Change of Heart [Giraffe]

Already feeling like a doting mother, Vicky frowned at Bear as his head slammed against the table. Having taken the long journey from the kitchen to the chair was bad enough and just as she relaxed into it complaints came rising from the other end. Exhausted and flustered, Vicky leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes and trying to find some peace in the ridiculous household that was only bound to get crazier. Her fingers rested on her stomach, which had grown large enough to rest just about anything on. A true little portable table, Vicky was a bit sad that it as only temporary.

Peeking out of one eye, she gazed at her charge. A shaggy, dark haired head that might as well have been a child. Well, he really is a child. Barely out of the Reaping's hands and yet falling into the law's. Eyes peeked out from underneath the mop of hair, disappointed and starved. "Vicky I can't do this. I'm not gonna eat various assortments of tree canopies."

As had become a habit in these long nine months, Vicky's fingers found her temples, pressing against them in some attempt to remove the ache pounding beneath the skin. "They're not trees Bear," she said, trying to remain calm, but mostly just sounding tired. "In fact they grow out of the ground." and it's a hell of a lot cheaper than meat. she thought to herself.

Taking in a deep breath, Vicky's nerves were soothed for the moment and she inched up further, stabbing her own fork into the pitiful looking greens she had tried to fluff up in the bowl to look more appetizing. That hadn't really worked. Truly, all the woman wanted was a good long pull on a bottle of liquor. However, even she had enough since to abstain from drinking. Plus, as long as she couldn't drink she sure as hell wasn't going to watch Bear do it.

Little miseries she could conflict on her poor partner, and how wonderful they did taste. A smile crossed her lips as she chewed the salad scrunching up her nose at the boy across the table. Children. Children having children. At what point did a person become an adult? When they quit canoodling with the rebellious young criminal? When they reached an exact age? Twenty seven years, two months, eight hours and fourteen minutes?

Even carrying her own child, Vicky didn't feel comfortable addressing herself as an adult. She didn't feel like one. More like a girl playing house with a doll and some poor boy she dragged into the game. Shifting in her seat, Vicky started to cramp in her side. No biggie, just too much walking today. Tomorrow she'd rest. Not much she could do anymore but wait anyway.
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Every scratch of Bear' fork against his bowl sent pain throbbing through Vicky's temples. She wanted him to stop but he just kept stabbing at the leaves, refusing to actually eat any. Her eyelid started twitching at the noise and if it didn't take so much energy she would have gotten up and slapped him. Could none of her work be appreciated? Customers complained of her sewing, Bear insulted the food, hell even the baby was kicking her. The boy across the table started spouting about purple leaves and acid and a bunch of nonsense when Vicky threw her fork into her bowl, letting the metal clash and screech.

"How about you pretend its a heart or a lung or some other organ," she snapped. Frustration and rage were bubbling inside of her, sweat forming on her brow that she felt too weak to even wipe away. She could feel her face flush red and the mere thought of eating was repulsive. Shoving the bowl away from her, Vicky grabbed the edge of the table feeling as though she'd be sick. Cramps ravaged her middle and the pain was the only thing she could think of- that and the puddle she was now sitting in.

Looking up, her eyes caught Bear's and pain wasn't the strongest emotion anymore. Worry and fear dominated the woman's mind as she tried to think of what to do- what to say. What was she supposed to do?

"Bear," it came out as a breathy whisper seeing as most of her strength was being used to keep from passing out. Another round of cramps shivered through her- not cramps contractions. "It's coming."

Even in the midst of being in labor the one thing Vicky Barci thought would help the situation was a good long swig of liquor. She needed to focus, but so many thoughts ran through her head she wasn't sure which one to grab onto. Booze? Bear? Baby? Gritting her teeth, Vicky leaned onto the table, pulling herself to her feet despite the protest of weak legs and shaky knees. Making sure to keep on hand on the table top to keep from falling over, Vicky stretched one out to Bear across the table. A pale, clammy palm that shook from nerves. "Help me."
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