Chapter 36 - The Problem with Chiefy.

Brian had thought he was getting so good at the monthly doctor appointment thing. Justin took care of all the arrangements. Brian showed up, pissed in a cup, they weighed him and then Chiefy told him what a good boy he'd been for eating like such a pig. Then they did something spectacular for the media and went home. No problem. Brian had this all figured out. Right?

And, it was all working out that way this time, as well. At least at first. Only, he hadn't apparently eaten like enough of a pig. He'd gained less than his required four pounds. Chiefy gave him a big lecture and Daphne and Justin frowned at him. He wished they would just cut him a little slack. He was less than a half pound away from their goal. It wasn't like he was trying to starve himself or anything. Hell, he'd gained almost twenty fucking pounds already. Wasn't enough, enough? Fine, he promised he'd cut back a bit on the exercise.

Then, Chiefy started discussing all the stuff he DIDN'T want to think about, let alone hear, and Brian started to freak out again.

It started off tame enough - gross, but not too scary. Chiefy explained about edema, which meant he might retain water and his ankles would swell. Ick! But, Brian figured he could deal with that if he had to. Then she just went insane and started telling him about urinary tract infections, backaches, preterm labor and something that sounded very yucky and vaguely scary called preeclampsia. There was something he needed to watch out for called Braxton-Hicks contractions that sounded painful. There were more tests to come - Rh Negative antibody screening, a Streptococcus B Infection test and a glucose challenge test. If he failed any of these it would mean he'd have to get more shots and tests and come to the doctor more frequently.

But all that was nothing. He could handle all of that if he had to. What he wasn't ready to think about, and what Chiefy insisted on bringing up for discussion, was how they were going to get the god damned thing out of him.

Brian had pretty much come to grips with the fact that he was some sort of weird genetic aberration. He and maybe ten other men in the history of the world had managed to get pregnant. So then, if the genetics had somehow fucked up enough that he could get pregnant, why hadn't they also figured out a way to get the damned baby out of him?

Brian had scrupulously avoided learning anything about THAT part of this whole deal. He had stopped reading all the books and articles when they'd started to talk about 'Labor'. He didn't want to think about it. It was insane. He'd accepted the concept of being pregnant but that was as far as he'd been willing to take it. The part that came after 'being pregnant' was a blank that he wanted to know nothing about.

Then, fucking Chiefy had to go and ruin everything by bringing the whole issue up, completely without warning, so he had no way to block out the unwanted information.

And it turned out to be pretty much everything Brian had feared. Shitty genetics had got him pregnant but hadn't come up with a GOOD way to get the baby out. It turns out men just didn't have the right equipment. No shit! The only solution was a Caesarian Section. They'd have to cut the little parasite out of him. Figures!

So when Chiefy started to bring up issues like getting his Will updated now, just in case, and preparing an Advanced Directive for the hospital as well as a Birthing Plan, Brian started to feel faint again. Didn't she fucking know this shit wasn't good for his blood pressure! He WAS fucking pregnant. Why the fuck was she bringing this shit up now?

Brian really didn't like hospitals in the first place. He figured he'd been doing really well coming here at all over the past few months. But the very idea of Labor or Surgery was completely out of the fucking question. He couldn't do it. Fuck this! Brian was NOT going to do this!

"Brian? Where are you going," Justin asked when the subject of the discussion got up and almost ran towards the door. "Are you feeling okay?"

"No! I'm not fucking feeling okay. I have to get out of here!" Brian managed to pant out as his sweaty hands ineffectively slid off the metal door knob. "Let me the FUCK out of here!"

It took the combined efforts of both Chiefy and Justin to get Brian back into his chair at that point. Daphne was almost as freaked out at the sight of the imperturbable Brian losing it as the man himself was. When Justin had finally coaxed him back to the chair and Chiefy had ordered a portable oxygen tank brought in to ward off the hyperventilation, they warily waded back into the issue of labor and delivery.

"You didn't read about that part in the materials I gave you, Brian?" Chiefy asked incredulously. "How did you think the baby would be born?"

"No. I didn't fucking read that part. I didn't think about it at all." Brian huffed through the plastic mask. "I don't WANT to think about it!"

"I'm afraid you're going to HAVE to think about it Brian. In less than three months, give or take a couple weeks, that baby's going to want to be born. You don't really have much choice about it now," Chiefy said condescendingly.

"It's okay, Brian," Justin asserted quietly with conviction. "He just needs a bit of time to adjust to the idea, Doctor. It's probably a good thing you brought it up now. This way we have lots of time to prepare. Brian doesn't like hospitals much . . ."

"I understand," The Chief replied. "Why don't you go sit and rest awhile in the reception area until you feel better. Just check in with me before you decide to leave so I can make sure you're okay."

So they walked Brian and his wheeled oxygen contraption out to a quiet corner of the waiting room and sat together, saying nothing, for about another half hour. When Brian's hand, which had been tightly gripping Justin's since they got him back into a chair, finally stopped trembling, Justin suggested they go.

"No. I can't. They'll . . . they'll see this," Brian gestured at himself, rumpled, sweaty, pale and definitely NOT the usual debonair Stud image he preferred.

"We could wait," Justin offered. "Or . . . I could just go out there by myself, talk to the reporters and then they'll all go away like usual and I can come back here and get you."

It probably said a lot about Brian's state of still near panic that he even contemplated the idea. Justin had never really been as good at manipulating the media as Brian. Justin was, at heart, a shy unassuming artist. He wasn't by any means the natural showman that Brian had always been. Would Justin be able to do it alone?

"Tell me - what are you going to say," Brian asked doubtfully.

"Ummm . . . Thanks for coming and . . . no comment?" Justin suggested.

"You have to do something - give 'em a show - distract them or they'll ask more questions," Brian explained.

"I . . . I don't know. You usually kiss me or something. . ." Justin was at a loss.

"Justin could kiss me!" Daphne interjected excitedly. "That would definitely throw them off!"

*hehehe* "Yep," Brian chuckled. "That should work perfectly. Fuck. I can just see the headlines . . . What do you think, Sunshine. Are you prepared to lock lips with a GIRL for the sake of rescuing my faltering reputation?"

"Sure," Justin shrugged but then looked dubiously at his best friend. "I guess I could kiss Daph."

"Gee! Thanks, Jus, for making it sound like such a horrible proposition. I'll have you know I've never yet had ANY complaints about my kissing," Daphne pouted.

"Yeah, and you've kissed how many guys? Including me and your cousin, that would be two," Justin teased.

"Shut up, you," Daph slugged him in the arm with all due affection. "Do you want my help or not?"

"Yeah. I'm just kidding, Daph. What do you think, Brian? Will it work?" Justin asked his mentor.

"It should. Just . . . Make it look good," Brian added.

The two teens got up to go. They decided that after they put on their little act they'd go straight to the waiting car and then call Brian later when it was all clear. Maybe they'd even have the car drive around for a bit before coming back. Brian agreed and promised he would wait in the office for their return. Justin was the first to head out the door as soon as he was reassured that Brian wouldn't go anywhere till he came back. Brian waved him out the door, then grabbed Daphne and quickly whispered something that made the girl giggle and nod enthusiastically before she followed on her friend's heels.

Downstairs, Justin put on Daphne's baggy sweat shirt as camouflage before they headed out. The usual media group was already arranged around the planters full of flowers where Brian always set things up. Justin and Daphne headed over there a little hesitantly. There were definitely murmurs and whispers when it was noted that the tall brunet wasn't with the other two. Justin tried to look confident as he waved off their questions until he was in place.

*Ahem* "Ummm . . . Hi everybody. Uh, thanks for coming . . . Everybody having a nice afternoon? . . ." Justin was faltering, just about to give up.

Then, out of the blue, the petite, curly-headed girl who'd always been quiet as a mouse in these situations before, lunged at her blond friend, wrapped her arms around the boy and forcefully dipped him backwards, kissing away at the surprised youth for all she was worth. It took Justin a few seconds to catch on but then he started kissing her back - maybe not as passionately as he would have if it had been Brian who had attacked him, but good enough for the cameras.

There was a roar from the crowd. Then there were titters and giggles. Then the cameras went wild, flash going off every which way and the crowd whistling and shouting in approval. When Daph's back started to tire - Justin WAS a bit bigger than she was after all - she pulled them both up, smiled prettily for the cameras and said. "Mr. Taylor has no further comment. Bye, bye!"

Both teens laughed and then ran towards the waiting car, slipping inside just before the reporters could swarm. They told the driver to go as soon as they were seated. The reporters stood in the roadway behind them, looking excited and confused at the same time. Daph and Justin were laughing uproariously as they drove off, leaving them all thinking.

The two friends told the driver to just circle around for awhile. Then they decided to stop when they saw a Dairy Queen. They felt a little bad for getting ice cream without Brian, but figured if they got one for him it would probably just melt before they could get back to the hospital. Then Daph came up with the perfect solution by suggesting they just come back for more after they picked up the Prego Stud. After all, Brian needed his calories, right?

It was almost an hour later when the car pulled back around into the hospital driveway. From inside the darkened windows of the car, Justin and Daphne scanned the scene intently. When nobody had approached them after a full five minutes, they decided the coast was clear and hopped out to go get Brian.

Brian was impatiently waiting for them back in Chiefy's office. He seemed recovered from his panic attack earlier but he was bored and irritable and annoyed that he'd had to wait so long. Irritable Brian Syndrome was a very nasty condition, too. Justin only placated the grouchy Stud by promising him that they'd found this great little ice cream place that they could visit on the way home. Brian perked up a little bit.

As they headed back to the waiting car, the coast still seemed clear. Unluckily, there was still one die-hard journalist watching from the shadows of the nearby parking structure. Larry snapped a couple more photos but was really too far away to tell much about what was going on.

The only odd thing Lardy Larry could see was that the girl and the little blond seemed to be helping the big brunet into the car. Usually it was the small blond, Taylor, that everyone seemed to help. He smelled a rat, but couldn't quite see where the stinky little critter was hiding. He needed some more inside information. Maybe he could talk his buddy David into a little more spying?