The Aftermath of Getting Away With Murder

All I Need Is You

Two months of marriage. Two months of pregnancy. It was September fourth, now, the day after their two-month-wedding-anniversary, and Pip decided that she and Luna could throw one final party before going baby-mode.

"You can't drink," Ravi had told her, voice quivering.

"I know, love. I wouldn't do that to you. To us," she said softly, her hands on her stomach.

"Promise?"

"Promise." Pip laughed, a quiet giggle, as she smiled up at him and pressed her lips to his before shrinking back, resting on the couch as Luna typed away on her phone.

When Luna finally got off the couch, finished texting half the school about their party, she announced that she was going to buy "essentials". Beer and snacks, in other words.

Which meant Pip and Ravi had the house to themselves for at least an hour.

They watched Luna leave, Ravi locking the door behind her as Pip shrugged off the sweater she was wearing to protect her from the early September chill.

He pulled her close, hands gripping her hips, and laughed against her lips as he connected his to hers.

"This is okay, right? It won't hurt the baby?"

"No, Ravi, it won't. A little skin-to-skin won't hurt something that's the size of an olive."

"Okay, I'm just making sure," he told her as he connected their lips again, laughing softly once more as he lifted her and carried her to her bedroom.

Her hands found his hair as he laid her against her duvet, and his hands roamed her chest before he moved to unbuckle his belt, lowering his lips to hers once more.

—

Had she really let it come to this?

Pip was sat outside of her own dorm because the party was too loud. Did pregnancy come with sensitive ears?

Either way, she had slipped outside, unnoticed by Ravi, and was sat in the hallway with her knees to her chest.

Her head was spinning, a wave of nausea washing over her. She knew this was a bad idea. This party.

It couldn't be good for her. For the baby. Just the smell of beer was making her ill, and she needed to get away from her dorm. This last party? It shouldn't have happened. She shouldn't have let Luna convince her.

God.

She sighed, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Ravi's number - stupid, he was inside. Just on the other side of her door.

But still, the held the phone to her ear as her head pounded, and Ravi picked up after the first ring.

"Sarge, where are you?"

"Hallway. I don't feel well. I...can we go to your place? I really don't feel well."

"Okay, I'll be right there; stay put, Trouble."

And on the other side, the line went dead.

It felt both like seconds and hours before Ravi was helping her walk to his car, buckling her seatbelt for her and kissing her forehead.

"Okay, Pipsicle, what's up? Pregnancy-sickness or party-sickness?"

"Both. God, my head is pounding."

"What's bothering you? You're tense."

She coughed once, twice, and rolled down the window as Ravi started the car.

"Remember the...um, how I was sort of being threatened earlier this year?"