“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive, Rebecca.”
She got up for what seemed like the fiftieth time and peeked over Margaret’s shoulder to the five pieces of plastic on the counter. The most important pieces of plastic she ever pissed on, and they held the most important answer in her life. Groaning, she covered her eyes and pressed them.
My cold, emu heart dokidokis erratically, comrade. (Unf.)
Everyone would think that being preggo would make her vulnerable to attacks. But nope uh-uh hell no she ain’t havin’ that. Nine months without alcohol, and all the other assassins steer clear of her after a week. Also, if the Association ever had a banquet or something like that, then all the assassins would stare at her in all her preggo-ness (assuming no one else got knocked up).
Also, Charlie’s reaction to the news will seem completely warranted after the next development in the R.P. is revealed. (AWYEAH.)
