice was scandalized.

“I wanted to taste it. I need to feel like I’ve been planted here, Matt.  I’m planning on having our child here, and I want to feel connected, like we belong here.”

John. I’m really putting my ghost foot down. I want you to have our child in a HOSPITAL. With a doctor present. Have you forgotten that you’re going to need a C-Section? The baby’s not coming out of your belly button.

I ignored him, and I explored the cabin.  Cabin was a bad name for it, as it had six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a master suite, Jacuzzi, and numerous other rooms.  I was already deciding where to put the nursery, when I came to the back porch. It was wide, and as long as the house, and it overlooked the lake.

Suddenly, I really wanted to swim, so I stripped and jumped into the lake. It was icy cold, but I didn’t mind. Gideon was being overprotective, worrying that I’d catch pneumonia, so I regretfully got out of the waters before I really wanted to.

[Happy?] I sent to him.  Not expecting an answer, I didn’t get one, so I decided to lie out on the back porch on one of the loungers.  Stark naked, I lay there, and let the sun dry me.  I relaxed there for hours, gently stroking my stomach. [It’s beautiful here. You’re going to love it.]

Impending fatherhood had pushed a whole set of new worries on my plate, so I tartly told John it was time to get the hell out of the lake before his dick froze off.  Pneumonia, John, people have died from it? Perhaps you’ve heard of it? He was also eating DIRT.  John claimed that he wanted to feel connected to the land, which scared me.  Never did I think John was into the Earth-mother-goddess religion, but there he was, happily eating DIRT.

Ok, it had a nice taste to it, but I really didn’t want seconds.

John hadn’t told anyone where he was going, and when he said he was planning on having the baby here, I suddenly decided that I needed to prompt Sarah into looking for him.  I don’t even think that the rest of the Crusaders knew that John had retired from EF. John had sent them all a quick note before he had left, telling them that he was going to busy for a bit on a mission planet-side, and he’d get in touch with them when he could.

Sneaky ‘path. Almost as devious as I was, so I decided to get involved. John had finally gotten out of the water and was contentedly lying in the sun, drying off.  He was safe for now, not likely to suddenly decide to commit hara-kiri so I decided to take a day trip.


I hadn’t done this before, so that’s why I blundered a bit.  I thought that if I focused on Sarah intensely, I’d be able to find her faster as her mind was the only one I had ever touched besides John.  Entering her mind like a comet, I completely shattered the mood that Max and she were in.  Kissing Eilerson is not a fantasy of mine, and my revulsion came through loud and clear. Oh YUCK! Sarah suddenly began wiping her lips off, while I tried to quiet my distaste. Max was a decent kisser, but I really, really preferred John.


“What? Don’t you like the way I kiss? After all these years, together, you’ve got a complaint?” Max wasn’t sure why his wife had suddenly looked like she had eaten a sour pickle, and too much questioning might get the Eilerson-Chambers marriage horizontal before my mission was complete. I really didn’t want to be around for that. TRUST ME! Kissing Eilerson was bad enough, but fucking him… I took a quick look around, and nearly sighed in relief. Sarah wasn’t in restraints, so probably I could, pardon the pun, ‘consummate’ my mission.

Sarah wasn’t sure why suddenly her mood was now history, nor why she was looking for restraints, so I prompted her. Jaia! She had heard something in Jaia’s room, now she was worried and also very glad that she wasn’t tied up!

“I thought I heard something in Jay’s room. I better go check.”

“Let me. I’m more clothed than you are.” Max and Sarah kissed again, and this time I pretended to be playing solitaire with a set of phantom cards.  “That was better. You’re absolutely sure you heard Jaia?”

Sarah nodded. Actually, I nodded, and then I traveled to where Jaia was, trying to make a little noise to disturb her, so Eilerson would have to spend some time with her. Else the two of them may decide to let the kid rough out the bad dream. Jay was in a dream state and she suddenly… SAW me.  She began screaming in real terror, as she knew I was dead.  Then the cat went crazy, as it plainly saw that I wasn’t really there either.


Shit! Sorry, kid! I need to speak with your mom. I trekked back to where Sarah was getting out of bed. She had grabbed her robe, and she was worried. Jaia never had nightmares, until Uncle Mattie showed up. No. Let Eilerson handle it. He'll probably think that you don’t believe he’s capable of dealing with it. Then his feelings will get hurt, and then you won’t get lucky tonight.

Please, knowing Max, he'd sulk for months, and I really needed to have Sarah worry about John, not her husband's hurt feelings.

Let Max handle it, it's so nice to be warm in bed.

Sarah pondered the thought that suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and my heart stopped AGAIN while she debated. Once is enough in a lifetime is enough for that particular feeling. Then Sarah agreed to let Max deal with the nighttime scares of a four-year-old, and she returned to bed, thinking rutty thoughts. My, my, MY, Sarah Chambers-Eilerson. You are a dirty-minded woman and I'm glad you decided to teach John a few things.

Ah! Quick, I was being corrupted and led astray by the licentious natives, so I sent her a sad thought. Poor Jaia. I placed in her mind, carefully. She’s probably upset about Matt. Like we all are.

Least, I hope you’re upset about the fact I croaked, Sarah. Right now you seem more upset that you're not getting lucky.

SHIT! Stop the side comments, Matt!

I really wish I had an instruction book of some sort to help me out, as I didn’t want to send THAT thought to her.

Matthew Gideon- Matheson, for the last time, try to stop the running commentary, and start trying to save John.

Poor Matt, what a way to die, and poor John who had to be there when it happened.  You know John, might have picked up his death vision, and…  I remembered reading that Telepaths were especially sensitive to the crossing over.  Maybe John had been affected more than he let us know. I deliberately planted a picture of John weeping at the gravesite, while clutching the EF flag into her mind, and Sarah’s mind began echoing with that train of thought.  I began prompting her thoughts with a few choice comments.

I wonder how John’s doing?  Haven’t heard from him in a bit, and… he seemed… odd last time we spoke. Matt’s death really affected him, and he was really upset when the procedure failed.  Maybe I should be keeping an eye on him. Matt would want that.

Her conscience felt guilty, as Sarah had been concentrating on her own grief, her career and her family, so I prodded it again. MATTHEW WOULD REALLY WANT ME TO KEEP AN EYE ON JOHN. He knew that John and I were close. I OWE MATTHEW THAT MUCH AFTER ALL THE TWO OF US HAVE BEEN THROUGH.  I set that thought on auto-loop, and then I tried to find my way back to John. Sarah, you were far too compassionate for your own good, but now, I’m blessing you for it. Keep an eye on my pregnant ‘path, please?

Mission accomplished, and I tried to find John.

Matt had disappeared, and he had been gone for a few days.  He sometimes did that, so I wasn’t too concerned, but I still missed him.  It was lonely in the house without him, so I busied myself, trying to set everything up.  First, I finished the master bedroom.  It had a wonderful king sized waterbed that I enjoyed sleeping in, as I could spread out as much as I needed to. It also reminded me strongly of those absolutely incredible times when I had seduced a rather willing Matthew.

Then I decided to paint the nursery as the room was originally painted this ungodly color of… pistachio-lime, which would probably give our baby nightmares.  Matt still wasn’t back, so I took my time, really enjoying the chance I had to work with my hands.  Really, I had nothing scheduled for the next few months except to gain a lot of weight, watch a lot of data crystals and listen to Matt’s acidic comments about my strange food cravings. I don’t think that either eating ice chips nor wanting the occassional avocado dipped in chocolate was anywhere as near as bad as Matt made it out to be.  He didn’t need to keep carrying on about me eating dirt. I did it once, ok?

Having looked at my social calendar, and finding it completely blank except for some unknown day several months in the future, I decided that I might as well finish the nursery now while I could still move.  Whimsically, I decided to do the nursery in the latest fashion, starship chic, as the thought of painting cute little bunnies, teddy bears or dinosaurs made me cringe.  I even detailed the ceiling with assorted moons, planets, nebulae, and stars that Matt and I had visited on our tours in EF, and a pretty decent drawing of a few Starships.  The Excalibur was shaped a little too much like a phallic symbol, but I figured that Bumpy would never notice it.  The Bykovsky turned out slightly better, so I was happy.  I even painted a small flyer on one of the planets, complete with a very small person riding it, with sunglasses and a leather jacket, and just to bust Matt’s chops, there was even a Technomage Ship rescuing it from harm.

I assembled the furniture myself, and even painted it.  It was amazing, that as my belly was expanding, my head was clearing from the never ending grief I had been experiencing. I had loved Matthew deeply for years, but our last days together, my adoration for him had burned as hot as a new born sun.  When Matthew had died, my heart had been shattered, and I knew that I had been skirting the edge of madness for the first few days. What had saved me then had been Matthew.

The time sped by, as I was busy working on the house making it ship-shape and presentable for the upcoming winter.  Pretending that I was a disabled vet, complete with a cane, I had hired a few of the locals to cut and stack some firewood for me.  That way they wouldn’t think it was odd that an apparently healthy man couldn’t chop and stack his own firewood. I also noticed that the kids saw that I had a visible collection of rifles next to the fireplace, and I had left my target practice equipment out. Dead center, every damn shot I had fired.  Let them think it was a gentle warning not to attack a handicapped Space Vet, as it hid the real reason. What I was protecting us from were those people who might take my reason for living away from me.

Matthew still wasn’t back, and it had been over two weeks since I had last heard from him.  I missed him, especially at night, when I lay in our bed and concentrated on sending my love and reassurances to our unborn Bumpy.  When I was in the PSI Corps, we had a required course on Paternity and Telepaths.  Stupid course, as the main idea behind it was to push the idea that we should all go out and procreate to our hearts content.  But part of the course had been a discussion on how as a Telepath; one should be in mental contact with the child from the day of conception if possible.  The womb was warm and comforting for the unborn, and then was the best time to establish the parent-child relationship to help prepare it for the trauma of its birth.

I wished Matt were there with me, so our child could also sense his love.  I wore his shirt constantly, noting that I couldn’t button it, but I could wear it as an over shirt for a little bit longer. That made me a little nervous, as how much bigger was I going to get? I wasn’t expecting to be showing quite this much this early in my pregnancy, but the scanners said I was in the acceptable weight curve.   The sweater stretched a little better over my expanding frame, so I wore it on the cool nights when I walked about the lake, desiring a chance to explore and to think.

I really should have called Sarah, the minute I found out that I was pregnant, but a quiet voice had suggested that there would be plenty of time to call her later on, and for now I should enjoy these private moments with our child. I’d call her next month… or maybe later.  According to the scanners, everything was going along like it should be, just like clockwork.

Perhaps, it was the loneliness of being completely on my own, but I found myself thinking a lot about the baby, and Matthew.  It wasn’t a bad thing, until I suddenly came up with a horrible thought. It was an old familiar thought that appeared again, and this time, I couldn’t stop thinking it.   Fortunately, I was shielding my mind from our child when I began to believe it, as it would have traumatized the Bumpster. Maybe…  Matthew hadn’t really been there; maybe instead, in my madness and grief, I had created… him.

Oh shit.

Maybe he had been a personality split, one which I had created so I could face life without him. If anyone ever found out, they’d take our baby away from me, as I was an mentally unstable ‘Path.

No. I wasn’t crazy.

I wasn’t.


I couldn’t handle losing someone else that I loved. First my family had been ripped from me, and then it had taken years for me to trust enough to love again.  Now, he too, was gone, and all I had left was what was growing underneath my heart.  I loved our child so much that I’d never let anyone take it away from me.


Those lonely days found me concentrating on sending as much of my love as I could to my child, for if THEY succeeded, perhaps there would remain a faint trace of a memory of a parent’s love. I love you so much, and if Matthew were here, he’d love you too.


John, calm down.  You’re getting upset. Take a deep breath. Calm down. One…. Two… Three…

This is madness!


I'm pregnant, for the love of GOD!

I'm doing this by myself... No... I'm doing this with a ghost seducing me each and every night while making little comments about my Buddha belly.  God, if this was madness, let me stay this way for at least I don't feel lost and alone.

I'm happy, I am.


They’d separate us if they knew!

No, please, I couldn’t live without you if they separated us. I love you, I love you, please don't forget that... even if they separate us. I do love you.

That was the thought I was concentrating on, when I felt him return.  For a moment, I tasted fear, and Matt caught it.


[You’re not here. I’m making you up, aren’t I? I’m losing my mind, and then they’ll take the baby from me.  For my own good, they’ll say, so I won’t hurt it. I couldn’t live with that. You’re not real. You’re not real! You’re dead. DEAD! Why are you haunting me?]

Matt talked to me for hours, trying to calm me down while I shook in terror. Finally, I believed that it really was Matthew Gideon, and that I wasn’t crazy.

You’re not crazy, John. You’re pregnant, but not crazy.

It had taken far too long to talk with Sarah, especially since I gotten lost somewhere getting back and John had been left alone with his self-doubts.  When I returned, I found him huddled in bed, mentally vowing that he wouldn’t let anyone take our child away from him.   He was repeating it over and over again, and had succeeded in working himself into a state of near paranoia.

What happened? You were doing so well, John. Now you were curled up under blankets, worried that someone or something would take our child from you and muttering that you weren’t ever going to let that happen.


I left you alone, and your self-doubts and your depression threatened to overwhelm you.   Damn it, John. You need to talk with real people. Not just the dead, and the unborn.

It had taken me hours to calm him down, as he had worked himself into an absolute frenzy.  No one would take our child away from him, as John wasn’t crazy. He was just entirely too isolated for someone in his condition.

Call Sarah, please?

“No.” His voice sounded rough as though he hadn’t been using it in a while, and I mentally vowed that I’d make him start talking again. “Not yet.  I don’t want to share this with anyone yet. Wrong people find out, and it’ll be in the tabloids. ‘First Teep EF Captain carries dead hero’s love child’.”  John started curling up into the fetal position, and my heart froze. No, John, don’t do that.  I had pushed him into that position one time, when I had savagely argued with him about his supposed death wish, and it had taken me two hours of reassurances for him to relax out of that position.

How about me? You were planning on sharing it with me, right?  I tried to keep my tone light and teasing, so John wouldn’t know how deeply concerned I was about him.

John was still shaking, and I cursed myself.  Since he had shared my death, his soul was full of death, and he just couldn’t find his way clear of it. This was my fault, as my weakness in the last few days of my life had made me accept his love gratefully, without thinking things out completely.  I should have realized that our relationship would have gotten very intense, very quickly, and that John would be devastated by my death.  I should have turned him down, carefully for it would have been far better for John to have never been affected like this. My fault, completely, for the hell that John was going through.


Yes- what? I prompted him.

“Yes, I want to share this… with you,” He stressed that, “And only you, right now.”

That’s not a good idea, John.  He flinched, and I mentally grimaced. Time to tap dance, Matt.   Aren’t you going to tell our friends about this?

“Not now. Later.”

You should tell them about it, because if you don’t… the poor kid is going to be born, and they’re not going to have bought the Bumpster a single, solitary item. Considering how much I’ve shelled out on the Chamber-Eilerson brood, I’d like to think that Sarah and Max should fork the credits over also.  I know you’ve spent a lot of your paychecks on their children, so it’s time for payback.  Trying to be light and whimsical, I succeeded in calming John down.

“You’re right.”

Excellent. Now, lie on your side, so we can get some sleep. I love you. I’d never hurt you, believe me.  Quietly, I vowed that I HAD to get in touch with Sarah again.

John was busy focusing inward again, and I mentally smiled.  I had just gotten back from another trip to sew another thought in Sarah’s receptive mind, and John was busy communing with our unborn child. At five months, he was plumping up very nicely with a rounding belly and swelling breasts. I had to admit though, that if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that he was further along because of the size of his tummy.

John was sending his usual thoughts of how much he loved and wanted our child, when suddenly I heard something.  Normally the response was not that much, a few stray baby thoughts of contentment and peace, but today it was different.  Today I felt the baby move under John’s hand, as it sent a thought of how much love it had for John.

Ok, it didn’t come right out and say, “I love you, DAD.” But instead I sensed thoughts of how it loved the voices that shared the darkness with it, constantly reassuring it of being loved and being wanted.

VOICES. That meant the kid loved me too! This dad thing was GREAT!   Suddenly, I realized that perhaps I shouldn’t be so wrapped up with my impending fatherhood that I forgot Papa John.  This obviously emotionally affected Papa John, as he trying not to cry.  Since the day of the funeral, John hadn’t cried, and now he fighting back the tears, while he promised our child that nobody would ever separate us.

I don’t think that was the healthiest thing John was promising. Later, I’d remind John about college, and the fact that one day, our child was going to grow up and become a Starship Captain.

With its genetics, do you honestly think it wouldn’t be a natural for the job?

My heart was thawing slightly, as I slowly healed from my grief, when suddenly our child responded to me.  Matthew’s and my child ‘loved’ the two of us, and I suddenly had a trace of fear.  For suddenly I remembered a young child who had loved his parents so very much, and who had been taken away by the Corp for evaluation and training.  My heart thawed completely in my fear of losing someone I loved, again.

NEVER, I promised again, would I allow anyone to separate us.  That was the day I began target practice in earnest. If anyone came, I’d be ready for him or her, and they’d find out that there would be a significant price to pay.

I didn’t tell Matthew of my fears. He wasn’t a Teep, he just didn’t understand what would happen if anyone ever found out about him.  They’d take the child from me, and how could I live with that guilt? Knowing that our child would be taken from parents that loved and wanted it, just because…

I wasn’t.


I’d have to try harder, as Matthew would be so angry if that happened, and it would be my fault for not being stronger. He'd probably be so furious that he'd leave...

And I knew that if I lost both Matthew and our child that I'd really go insane.

“I tried to get a hold of John.  I know he said he was on a planetside mission, and he would be off the ship, but I tried to contact him through Earth Force. It took a few weeks, but I finally got someone to tell me where he is, or in this case, where he isn’t. Do you know what they told me?”

My wife sounded concerned, so I focused my complete attention on her. “No, Sarah. What did they say?”

“He’s RETIRED. Max, RETIRED. They have no fucking idea where he is, and they’re directly depositing his retirement checks into an account on Mars which he hasn't touched yet.”

“WHAT?” John had retired? He hadn’t mentioned a damn thing to me about it.  I was always joking with him about offering him a real job when John left EF and he had promised that he’d get in touch with me the day he decided to quit.

“John retired a few weeks ago.  Did he mention it to you?”  From her tone of voice, John hadn’t shared his plan with her.


She began pacing back and forth, and I watched her.  “Remember that night that Jaia swore she saw Matt in her bedroom?”

“Yes. I finally convinced her that Matt was just looking in on her, and that he didn’t mean to scare her. She believes that Matt’s her guardian angel.”

“I didn’t mention this to you, but I think I felt Gideon in my mind while you were talking to Jaia.  There’s this feeling that he was trying to tell me something.”

“What was he telling you?” I tried to be non-judgmental, which I think Sarah appreciated.

“That we needed to keep an eye on John. So, it’s been almost six weeks since what happened, and today, I find out that John’s been retired for almost six weeks.  Do you think I had a… visitation?”

I thought hard.  Through my adventures in the Excalibur, I knew that life was far stranger than I could ever imagine, and Sarah wasn’t one to make up stories. If she believed something, then she adhered to it.  “How about contacting Galen and Dureena? It might be a good idea, if we took a group vacation to locate John Matheson. The kids are away at boarding school, so we can take as long as we need to for this, since I retired from IPX. Something tells me that this might be important.”


John was talking out loud again, usually in monosyllables, but at least it was a start. After my last disappearance, John had regressed back to the point where he just wasn’t talking. Instead, he’d ‘path to me and the child, and I had to convince him to talk out loud to me.

There was something that was eating at his soul, and he wouldn’t share it with me.  He guarded the secret zealously, but I knew there was something was really bothering him. Trying to ease his soul, I spent hours talking to him about anything that came to mind, and reassuring that I wasn’t angry with him.

He was lying on his side in bed, and I was using his hand to stroke his burgeoning belly and to play with his nipples.  At six months, his pregnancy was now fully apparent, in his big stomach and his rather swollen breasts and I delighted in teasing him whenever I thought that his maternity… paternity? clothes were getting too tight.  At this rate, John would be soon forced to run around completely naked, and I teased him with that delightful thought.  I even sent him a mental picture of a naked John with a very big belly doing that, and I could feel that John wasn’t too thrilled with my idea.

[I am not going to be a Double D cup, Matthew!] John was scandalized at that thought while I gently moved his hands to cup his breasts. [I’m barely an “B” cup right now.]

I had a little bit more experience with measuring breasts that John did, apparently, as I thought he was close to a C now. Yes, after adjusting for the fact that John’s hands were slightly smaller than mine had been in real life, I decided that John was definitely a C cup.  Gently, I made his fingers tease and taunt his exert nipples, and I delighted in the fact that I could feel shivers down John’s backbone.

It’ll be great. Whenever I want you, you won’t even have to get undressed. You’ll be ready and willing at all times for me.  It’ll make things easier for you, as your sex drive has gone into overdrive since you conceived.  Mentally, I sent him the thought of me nuzzling his aching breasts, and I felt John really begin to respond.  Poor John, pregnant and horny.

His belly moved wildly, and I suddenly stopped what I was doing to admire it and the response that I had caused slightly further down. Then I started realizing that there appeared to be an awful lot of movement tonight.  Let’s see… if that was a foot, that a hand, then apparently the kid had a few extra body parts.

Yes? Are you sure we’re only having one kid? There’s a lot of movement going on inside of you tonight. Very active. I think you need to stop wearing those blue sweatpants of yours, and move up a size.  You're getting too expanded in the equator region to wear them anymore.

[Not yet. I still have some room left. As for how many, I don’t know, as I can’t sense anything very distinctly with Bumpy. But Matthew?]

Yes? But come on, John; talk out loud for me. I love to hear you talk out loud.

“Do you think.. I’m cracking up?”

No! NO!

My emphatic assurance seemed to calm him, and I decided to continue to stroke his body.

John; you are not insane. I’m really here. Don’t know how or why, but I am.

 Now, just a little lower, below his turgid abdomen, I deliberately began fondling a rather neglected portion of his body, and I felt John begin to gasp in delight.


You’re still thinking enough to be worried? I’ve got to work harder then. I’d hope by now that my seductions were a little more mind distracting.

“You’re not planning on leaving… just yet?”

Not until Bumpy arrives. I vowed, and John seemed to relax.  Right now, I didn’t want to mention to him that I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be here, as each time I returned to the Twilight Zone, the stars were fading.

“Good. I was… worried… that you’d leave….” [I’d be alone…. Again.]

The only thing you have to worry about, is if you’re not enjoying what I’m doing to you.

“You’re worried about John?” Dureena asked.

“Yes. It’s been almost three months since he retired, and we can’t seem to locate him.”  Sarah admitted that quietly. “We figured that you two would have a better idea of how to find him.”

“What makes you think that John wants to be found?” I asked that, which caused everyone to look at me in askance. “When Isabelle died, I went into seclusion. Why shouldn’t John do the same thing? He cared deeply for Matthew.  Maybe he needs the time to regroup.”

“You’re going to think this is silly, but I think Matthew reached out to me.” Her voice plainly thought that she expected us to think she was crazy.  “About three months ago, right about the time that John left EF, Jaia had a nightmare, in which she thought she saw Matt in her bedroom.  Then I had this feeling, like Matthew was with me and that he desperately wanted me to keep an eye on John. I tried to contact John, and his old Executive Officer wouldn’t tell me anything because John had asked her not to say anything.  I used a few contacts in EF, and I found out that John had retired. I couldn’t locate him, so that’s why we contacted you two free spirits.”

“Sarah, among my people, it said that the spirits of the dead cannot rest if they have left a soul debt unpaid.  That they are tied to the physical realm, doomed to walk the earth, not knowing peace, until the promise have been filled.”  Dureena’s voice was low.  “Perhaps, Matthew’s spirit reached out to you, as he knew that you were close to John.  If it is Matthew, then we must help him because he wants us to help John.”

“I don’t know about spirits and the afterlife.” Maximilian drawled, earning a disgusted look from Dureena.  “But I am concerned about our favorite Telepath.  It’s been over six months since Matthew died, and I wonder how he’s coping.”

“Very well, then.  Shall we go?”  I smiled sweetly at them.

“We’re packed, we were just waiting for that magic craft of yours to show up.”  Sarah’s smile had a faint tint of embarrassment in it.

I gave a mock sigh.  “Am I getting that predictable in my old age?”

My body was protesting loudly right now.  My back hurt, my feet I hadn’t seen in a while, my stomach was objecting and my breasts were leaking. I had been up all night as my legs had been in spasms and cramping wildly and they still ached. Meanwhile, I would kill to be able to take a deep breath; the best I could do anymore was to breathe shallowly as Bumpy was lying right on my diaphragm.  But the worse part, were my breasts.  Matt was right,  I was definitely a D cup. Shit, Sarah. You told me that they’d be swollen and sore, but not that I’d need a fucking bra. I wasn’t planning on breast feeding the kids and Mother Nature didn’t have to go so overboard with the milk factories.

That was just so fucking not right.

Shit. Breasts. How the hell did Sarah and Dureena manage to get anything accomplished with them getting in the way all the damn time? I had always enjoyed playing with their breasts, but now, I didn’t want to see another set of them in my life. Especially if they were my own.  My nipples had enlarged and darkened, and Matthew had really enjoyed playing with them every damn chance he got.

Which he hadn’t done in a while, as I was just too bloody unappealing.  I couldn’t blame him, as my stomach had steadily ripened and rounded until now it looked like a volcano about to explode.   And I was barely in the last trimester, which meant that I’d be only getting so much bigger before I could see my feet again.  Sometimes, when I was walking, I’d catch a glimpse of my reflection in a mirror, and I’d be horrified.  All I could see was my prodigious and tremendous belly and my fucking breasts.  Some women glowed serenely when they were pregnant, not me, instead, I looked like a walking belly on stilt like legs.

I felt colossal as I just had gone up to a double extra large pair of sweat pants with ten more weeks to go, and Matthew hadn’t made love with The Elephant Man in a while. If I continued at my current rate of global expansion, I’d be forced to into just wearing that one robe within the next three weeks.  After that, I have to wear a sheet or something, as I hadn’t ordered anything larger.   Meanwhile Bumpy and Bumper were kicking up a storm.  I had the feeling that I was the hide of a drum with Bumpy kicking in a syncopated rhythm that Bumper was two beats behind.  Oh, and I really had to pee. BAD. Fortunately I was standing up, so I could trot… waddle off to the bathroom fast enough to prevent an accident.

Bumpy. Bumper.   Matthew had been delighted when he sensed two distinct personas during one of our times of communing with our children.   I had thought of the possibility a while back, but I hadn’t been one hundred percent sure until Matthew had confirmed it.   TWINS. I was having twins, at least, and I was concerned that my blowing the weight curve for singles, probably foretold of a potential for triplets or even more. There was a discordant echo… of sorts in the back when Matt and I bonded with the kids. Originally, I hadn’t wanted to know the number and sex of the baby because I had wanted to be surprised. Now, I was just frightened of the finding out I was carrying quints.

To be on the safe side, I had ordered two more of everything, which apparently amused Matt to no end. Especially since I was over seven months by now, and I was trying to assemble the cribs. That was a nightmare as the damn stomach kept getting in the way, and I couldn’t bend that well anymore.   Yeah, funny, all right. Let’s see you in this position, Matt. I would have laughed my ass off to see you knocked up and trying to assemble a crib.  Bet you wouldn’t have liked it, I thought darkly, even though the thought of a really pregnant Matthew Gideon made my mood improve… for about two seconds.

I wouldn’t have laughed at Matt. No, instead, I would have tried to cheer him up, and yes, I would have made love with him regularly.  I really didn’t blame him for not wanting me, I mean, I had turned into the fertile-earth-mother-goddess of fecundity right now complete with gravid belly which made any position awkward and uncomfortable for both of us. But, Matt, I really wouldn’t have minded making the effort. You hadn’t made love with me in several weeks, and I really missed that. Every time, before I went to bed, you’d massage my back and I’d hope for more, but it never progressed further than that.

Then the brats kicked AGAIN. HARD.

[Can you please calm down!] I sent that to Bumpy and Bumper.  Reassurances and love were fine things to ‘path to your unborn children, but I hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in about two weeks. Therefore my mental tone wasn’t as chipper as it should have been. Bumpy and Bumper both kicked hard, and then stopped, as though frightened of my tone.

Sorry kids, Papa John is a little tired right now. He didn’t mean to be cranky and scare you.

Matt’s mental tone was nonchalant and buoyant, not a care in the world as he wasn’t carrying twins destined to be football players from birth. For a moment I really hated Matthew with a passion that surprised me.   I tried to suppress that thought but Matt sensed it.

John? You ok?

I ignored him, as I was busy peeing.  It had taken me a few moments to find the necessary equipment as a rather prominent belly was covering it.  It was getting awkward to stand, as I was feeling off balance if I moved too quickly. I went one way while the bowling ball in my belly went in another direction and those damn breasts went in yet another direction.  How much larger was I going to get?

Just fucking call me Captain Gideon’s white whale, Moby Belly, ok?

John? Are you ok?

“Yes…  No.”   I washed my hands carefully, and I could feel Matt wasn’t happy with that answer.

John? Come on, talk to me.

I didn’t answer him, as I was lumbering off to bed, about as graceful as a sloth on tranquilizers.   Crawling into bed, I watched as my belly moved under its own volition, as though at any moment, life sucking space aliens would come bursting out of my body. I rolled over onto my side, and I felt the babies shift into the new position. They kicked to express their disgust with the change in their elevation, and I suddenly felt like weeping in frustration. Parasites! That’s what they were, sucking the life out of me, the ingrates.  They’d get bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger and….


His tone upset the little freeloading bloodsuckers, so they started kicking hard again.I winced in pain, especially when the two brats started a fistfight, while the rest of the multitudes of the unborn were having a soccer match, complete with goalies and cheerleaders.  They really didn’t have to hit the goal that hard, especially since the goals were apparently my rib cage.

Clutching a pillow tightly, my mental silence was apparently scaring Matt as I wasn’t sharing my feelings with him. Honestly, I wasn’t ignoring him; I was doing a kick count.  Thirty-eight strong kicks in ten minutes.

Stop. PLEASE? I’m begging you.

John? Matt’s voice was hesitant as though he realized that my nerves were stretched.  You’re tired. Go to sleep.

“Can’t. They won’t let me sleep. I’m just really uncomfortable in any position right now.”  Heh! What a joker I was!  This belly allowed me to rest on my side, which was it. Positions? HEH! POSITION!

Talk to me. What’s bothering you? Feeling overwhelmed are you?

I nodded my head, and I could feel Matt’s reassuring touch on my shattered psyche.

You’ll be a great dad. Don’t worry, you’ll do fine.  Count on your friends to help you out during this. Sarah, Dureena and the rest of them, they’ll gladly help you so please don’t shut them out.  You’re tired, John, you’ve been so busy taking care of everything that you’ve been ignoring your needs, so don’t worry if the damn cribs don’t get set up.  If the bumpy duo share a crib for the first few weeks, I don’t think it’s that bad. John, they’ve shared the womb for this long, so maybe a few more weeks together isn’t such a bad idea, despite what those crystals says.

Closing my eyes, I felt Matt mentally beginning to stroke my back, and I relaxed slowly.  His hands were gentle, and I felt tingles running through my body while I suddenly wished that he wasn’t so sexually repulsed by ‘The Belly that Ate Earth.’

You’ve been neglecting yourself. You need to sleep, and you need the chance to love, John.

“Haven’t felt you in a while.” My voice didn’t sound as forlorn as I felt, I hoped.

You’ve been so exhausted lately; that I didn’t think you’d be interested. Why? Were you worried that I didn’t find you attractive anymore?


Excuse me, we married until death do us part? I came back from the dead to keep an eye on you. Do you think the facts that you’re retaining water, your ankles are puffed up, your breasts are swollen, and your belly is bulging makes you less attractive to me?

I didn’t answer him, so Matt sighed as he realized that my answer was a resounding “YES.”

Actually, I find your new figure an absolute turn on.  I want nothing more than to get those babies of ours kicking like crazy because your climax woke them up from a sound sleep.  Do you want to know what I really want to do with those swollen, painful nipples of yours?


This. Matthew sent me a rather erotic picture, and I found myself smiling slightly.   Me, lying on my side on the conference room desk on the old trusty Excalibur, while Matt suckled and teased various parts of me.

“Do you think we can do that on my side?” Asking that hopefully, I found myself longing that Matt would want to try it.

Let’s give it the old EF try, shall we?  

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