Entangled

Chapter 11

Next chapter requires a bit of untangling (oh, the irony!), but after that, everything should be new... whenever I get to it.

"No toast?"

Seth's voice isn't loud, but it still jars Becky out of her reverie. Is the grumbling she feels in her belly hunger pains or is it the baby? She's not sure anymore, and now she's thinking back to all the times in recent memory when she felt a bit off. Please be okay, she thinks, subtly patting her belly. A bunch of the wrestlers are in the hotel's private dining room having breakfast before heading to their respective homes, and she doesn't want to draw attention to herself. Roman already tried catching her eye when she sat down at the table, and she shot him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Hm?" Becky glances up at Seth and smiles. "No. Too nervous. Which probably means this isn't a good idea," she adds, tapping her coffee mug, "but I'll limit myself to one."

Seth glances around before sitting beside her and leaning in close, and Becky barely resists the urge to tell him to act normal. "Are you okay? You don't have... morning sickness yet, do you?" He stumbles over the phrase, voice dipping low, and for a moment she wishes she knew him when he was younger, a teenager just learning how to navigate puberty and lycanthropy all at the same time.

Becky glances over at Sasha, who's pacing with with her phone to her ear and a cup of coffee in the other hand, confirming last-minute details with Mina. When Seth follows her gaze, he frantically checks his own phone, looking at the address for the farm for what is probably the fifteenth time. "No. I just... I don't know what to expect," she says simply, "so I don't want to have too much in my stomach." When she sees the worry starting to darken his eyes, she reaches over and squeezes his hand. "I'll eat a late breakfast, I promise."

"Mina says any time is good; she doesn't have any other clients today," Sasha reports as she sits. "All the animals are fed, and she double-checked the access road to make sure it's clear."

A strange quiet falls over all three of them; even the conversations in the background seem muted until Becky clears her throat. "Mina knows we're all werewolves, right?" she asks quietly, breathing in the steam rising from her coffee. "Because if she has that many animals on the farm...."

"She knows." Sasha takes a long sip from her cup before she sets it down and grabs a croissant from her plate. "She's a witch, Becks. She deals with supernaturals all the time. I'm sure she has the chillest chickens on the planet."

Becky's laughter is so unexpected that imagines it startling the baby. "There's a selling point," she says, still trying to catch her breath. "Chillest chickens on the planet." She sobers quickly enough, but some of the tension in her jaw and shoulders ebbs away and she's grateful. When she's nervous, she can be snappy, and she doesn't want to annoy the witch—or worse.

"Have you ever been around chickens?" Sasha retorts in between giggles. "American chickens, anyway; I don't know what your Irish chickens are like. Seriously, though, she promised that her farm is warded and that we'd be safe, so you don't have to worry about rogue cows or anything like that. She also warned me that she doesn't drink coffee, so if we want some, we'll have to stop somewhere along the way."

Seth grimaces. "Is she one of those herbal tea people? I'm not drinking liquid potpourri," he insists. "We can stop at a drive-thru or something. Even fast-food coffee has to be better than that."

Sasha rolls her eyes and keeps chatting about all the different animals Mina has as well as various witch habits, and Becky relaxes a bit with each anecdote. Most of the witches Becky's known play into the Goth stereotype so they can hide in plain sight, but her current mental image of Mina is muddy jeans and flyaway hair. Maybe that's not such a bad thing, Becky thinks. If she can't be examined by someone she knows, she might feel more comfortable with someone who's down to earth. Before she can comment, though, Becky sees Sasha's hands tighten around her cup and she turns just in time to see Roman approaching. Not now, she thinks frantically. The last thing they need is for Roman to give Seth some sort of big-brother speech and draw attention to their table.

"Hey, gang. Sleep well?" Roman grips the back of Becky's chair so hard she can hear it creaking, and she hopes he isn't glaring at Seth.

"Yeah. We're just about to head out," Becky replies, turning in her seat to look up at him. She doesn't know if Seth told Sasha about her late-night stroll and she fervently hopes Roman doesn't bring it up either. Their little pack is already on edge and they don't need any more drama.

"All packed up," Seth adds, voice oddly stiff. He's not on high alert, but Becky can feel wariness radiating from him. "Just have to stop somewhere for coffee and then we'll be on the road."

Roman shifts his weight enough that Becky feels the chair almost tip. "They have take-out cups here."

If it's a hint for Seth to leave the table, though, he doesn't take it. "We'll stop on the way," Seth replies. "Support the local economy and all that."

Sasha's starting to get suspicious, so Becky stands quickly. "They have bottled water too, right? I'll grab us a few for the road. Be right back." She heads over to the beverage table, knowing Roman will follow her. Once they're far enough away from Sasha and Seth, she turns to him. "Everything's fine, Roman. Really. I just needed some space last night, that's all."

Roman nods slowly, and she can tell how much effort it takes him not to turn and glare at Seth. He loves Seth like a brother, but that also means he has a low tolerance for his bullshit. "Well, if it's ever not okay, you know who to come to, right?"

Becky nods as she grabs four water bottles and cradles them self-consciously against her belly. With as many kids as Roman has, he's probably more attuned to pregnancy-related changes than most, so she doesn't want to linger. "I do. And since I have Galina's number," she quips, hoping to distract him with a joke, "so I'll be able to get in touch with her right away."

"I can't even argue that one." With a sigh, Roman hugs her. "I'm not going to pretend to understand what you and Seth and Sasha have going on," he says, lowering his voice out of habit. He was one of the first who knew about their threesome and one of the few they actually told. "But make sure it's making you happy too, okay? Just because it's working for them doesn't mean it's working for you."

"It's working for all of us," Becky replies, hoping she doesn't sound defensive. "And whenever it isn't, we'll have to talk. I know that. But thank you."

Roman seems reluctant to leave her, but he relents after giving her another hug and kissing the top of her head. "Okay then. Have a safe trip and I'll see you next week."

"Say hi to Galina and the kids for me," Becky replies, waiting until Roman rejoins his cousins to return to her table. Sasha and Seth aren't looking at her expectantly, which is a relief; they're both gazing down at Seth's phone, which is showing a close-up map of the area. "Looking for a coffee place?" she asks as she sits down, setting the water bottles down on the table.

Seth nods absently. "There are a few fast-food places on the highway," he says, "so they should have drive-thrus. Then we don't have to worry as much about being recognized." With a laugh, he adds, "It would be easier if you both had normal hair...."

"Coming from the puppy who had that big blond streak?" Sasha reaches over and tugs on the section of curls that had, once upon a time, been bleached when he was in The Shield.

Becky sits back, listening to their banter. It's not quite a balm for her nerves, but it's a wonderful dose of normalcy, and given the amount of upheaval she's gone through in the past twenty-four hours, she'll take all the normal she can get.