The morning was crap. She felt bad, you know, like when you've been hit on the pavement a couple of times. Victoria had been thrashing around the kitchen all morning, feeling a horrible gag reflex almost every half hour, hunched over at the sink.

She could have eaten some crap at last night's banquet in honor of some grandfather's birthday, glorified within the walls of Parliament. How tedious. And of course after that heartbreaking event, she was in for one hell of a hot night. Not that it was anything rare. It's just that she had two choices, either that bastard was saving up for mussels or she got pregnant.

You were still asleep in bed, wrapped up in your sheets. Victoria reached into the medicine cabinet, pulling out the last packet of test. And of course, bingo. The second stripe began to slowly show, causing her eyebrows to fly upward. That's news.

She couldn't help but feel a little uneasy, casting a glance at you from behind the ajar bathroom door. With light steps she walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it, she muttered in your face. "Hey, stop sleeping, it's almost ten in the morning." She clutched the ill-fated test in her other hand, not deciding to hold it out as your eyes sleepily opened in an attempt to get your bearings.

Taking a deep breath, Neuman shoved it in your face. "It's a bloody test." She bit her lower lip.