Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy (JoeMazzello!JohnDeacon fanfic)

seventy nine

The woman takes quick glance down at her now soaking skirt, a look of complete and utter sympathy washing over her and she steps forward, "Oh, love, it's alright."

Roxanne shakes her head, "No, no it's not alright. No, we're-they're not supposed to come for another three weeks."

"Let's finds you a seat, yes? And I'll go find your husband," she instructs softly, leading her towards the checkout area where there is a two-seater.

"H-he's not my husband," Roxanne stutters, "He's just my friend."

"Alrighty then," she helps her sit down, "How about you tell me his name and we'll fire out a tannoy for him."

"Freddie," she says, "Freddie Mercury."

She looks at her as if to say really? But when Roxanne nods, she goes to make the announcement.

"Okay," she whispers, putting her hand on her bump, "Alright, little one. What's going on, hm?"

She can't be in labour. She just can't be. It's too early.

She hears the woman calling for Freddie over the tannoy system and it's not long before she sees him coming down the stairs from the next floor.

"Roxanne?" he frowns, dropping the picture that he's carrying and rushing toward her, "Darling, what is it?"

"Her water has broken," the woman, who she doesn't know the name of, swoops out of the backroom but Roxanne shakes her head.

"No. I can't be. I-it's not time."

"We see this in here all the time. And I can tell you that you are definitely in labour."

"Labour?!" Freddie all but screams, "What-no! How the hell am I supposed to get her to the hospital?"

"Calm down," she puts her hand on his shoulder and Roxanne finally gets a chance to read her name tag, "We'll phone you an ambulance and get you off to the hospital."

Carrie. That was her name.

"Freddie," she cries, searching for her friend's hand, "Freddie,"

"Calm down, darling," he soothes, squeezing her hands, "It'll all be alright. Are you having contractions?"

She shakes her head, "No."

She tries to wrack her brain, trying to think back to the books that she'd finally read. Could this be false labour? It could, right?

"Ambulance is on the way," Carrie hums.

"Could we borrow the phone?" Freddie asks, looking up at her, "I'm sure she'd feel better if I rang her husband for her."

"Of course!"

Reluctantly, Roxanne lets his hand go for him to go do just that and Carrie takes his place beside her.

"This is your first?" she asks.

"How can you tell?" Roxy jokes and she gives her a smile in return.

"The fear on your face."

"It's too early," she whispers, "Isn't it? It's too early."

"I'm afraid that babies don't follow a schedule, dear."

"If I am in labour," she murmurs, "They'll be okay, right?"

"They'll be fine," Carrie puts her hand on hers.

"Roxanne," Freddie calls, "Roxy, darling, Deaky's wanting to talk to you. He wants to know if you're alright."

"The phone cable should stretch," Carrie nods and gets up, allowing Freddie to sit back down beside her and hands her the phone.