As Sierra's pregnancy progresses, she starts thinking over her options as the inevitable birth approaches.

Part 2 of my story for  geckoguy123456789 about his red fox girl Sierra! This was probably one of the more fun sections for me to write.

If you comment, I'll kiss your face.
Mwah.
I love you.
Enjoy!

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So...this is a little harder than I thought.

There's been a lot of luck going around the past few months. Some of it bad, some of it good. I guess what's important is, well, I'm doing it! It's been about five or six months since Josh left and I get the feeling I'm doing better without him than with him. It's mostly that, a few weeks ago, I finally got the big lucky break I'd been hoping for and actually got hired out of my internship! I know it's what's technically supposed to happen, but no one I know actually any success with that kind of thing. I'm still pretty bottom-rung here, mostly working the front desk and doing some easy filing and data management stuff, but I still get in a lot of time drawing and designing. Hell, at least I'm getting paid for it, now. The truth is, they know I can do more, but I don't think my bosses really know what to do with me right now.

So, the other thing. Yeah, I'm pregnant. I'm really pregnant. I'm, like, camped out in the bathroom for two hours level of pregnant. I'm not exactly a big girl, but baby doesn't seem to care about that either. I've got maybe two or three more months left, but this belly I'm rocking looks more like I've got two or three more hours. And yeah, not stomach. Belly. You can't really call it anything else.

So I've just been shuffling around the office in clothes I still pretend fit me because I can't afford to spend too much on maternity wear. Everyone knows I'm by myself, too. It spread pretty fast and I get more sympathy from it than I expected. Lots of looks of sympathy, comforting belly pats and rubs (which shouldn't feel as good as they do, but damn), old and extra baby clothes. That last one won't really be helping me out so much, since I don't plan on keeping her, but it's the thought that counts.

Oh, right. Yeah. Her. I found a really nice free clinic not a far train ride from the apartment. I've been there...twice? Maybe three times? God, I didn't even know 'baby brain' was a thing until now. I'm always forgetting what I'm talking about halfway through a conversation, walking into rooms and not remembering why I'm there, stuff like that. Right...so...the free clinic. They've got a basic doctor's care there for pregnant women to get their babies checked out, so I was able to find out the gender. Everything's going fine on that front; I'm trying to stay as healthy as I can manage on my budget, but...well, the pup is probably doing better than I am.

Did I mention she was huge? The doctor told me that a healthy pup at my trimester should be about three or four pounds. The pup is six. And I'll be damned if she isn't getting use out of every bit of that space inside me. Wolves like us tend to be nocturnal, but good god, the jumping and kicking and squirming at four in the morning is killing me. I was interested to see what the baby moving would feel like, but now I can't wait for it to stop. Marcus will cover the front if I need to slip off to the bathroom for a few minutes to try and pee for the thousandth time that day, or even cry inexplicably, because that just happens sometimes.

So like I said. It's not easy.

I came home from work at about 9, as dead exhausted as I'd ever been. I carried a coat with me, but the little space heater inside was doing most of the work for it. I kind of dropped everything I was carrying to the ground, knowing I'd have a hell of a time picking it up later, but I didn't really care. I popped open the buttons on my work shirt before they'd decide to do it for me, exposing my belly out into the open air. I sighed in relief, scratching the stretched skin under my fur and pulling down the donated belly band to let it breathe. The pup kicked out under my hand as I did, feeling a little poke against my thumb. I smiled. It was still cute.

I unbuttoned my pants and let them fall around my ankles before I kicked them into a corner. My apartment, my rules. I waddled my big ass over to the couch and collapsed into it, laying both of my hands over my belly and sighing again. Every day felt like walking a very slow marathon with a very annoying cheerleader following along.

I had moved my laptop into the living room, since I wanted my bed to be perfectly open for me to flop into at the end of the day. Settling back into the seat, I shoved one of the little pillows behind my sore back and kicked my paws up onto the coffee table. My laptop was barely too heavy to pick up with one hand, but I still managed to pull it up and set it on top of my belly. The only benefit of its size was that my computer reached eye-level pretty easily. Yaaaay.

I frowned as it booted back up. I intended to go check work emails I didn't get a chance to on the subway, but I forgot I'd left open the page for the adoption service from this morning. I had finally worked up the courage to register a profile (I thought my username RedRover was pretty clever), but I didn't have the time to add anything else. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to quite yet. Looking at the site made my fur stand up a little. The whole thing was uncomfortable, but I wasn't sure why. More than likely, I was just scared at the approaching inevitability of the birth, something I very much wasn't looking forward to. But, I guess like the birth itself, looking up adoptive parents was something that had to happen, one way or another.

I sighed, scratching the quickly warming underside of my belly with a small, inside squirm in response. I patted myself, massaging the tight and sensitive skin with two fingers.

“You okay in there, puppy?” I said out loud. When home alone, I had a habit to chatting to the baby like a pet or something. It was relaxing in its own way, and I'm sure the pup himself was enjoying the stimulation. “Of course you are. You're better off than I am out here. About the only thing I've got going for me is consistent subway seats. Nobody wants to be the jerk making a pregnant lady stand, after all. I'm not complaining.” I smiled as a little foot pushed out against my fingers. So close, and yet so far.

Pulling back my hand, I logged into the adoption site and started curiously browsing some of the local couples that posted an ad within the last few months. I had been putting it off for a while, to be honest. It was cool, kind of a cross between a dating site and not-as-creepy-Craigslist. It had a list of couples, some of them with a couple kids already, who were looking to adopt. You could search by species, if you wanted to, but the problem is that the couples could do that as well. So I'd have to sort couples by those who specifically wanted a canine pup, and then narrow it down further by choosing from ones okay with a mixed-breed. I don't know what kind of hormones I had firing off, but I was livid. My pup was just as good as any pure-breed I didn't give a damn who thought otherwise.

“He seems cute enough,” I said to the pup, scrolling down to a canine couple living in Long Island. “But I don't like the look in her eye. Strikes me as kind of controlling, yknow? The whole thing was probably her idea.”

I cleared my throat and thumped my chest. I still had heartburn from a gyro I bought on an impulse craving on the way home. The vomiting stopped long ago, thank god. Once the first-trimester morning sickness passed, the pregnancy by itself was easier than I thought it would be, almost pleasant. Sometimes I felt like a very big water balloon, of course, but it was fun watching and feeling myself grow along side the pup, who got more and more feisty as the months went on. It was cute.

“Cat couple,” I said, scrolling past without checking any details. “No way. They won't know the first thing about taking care of you. Maybe, like, a calmer breed, maybe, but you're half-wolf. You're gonna be wild.” A sudden flurry of small kicks poked out on the right of my belly. I smiled, rubbing the spot. “Hell yeah, you know what I mean.”

I kept scrolling, rattling off instant reasons why they would suck at raising my pup.
“These two look nice enough, but I've heard that's a pretty nasty part of Brooklyn. They should probably get out of there before thinking about kids.”
“Ew. These two look really yuppie. They'll probably try to bottle feed you with coconut water or something.”
“Six. This couple already have six adopted kids! What are they doing, collecting them? Gross.”
“How old are they? These two look like they'd break a hip trying to potty-train you.”
“Hipsters. Enough said. You'll thank me when you're older.”

“Maybe I'll just drop you off with some nuns on a mountain somewhere.” Almost immediately, the pup squirmed and began to turn over, uncomfortably deforming my belly and nearly throwing off the laptop. “I'm kidding!” I said, setting aside the computer to rub my stomach soothingly. “I'm kidding I'm kidding, I'm just kidding, baby. We're gonna find you the perfect parents, okay? Just be patient.” I paused, thinking about the impending birth. “Just go ahead and be really patient.”

I rolled over like a hippo, trying to reach where I had set the laptop, when I turned my ear to the kitchen at the sound of a soft, music tone. I groaned at my phone ringing, having only just gotten comfortable. Setting my paws on the floor, I braced against the armrest and cradled my belly while pushing myself up to stand. I waddled uncomfortably into the kitchen and managed to grab the phone a moment before the call went to voicemail. I answered before having a chance to look at the caller ID.

“Hello?”
“Gooooooooood morning!” squealed my older sister over the line. It'd been months since we spoke, but her voice was as part of me as my own bones.

“It's...Maria, it's almost ten over here. PM. You know that, right?”
“Well it's morning here, so it's morning to me. Good morning, Sierra!”
“Good morning, Maria,” I droned, rolling my eyes but smiling at the same time.
“That's more like it! Really, this is the only time of day we're both gonna be awake at once, yknow? When else am I supposed to call?”
“With all the work I've been doing, you're lucky I'm not passed out by now.”

“Then we should take advantage of that, right?!” Maria said, cheerily. “How are you!? How've you been? How's New York?”
“I've been...busy. Really busy. Not in a bad way, though. I'm learning a lot.” I paused, before adding “At the company.”

“I'm really glad to hear that....I just logged onto Facebook for the first time in a while. Josh posted something about you two breaking up? I hope...do you wanna talk about it?”

“I mean...Sure, but...” I drummed the fingers of my free hand atop my bump. “It's been, like, six or seven months since then.”
There was a pause over the line before Maria nearly screamed my ear off.
“Oh my God! Oh my God, it's been that long? And you're still in- Oh my God, Sierra, I'm so stupid. I should have checked before, or...” There was another pause before her demeanor changed. “Or you should have told me! Are you kidding me?! You didn't even call to talk? This is a big deal!”

“Maria, don't blow out the microphone!” I said, barking into the phone myself. I sighed, carrying the phone with me back to my seat on the couch. “But...Yeah, Josh dumped me and went back home a while ago. He was a big asshole about it, but... the more I think about it, I'm glad he's gone.”

“I only met him once, but he didn't really seem all that into you. You're better off without dragging him a long.”
“I agree, totally. The biggest problem is all the...” The pup squirmed inside me, pushing a paw against my rib. “All the 'stuff' he left behind. I was able to pawn most of it for some extra cash. God, that was satisfying.”

“Are you serious? You really did that?” Maria gasped.
“Trust me, he deserved it. He made it abundantly clear he didn't care what happened to his stuff.”
“You break up mean, Sierra,” Maria laughed.
“Trust me, he had it coming.”
“Micky probably would have punched his lights out for you if he'd been there.”
“No need. Josh ran home with his tail between his legs. He hurt himself more than he could me. Did you know that, the night he left, he emptied out the fridge?”

“Wait, he did what?”
“He took all of the food and drinks and beer with him! Like, for a flight home!”
“Why would he even do that?”
“He just wanted to-” I coughed suddenly as the wind was kicked out of me by the pup. He was obviously more hungry than I was. “He just wanted to be on top somehow. I don't know. I still got three hundred bucks for his game stuff, so I call that even.”

“If you say so. Josh sounds like a....” there was a pause on the other line before Maria whispered “an asshole.”

“I think you could go a lot farther than asshole, Maria,” I said, idly rubbing my hand through the ruffled fur of my belly.
“Oh sure, but I've got a little girl hopping around here that doesn't need to hear that kind of language.”
“God forbid she turn out like me or something.” I set the phone down and groaned as I shifted to lying longways on the couch. Setting my head on the armrest, I could no longer see my paws past the horizon of my belly, but I didn't really need to anyway. “I can't believe I haven't even met Marnie yet. I feel like I know her so well already. How old is she?”

“Her fifth birthday is in two months. She wants a dinosaur party and a princess party, so I'm...not sure what I'm going to do about that quite yet.”
“In two months...” I said, glancing down at my own bump as a lump pressed out from underneath it. “I think I'll be busy around then, too.”
“Well I don't expect you to fly around the world just for a visit, do I? Just a Skype call from you would drive her crazy enough.”
“I'd be happy to, obviously.” I paused. “Marie...What's having a baby like?”
“That nest finally starting to feel empty?” Marie laughed.
“Eh. Something like that,” I said, rubbing a soft circle around my belly button. “I mean...birth. What's birth like?”

“It's....” she sighed over the phone. “It's hard to describe. It's easiest to say it's a kind of 'pressure' feeling, but it's a lot more than that. It's not fun, but by the time you've gotten to that point, you're ready. That's it. It's happening. You're ready to meet your baby. So...the birth itself is just awful and agonizing and long, but...seeing that little pup coming out of you is like nothing else. It went from the worst to the best moment of my life the second I saw Marnie's face for the first time. Because you know that...it's you. It's a part of you that you made. A person you brought into the world....” Maria paused, letting the sounds of daytime sounds echo through the phone line. “Sorry, I got kind of carried away. It's just...a good memory for me.”

“No...no, that's okay,” I said, having been looking at my swollen body while she talked. “You...I think you answered my question, anyway.”
“I'm happy to. But I'm sick of talking about me, what about you!?”

Despite how tired I was, Maria and I talked for another hour, maybe even more, before I could bring up the self-control to actually want to hang up. Even then, it took ten minutes of giggling and spitting out last-minute stories before we actually hung up. I sighed as deeply as I could with my uterus up in my lungs, dropping my phone on the floor next the couch, only barely where my fingers could reach it.

After a moment of reflection in the dark, I returned my free hand to my belly like it was drawn there naturally. I massaged my own taut skin and felt the pup inside squirm and twitch from the attention.

“....I want to see your face, too,” I said, talking quietly to her. While laying back, I spread out my legs to either side and imagined what the birth would be like. I even pushed a little, just too try and picture the feeling of pressure, even if it was a fraction of what I'd feel on the big day. I sighed, letting my legs fall back and caressed both hands over my bump in a self-massage.

“...I want to see your face...Your hands...your little paws...” I was talking more to myself now, still running hands over my belly. She squirmed beneath them, kicking out at my palms. “I want to see what color your fur is...I want to see who's eyes you have...I want to hold your hand and rock you to sleep and feed you...And...and I...”

My eyes were straining with tears before I even realized it. I wiped them away, but more replaced them. I let them flow, instead, as they stained my face dark and dripped to the couch. I felt more in tune with my body than I ever had before. My heart was beating heavily somewhere underneath my chest and I could even feel the pup's bouncy little hiccups more strongly. I smiled, remembering how I read online that it was her way of learning how to breath while still in the womb. My womb. My body.

My daughter.

I glanced at the computer I had set on the floor, power light glowing softly. Somewhere online was a parent that would raise, love, protect, cherish, and nurture the child I kept growing inside me. But what if that parent I was looking for...

Was me?

*************************************************************
I woke up early the next morning, naturally, but not as groggy. I laid heavily on my side, limbs strewn around the bed and wearing nothing but my bottoms as a bra against my over-sensitive and filling breasts was torture while I was trying to sleep. I slid a hand between the sheets to caress my bump, as if to make sure it was still there. I smiled sleepily. I thought I would have to resort to pumping my boobs, but I guess they'd get put to use after all.

On its own accord, my tail began to wag underneath the sheets, thumping against the mattress like a metronome. I curled up as best I could into my own fetal position, sort of wrapping myself around my belly. Around my pup. It was the first time in months, too many months, I was happy to be pregnant. I forgot all about Josh and his bullshit, all about the troubles and trials of raising a kid on my own. For a little while, I was just happy being a young woman having a baby.

I got up and padded around the house semi-naked for a bit, just kind of feeling good in my own fur. I made some decaf coffee, partially so I could trick my brain into thinking it was the real thing, but mostly for the smell and the warmth of it. I felt it spread through my limbs, watching the light of the sun rise through the blinds. I leaned back, bracing an arm against my lower back and letting my belly hang free. It felt like a pregnant thing to do and was surprisingly comfortable.

I took a morning shower, something I didn't normally do, paying close cleaning attention to my stomach as my pup woke up and began to stir. I didn't want to waste any time at all treating her like my daughter instead of as my burden, no matter how sore she made my lower back. Feeling more energized than I had in months, I stepped out, toweled off, and shook myself dry for old time's sake. I regretted it as both my stomach and the baby turned over inside me, but I was ok after taking a minute to re-settle both of them.

After putting on the cute, green maternity blouse I found in a Goodwill (just because I worked in fashion didn't mean I could afford the styles I helped sell), I shuffled out into the world confidently, bearing my belly as an achievement, something to be admired. But as I crammed myself into the long morning subway into Manhattan (and was predictably offered a seat), I found new worries creeping up on me like a dark fog rolling in.

The first question was obvious: How the hell was I going to raise this baby? I could barely take care of myself by myself, let alone a newborn pup. I couldn't afford maternity leave for very long. I could hope and pray that the company offered those kinds of benefits, but it came down more to luck than anything else. It came down more to if I could budget, I guess. Mom had raised Maria and I on her own for most of our lives, after all, and we'd been...mostly fine.

Mostly fine, I thought, chuckling darkly as I remembered I was single and pregnant. I wasn't at rock bottom yet, but this wasn't exactly the direction I thought my life would take. At least I still had my designing, no matter what happened. And if I didn't mess up too bad, I'd have a little baby girl, soon. The thought of that seemed to drown out everything else cluttering my head.

I waddled into the office a good twenty minutes earlier than I'd ever shown up. Marcus wasn't at the front desk. In fact, through the glass doors, I didn't really see anybody there. Thankfully, since being officially hired, I was given a magnetic card to open the electronic lock with, so I didn't have to wait like an idiot outside for someone to let me in. I shuffled inside, instinctively moving to re-adjust my shirt front, but finding the blouse fit comfortably and appropriately over my belly. I shrugged. It's the little things that count.

I assumed Marcus was out or had the day off or something, so I simply took over his spot at the front desk. I wasn't sure exactly what needed to be done that morning, since not a single supervisor seemed to be in the office yet. Being this early was weirder than I thought, but I guess the pup felt a little lighter on me after deciding she was mine.

I got back up to find the lower-back pillow I kept in the supply closet and carried back with me the bag of weird snacks I kept above the break room fridge. It was pretty normal snack food, for the most part, but combined with what I liked to call 'craving modifiers' for when things got weird. Tons of packets of hot sauce, some ranch and blue cheese dipping sauce cups, ketchup, mustard, relish, at least a few mayonnaise packets, individually packaged sleeves of cupcake frosting, and the oh-so-precious wrapped dill pickles that baby seemed to love so much.

I set the pillow in the chair, eased down into it myself, and set the back of snacks next to my paws as I resigned myself to a long day of phone duty. I didn't mind, so much. My back would probably snap in half if I was standing or walking for too long, so between that and a sore ass, I'll take the sore ass. Regardless, I still had my sketchbook. It was actually a second one, as the first got filled up with ideas, designs, notes, and chicken-scratch I'm not willing to get rid of quiet yet.

Leaning over, I dug into my purse for the sketchbook, as well as a bag of caramel popcorn. I paused, licking my lips for a moment, before deciding to spray a few packets of Dijon mustard all over the inside. It was a concoction I discovered midway through the second trimester, when my body was telling me to start packing on pounds. It was probably the nastiest thing I just couldn't get enough of and I wasn't about to question why, either.

I squeezed mustard into the open back of popcorn, then shook it around like a maraca to make sure it spread around. With a shallow sigh from my squished lungs, I finally flipped open my sketchbook to the drawing I'd been working on yesterday, with my other hand alternatively hopping between popping mustard-corn into my mouth lazily rubbing small circles over my belly. It was soothing, both for me and the pup, and my blouse felt surprisingly good between my finger and the tight skin beneath it.

The best part of working at Caroline Verduga was the learning experience. The internship itself was far too short. I didn't really start to understand the ebb and flow of fashion and style until I'd been there for months longer, and even then my understanding was a vague, foggy idea compared to Caroline's mastery of trends. I got a chance to see the New York Fashion Week for the first time. Sure, I had to settle as the frumpy, pregnant, intern wolf girl and sit in the back, but I was still there. It was a religious experience. By the time it was over, Caroline Verduga might as well have been the Pope, to me.

My latest sketch was different. Instead of blending styles, I was trying to design a cocktail dress with some of the same design philosophy used in Caroline's work. She had such an amazing way of adding splashes of flair to a simple design while making everything come together. And what attracted me to the Verduga brand in the first place was how wearable it all seemed. For a line that fell under 'high-fashion,' it really looked like the kind of dress you could buy in a boutique off the street and wear home.

The pup suddenly hiccuped while distractingly kicking out against my rubbing hand. I sighed, looking myself over. They weren't the kind of clothes I would be wearing home anytime soon, that was abundantly clear.

...Although...
I turned my attention back to the page, where my rough charcoal sketch of an idea was only barely beginning to unfold. Taking out my sketching pencil, I hovered the its tip over the page while examining the work I had already done, trying to work out practically the image in my head. Setting the tip down, I arced a simple curve between the lower bust-line and directly above the pelvis. I shaded it in likely until it looked like something flush with the rest of the design, then looked it over. With just a single line, the elegant cocktail dress had become a...maternity cocktail dress.

It still didn't look quite right, with the belly having just been tacked on, so I flipped to a blank page and started sketching lines for something that would incorporate the elements more fluidly in its design. As far as I knew, the Caroline Verduga brand didn't have a maternity line. In fact, I didn't know any major labels that did, beyond the mass-market stuff sold in chain stores. It seemed obvious, at least to me. It took me all of one night to get knocked up and I was getting laid way less than a lot of these fashion-folks seemed to be. Wouldn't they want to look their best while sporting a bump?

I know next to nothing about maternity dressmaking, but I was able to sketch out some more designs around the idea. I tapped the edge of the pencil against my muzzle, thinking about the research I'd need to do to get them just right. Baby was fully awake by then and doing some very uncomfortable flips in the little bit of room she had left, but I was able to mostly ignore her while drawing. I looked up from drawing to stretch my hand, finding the office still empty after at least half an hour had passed. The office was usually full and busy by the time I was able to lumber in, so where was everyone?

The question left my mind in a very uncomfortable instant. Have you ever been hit in a game of baseball? Like, hit with the ball? It's something that you kind of expect as a possibility, but you never really think about until after it's already happened. That's similar to what happened to my bladder, but replace the ball with the decaf I drank about three hours ago. It took effort not to snap my pencil in half from the sudden pressure spike. The baby's kick's to the area weren't doing me any favors either. I worried momentarily about leaving the front desk unattended, but this wasn't a regular pee-break, this was an Official Pregnancy Emergency pee-break. Without a moment to spare, I got up with my sketchbook still clutched in hand and waddled like a speed-walker to the bathroom, while incredibly thankful at how empty the office was.

I made it to the toilet stall in a photo finish, with barely enough time to pull my stretchy maternity pants down. I sighed in sweet release, taking as deep breaths and even wagging my tail a little. I'd wet myself at home, once before, and wasn't about to experience that embarrassing nightmare again.

“That's not funny,” I said to the pup as she kicked against my bladder. I finished, feeling momentarily relieved, but didn't stand. I'd learned from experience that it was better to just sit and wait for any aftershocks than to expend the effort to get up, only to come right back. I flipped through my sketchbook, looking over some of my older designs while my body was trying to catch up with itself. The solid shades of black and white were very modern, but my ideas were lacking a severe amount of color. I'd planned to fix that by buying a set of Copics markers to spruce up future drawings. I also needed to practice anatomy and figure drawing in order to build a good build for the dress to rest on.

I made a small 'yipe' sound at the bathroom door being unexpectedly opened, shocking the little remainder of pee out of me. A pair of high-heels clicked across the floor and stopped at the sink before the sound of a running faucet filled the room. I snapped my sketchbook shut and struggled to reach past my belly for my pants.

“Hi, uhm, it's Sierra. I'm sorry I wasn't at the desk, but I really had to... well nobody else was here, so...” I stammered an excuse, not even knowing for sure who I was talking to. Everyone at the office was a step-up from me, either way, so I probably had something to apologize for. Managing to get my pants back on and my belly-band readjusted, I stepped out of the stall.

Finding myself face-to-face with Caroline.

I froze in place, staring at her wide-eyed while she gazed back at me through her hard-rimmed glasses. I hadn't seen her since Fashion Week, and even then through a crowd of other spectators. She hadn't spoken to me since I'd seen her the first time. She wore a steel gray business suit, ending in a small skirt that looked immaculately ironed and smooth, her tail looking similarly groomed. She looked me up and down with a curious look on her face.

“No trouble. We had an access card,” she said curtly as she finished washing her hands. “I remember you. The secretary with the sketchbook. It's Sierra, then?”

“...O-oh...Uh, Y-Yes. Yes, ma'am.” I stammered. She raised an eyebrow, examining me again while lingering on my belly.
“It...certainly has been a while, then,”
“Oh...Oh! Uhh, yeah! Hahaha,” I laid my hands around my stomach and laughed like an idiot. “Y-yeah, I, uh, I got knocked up, I guess! I was, uh, well, I was actually pregnant when you...when I saw you last. But...only like a little bit.” The pup kicked hard against my ribs and I had to resist the urge to tell her to cut it out.

Caroline turned away to dry her hands and turned back with something remarkable: a smile. I blinked. Caroline Verduga was known as a notoriously dry and harsh woman, who very rarely was photographed or even seen smiling. I didn't know what to make of it, seeing a face as famous as hers do something I'd never seen before.
“Congratulations,” she said, approaching. “Are you excited?”
“I...Uh....Kind of?” I scratched behind my ear, nervously laughing again. “I'm...I'm mostly just scared, to be really honest.”
“Ah, so this is probably your first, then” Caroline nodded. She reached a hand out to my stomach before pausing, glancing up. “May I?”

“Uh...Oh my god, of course,” I breathed. I'd withstood too many belly touches from strangers to reject one from Caroline fucking Verduga. She rested her hand against me, gently and delicately, like I was a Faberge egg. My tail kind of spasmed from trying really hard not to wag it. Spreading out her palm, she explored the surface of my belly, stopping when the pup started to squirm beneath her hand. When she kicked out directly under her hand, it breathed a sigh of relief. It was the first time I was proud of my daughter.

“He's energetic,” she said, still smiling. She glanced up at me inquisitively and asked “Is it a he?”
“No it's...a little girl” I said, smiling back. I rubbed my own hands along the sides of my belly. Baby was loving the attention, apparently, as she flipped and jiggled all around my uterus, pushing out visibly beneath the maternity shirt. I couldn't stop myself from wagging anymore. It was such an amazing, intimate moment from one of my idols, someone I never dreamed I'd even get to meet.

“My first was usually very calm around this time of day,” Caroline said. “But my second, my daughter, was a lot like yours. Liked outside attention, never liked to stay still. I still can't keep up with her.”

“Yeah, she's very...excitable,” I said, pausing before continuing. “I...I didn't know you had children.”
“I do. A boy and a girl,” she said, looking up but keeping her hand against my belly while gently massaging it. I don't think she realized she was doing it. “I try to keep them out of the limelight. All that attention isn't a healthy way to raise a child.” She glanced down at her hand, having traveled down to the underside of my stomach, before pulling it back and laughing. “Oh, sorry. Is the father excited, too?”

“I don't...He...” I looked away, smoothing my shirt down before resting my hands on myself. “He...left not long after I discovered I was pregnant. Went back home.” My ears drooped. Saying it again out loud reminded me of the sadness and betrayal Josh left me with. I thought I was over him completely, but...yknow, mood swings. I looked up as Caroline put a hand on my shoulder. Her expression was soft.

“Oh...I'm sorry, Sierra,” she said. “I understand. My children have different fathers, neither of which are in our lives anymore. I know how difficult it can be.”
“Yeah...” I sighed, rubbing my arm. “I've been alright, though. Mostly with my job here to back me up. But it's...it's been hard when you don't have...someone else there to be with...” I blinked feeling wetness on my fur. Sniffing, I rubbed my eyes dry of the sudden tears, embarrassed. “Jesus, I'm sorry. I just get so weepy all of a sudden and I don't even know what's happening and...Ugh...”

“The hormones will drive you crazy,” Caroline said, smiling. She let go of my shoulder and patted my belly one last time. “But it's always worth it, in the end.” Stepping back, she glanced over at my sketchbook, sitting precariously on the edge of the counter. “Is this yours?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, continuing to sniff and wipe my eyes. “It's a new one, though. I filled up the one you saw last time.” Without another word, Carolina picked up the book and began flipping through the pages. She skimmed through them lightly before going back and thumbing through the first pages more deliberately. Her face had returned to the harsh expression she was known for, but something made her seem more thoughtful than anything else.

“You were at Fashion Week this year,” she said, not asking as a question. “These are very reminiscent of our Spring lineup.”
“Y-yeah. It gave me a style to work from, I guess. I really liked the new designs this year.”
“I would have preferred to have done more myself,” Caroline said, without looking up from the sketchbook. “Most of the designs were from guest artists and newcomers. Only a handful were my own work, this time. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth when I don't do enough.” Caroline stopped flipping through pages toward the end of the book. She paused, eyebrow raised. I thought she had simply reached the end, but she glanced between me and my belly and the book.

“...Do we have a maternity line?” she asked, more to herself than me.
“Oh...N-no ma'am,” I stammered. “I, uh...I checked.” I laughed nervously, drumming my fingers against my stomach. “But- But those are just mockups I thought about, yknow? I can't- I can't wear the regular styles right now so...I mean, it thought that...It might be nice to...”

I was cut off by Caroline snapping the book closed with one hand before giving it back to me.
“Maybe we should, then,” she said. “I'll look into it. Frankly, the biggest obstacle to your designing skills is your habit of imitation. Your ideas are solid and fit well with our brand, but they rely too much on meeting tradition. There's not much I can call new, here. We should have some in-house artists that could help you create a more polished portfolio. I'll leave a note about it with Angela.”

“O-oh,” I didn't know what to say other than “Thank you.” I wasn't expecting the criticism. It stung, but I'm happy that she at least payed attention to my work enough to comment.

“You're welcome. You have promise. I'd like to see it develop under our label.” She paused before fishing into her pocket for a silver card case. Flipping it open, she pulled out a glossy business card and stuck it between my fingers. “I'm very busy woman, Sierra, so I don't know where I'll be in the next few months. But whenever it happens, I want you to let me know when your daughter is born. Will you do that for me?”

“...Ah...Absolutely. Of course. I mean, if you aren't...too busy.”
“I won't be,” Caroline said, shaking her head. She gave my belly another quick rub. “For both of your sakes.” Without waiting for a response, she straightened up, turned, and strode out the bathroom door, calling over her shoulder “Take care of yourself.”

I suddenly found myself alone, but it took me a few more seconds to realize it. I was rooted to the floor, posed like a mannequin with Caroline's card still hanging from my grip. The pup was still doing excited somersaults from all the attention she'd gotten. I was still dumbstruck from the whole experience. Slowly, I stuck the card between the pages of my sketchbook and held them both like somebody had just casually handed me the Hope Diamond.

I took a minute to wash my hands, take another breather, then wash my hands again for good measure before pulling down my shirt and skipping back out the bathroom door (at least, as well as I physically could skip). Some of the missing coworkers had filed in while I'd been inside, so the office seemed less bizarrely dead. My heart jumped once I noticed that Caroline was still there, talking to a couple other coordinators next to the front desk. Trying not to butt into the conversation, I quietly shuffled over to my chair, pillow, and snack-bag and sat back down.

“Without any notice at all?” Caroline said, stroking her chin.
“Patricia says she'd been grumbling about leaving for a while, but that was the most they ever got out of her,” said Angela.
“She took most of her designs with her. That might be theft of intellectual property if she drew them up while working under our label,” added in Marcy.
“As long as nothing was actually made from the designs, we wouldn't have a case,” Caroline said. “Either way, we're out a designer.”

My ears twitched.

“Is there anyone from the local office we could spare?” Caroline continued.
“Maybe to Chicago or LA, but I doubt any of the on-staff designers would be willing to move to the opposite side of the planet just to help cover our asses.”
“Everyone working here is already local. We can't get them to just pick up and leave,” Angela said.
“Do they have enough staff already to handle things?” Caroline asked.
“I doubt it. The Sydney office handles most our business for Asia, as well as Australia. And they're already stretched thin.”

“I'll go.”
I stood up as quickly as I could, making sure not to scrape the edge of my belly against the desk. Caroline, Angela, and Marcy stared at me as if I'd just emerged from the floorboards like a ghost. I stared right back, forcing myself not to be nervous.

“I'll go,” I repeated.
“To the Sydney office?” Angela asked, incredulously. “In Australia?”
“Yes.” I was tempted to add 'I know where Sydney is,' but I held my tongue.
“Sierra,” Caroline said, gesturing to my middle. “It's on the other side of the world.”
“I have family in Sydney,” I said. I gestured to my belly as well. “I...I think I'd like to be with family right now.”
“Are you a designer?” Marcy asked. “What do you know about our spring line?”

Before she could finish, I snapped up my sketchbook and handed it out between her and Angela. Marcy took it first, flipping through the pages with Angela at her side, both of them with eyebrows raised. They stopped on the maternity sketches in the back, making double-takes between the book and me. Finally, after glancing at each other, they looked to Caroline for guidance. She paused, folding her arms and casually glancing between the four of us.

“Can you leave within a month?” Caroline asked me.
“I lease by the month at my apartment. I can leave at any time,” I responded, but I quickly realized what she was really talking about. “...Yes, I can. I'll be fine.”
She paused one last time, looking me up and down before staring harshly into my eyes for a long time. I didn't blink. Eventually, Caroline sighed, shrugging.

“Eh. Give her a shot.” She gestured to Angela before moving past the both of them, unsheathing a cigarette from somewhere beneath her coat and pushing through the doors toward the elevators. Angela and Marcy blinked to one another, before turning to me. Angela made a 'meh' sound and shrugged, motioning me to follow as she strode off.
“Fair enough,” she said over her shoulder. “I'll fill you in on the details.”
Pushing back my chair, I waddled after her as fast as I could move my heavy body, my tail wagging into a furious red blur behind me.