15 - Ro

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"Losker...."

"Yes, Roseanne?" came the horse whisper.

"Are you okay?"

Losker gulped, flicked his eyes over to Laura, and then looked back at Ro.  "I fear I may vomit."

"Please don't," Ro pleaded.  "I need at least one alien to have not spewed into the garbage by the end of this pregnancy."

"There is still Malasoa."

Ro gave him a pointed look.

Losker swallowed.  "I shall try."

"Ro! Where are you?"

"Duty calls," Ro muttered.  She rushed over to Laura's bedside.  "What do you need?"

"Frickin' epidural!  Where is it?"

"Losker, how are we doing on that?" Ro called.

"The scientists are not back yet."

Laura blurted out a line of swears.

"Okay," Ro breathed, "just calm—"

"Do not tell me to calm down," Laura demanded.

"Yes.  Right.  Okay.  Losker, tell your friends that Laura is out of water."

He conveyed the information.  An attendant (they refused to be called "nurses") hastily dashed from the room.

"Ro, how dilated am I?"

"Eight centimeters, same as ten minutes ago."  So, so close.  Ro hoped this would speed up.

Laura groaned.

Ro put her head down on the side of the bed and closed her eyes.  Standing in for Mitch was harder than she thought it would be.  Not only was she mostly ignorant to the minuscule details of the childbirth process, but she had been running back and forth across the small room for six hours.  All the frantic shouting to the Lii and getting things for Laura were really tiring her out.

"Roseanne, are you alright?" Losker asked.  At least his anger with her had subsided for now.

She groaned in time with Laura before lifting her head.  She took the glass from Losker's hand and plopped in Laura's straw.

"Here," Ro said.  She placed the straw in Laura's mouth.

Ro watched the Lii in the back of the room, face laced with annoyance.  They were the most unhelpful bunch of aliens she had ever met.  Except Malasoa, and sometimes Losker, of course.  Doctor Malasoa was a linguist for the Asia lab and had written her dissertation about the childbirth process.  Though she didn't speak English, she was very helpful in finding substitutes for certain important devices.

"We have all the supplies, right?" Ro asked Losker.

"You have asked me that twenty-three times."

"Right.  And everyone knows what to do?"

"Thirty-one times."

"And—"

"Forty even."

"Good."

Laura released a low, animalistic shout from her throat (a sound that she promised was healthier than high-pitched screaming).  Many of the attendants jumped and a few squeaked.  Losker fidgeted, keeping his eyes carefully averted from the spot in between Laura's legs and from her stomach.

"Ro," Laura panted.  "When I have to push, I need to hold you hand."

Ro nodded.  "Sure thing."

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