TWENTY-SEVEN: Little Bumps In The Road [FLASHBACK]

It already felt like summer, even here by the waterfront – the heat and rising humidity were making her feel disgusting and she vowed that the moment she got inside she was going to ask Bruce if she could take a shower. Charity McLeod was exhausted and achy as she stepped out of the cab in the parking lot of Hell's Kitchen Studios, relieved when she saw her husband's bike parked in the shade of the building. She'd debated sending a text, had several in her drafts folder but they'd all felt wrong. She needed to see him and the sort of news she had to share wasn't the sort meant for that medium. She'd been gone for the past few days on a modeling shoot and actually hadn't been due back until the following day.

It wasn't uncommon for things to end early, especially when she was working with the best of the best but this time something had happened that had forced her to change her ticket to a much earlier flight; the square bandage on her forehead was a reminder of that. Looking up at the building, she dug into her purse for her sunglasses and settled them over her eyes. With the cabbie paid, she set out across the lot, watching heatwaves shimmer up off the pavement.

For her trip home, Charity had dressed in a pair of black leggings, a white tank top, and black ballet flats on her feet. Her blonde hair was thrown up into a messy bun and she hadn't really bothered with much in the way of makeup other than some lip-gloss and mascara – she knew she looked as exhausted as she felt but she still managed a bright smile as she stepped through the doors, immediately enveloped in icy-cold air. The small suitcase on wheels bumped along behind her as she passed the reception desk, smiling as she was greeted with waves and 'hellos' from people who were busy at work. Charity returned the greetings as she left her suitcase behind the front desk and made her way back to Bruce's office. After she talked to him, she planned on going home and spending quality time with their daughter, Sam.

She heard voices from beyond the partially closed door, one definitely the slightly accented tones of her husband. The other was female, a shrill giggle that set her teeth on edge even as she lifted her hand to knock rather than barge right in.

Bruce was in his chair, tilted back with his feet propped on the desk as some footage of the last recording session played out on the bank of screens on the wall. On the corner of the desk, Shirlea Frost sat, filing her nails. She was dressed in a black latex skirt that hid nothing from view and a leopard-print velour bikini top that made her look like a Saturday night streetwalker. Tapping a key on the keyboard in front of him, Bruce paused the playback and let the chair's front legs drop back to the floor. "It's open," he called out, surprised that anyone in this place had the presence of mind to knock.

Charity gently swung open the door and stood in the doorway as she glanced at Shirlea and then back at Bruce. She wasn't exactly surprised to see the other woman there. Shirlea had been a thorn in their sides for years and there wasn't a person Charity despised more. Unfortunately, the trouble-making blonde was a huge draw for the studio. There was no way she was going away anytime soon.

"Hi, baby." The words came out softly as she kept a hand on the doorknob, waiting to get the okay to enter her husband's office.

"Cherry-love!" The grin that lit up his face made her feel a little better about the intrusion, for sure. Bruce stood and cast a sour look at Shirlea, "we'll look over the rest later. Go find Ray. See if he still wants to re-shoot or if he's gotten down off the cross and is ready tae accept he's not workin' for Spielberg."

Shirlea rolled her eyes as she hopped off the desk, her clear stilettos as loud as gunshots as she stomped towards the door, doing her best to crash into Charity in the process. "Whatever you say, boss."

Bruce waited until she was gone and the sound of her footfalls had faded before he beckoned for his wife to come inside. There was a pile of clothing on the free chair in the corner, mostly costumes that needed mending or alterations for upcoming shoots that were planned. The only free places to sit were either the corner of the desk where Shirlea had been or the red velvet couch against the wall that everyone mockingly called the 'casting couch'.

Charity walked into the room and shut his office door. "Hey, handsome." With a tired smile on her face, she walked over to where he was seated and leaned over, her hands resting on either side of his face. "I missed you." She kissed him softly and then hugged him. "Sorry I just showed up, I got an early flight this morning."

He hugged her back before pulling away to look at her, his eyes going to that bandage on her forehead. "Aye. See it got a little rough on set, hmm? Hope the other guy looks worse." He chuckled, trying to keep it light because he could almost sense there was something off.

"Nah, the table I landed on is still standing." She laughed a bit and pulled back. "Can we sit on the couch? We gotta talk." She exhaled and straightened up and held her hand out to him.

Looking over at the couch, he shrugged and let her take his hand. "A table? Now I'm a wee bit concerned." The smile faded a little as they walked across the room, hand-in-hand. He sat down first, letting out a sigh as he sank into the cushions. Despite the stories about the thing, it was still damned comfortable to sit on.

Charity sat next to him, keeping his hand in hers, before grabbing his other. "Yesterday afternoon I fainted on set and whacked my head on a coffee table. They took me to the hospital and ran some tests-"

"What?" His eyes went wide, that easy smile fading away as he stared at her in concern. "Shoulda called. I'd have been-"

"It wasn't a big deal," she cut him off gently, "I don't have a concussion. Perry told me that they had enough pictures and I could get an early flight home."

"Jesus," he lifted one hand to gently tuck her hair behind her ear before touching the bandage. "Too much work, not enough tae eat? They been starvin' yeh again?" He leaned in and kissed her forehead, just as gingerly as that touch had been. "Gotta be more careful. Mebbe next time I should come along, aye? Teach those pricks how tae do a professional shoot."

Charity kept her eyes on Bruce's face and gently shook her head. Her own smile had faded as she let out a sigh. "It had nothing to do with the job." Her gaze went to their hands for a few moments before locking her eyes on his. She wasn't about to beat around the bush on this. Taking a deep breath, she just blurted it out, "I'm eight weeks pregnant."

Bruce stared at her, stunned silent. Muffled laughter could be heard from someone passing in the hall.

"I musta missed a day or two of my pill."

"You..." he stammered, eyes going wide. "Eight weeks?" He tried to think back to what they'd been up to a couple months ago but they'd never really had any issues with their sex life. "How... Jesus Christ. Seriously?" After their daughter had been born, there hadn't really been much discussion about more children.

Charity's shoulders lifted in a shrug, she had been just as floored as her husband, but she'd had a day to let it sink in. "I don't know." She felt like she was sixteen all over again. The only thing that had changed in all that time was her husband's facial hair. He never went clean-shaven these days, almost as though he believed the goatee and mustache made the scars on his face less noticeable. "Bruce... honey? Say something."

He hadn't really thought about expanding their family. Siobahn had been an accident, after all, and even though she'd ended up being the glue that had kept them together though a tough time, he'd never entertained the thought. He was so busy these days with the porn studio and with wrestling at least once a month for various local promotions. They were in a good place.

"...like I said, maybe I forgot to take the pill."

He realized she was talking, looking up sharply to meet her gaze only to have her eyes skitter away. She bit her lip, not really knowing what to say. She couldn't read his expression, wasn't sure what he was thinking. Was he angry? He probably was. Their life had become so comfortable and easy, especially with their daughter as old as she was. "I'm sorry," the apology slipped out in a small voice.

Bruce blinked at her, confused at the apology. "What're you apologizing for?" When she refused to look at him, he gently lifted his hand to touch her cheek, turning her head back. "We're fine. We've got money in the bank. The house is paid for. This shithole... we're makin' money rather than haemorrhaging it – ever since I took over the books, we're good." He looked around the office, at the clutter filling every space. They weren't in dire straits in any way. They were happy and maybe it was the thought of leaving that rut, of rocking the complacent boat that was souring his guts but he forced a smile. "So... what're we gonna do?"

"I don't know." She stumbled over the words, "we've never talked about having more kids. I mean, things are really good right now and Sam's gonna be a teenager in a couple years." Her head was starting to pound as she pulled away from him and sat back on the couch, not even caring about its history because it was comfortable and her back was starting to ache. "We'd essentially be starting all over again."

"Aye." He nodded. "Would that be so bad?" He leaned back, stretching his arm around her shoulders. "Siobahn's grown. She's nigh on old enough tae babysit, if need be..." chuckling, he looked over at her, "not quite as overwhelming this go-round, is it?"

"No, actually it's probably a good time in our lives." She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. Every point he brought up was true. It had been ten years. She wasn't a kid anymore, either. They'd been married for many years and their daughter had turned out wonderful so far. "Well, I guess there's something I have for you, then." Her hand slid into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Handing it to him, she watched his face as he unfolded the ultrasound photo of their baby she'd gotten at the hospital.

"Oh." It was just a small sound, barely an exhale as he smoothed it out against his knee. It wasn't the same as when he'd seen his daughter for the first time on that little monitor. It wasn't that rush of vertigo and awe. This was warmer, far warmer. He looked up at her, his eyes bright. There was a gentle smile on his face, one that was much more flattering than the cheeky grin he usually had. "Look at tha'... hello little wean," he murmured, reaching out to rest his hand over her stomach rather than the inanimate paper.

"He's a little peanut." The words came out in a soft whisper and she didn't even bother to correct herself. She hadn't found out the gender of their baby – it was far too soon for that, after all. She just had a feeling they were having a boy. Lifting her head, she kissed his cheek, right over one of his scars. "Do you think you could take the rest of the day off?" A playful smirk crossed her face as her lips moved down to his neck. "Siobahn is in school for a few more hours and I think I could use a little TLC. That is, if you're up for the task."

"Mmmm," he let his eyes close for a moment, enjoying the feel of her lips on his skin. He'd never quite gotten used to how cherished that made him feel and he hoped he never did. "Think I could. We're ahead of schedule, as long as that knob-jockey stops bein' such a prima donna over every niggly little thing."

Charity got an idea in her head as her smirk widened into a mischievous smile. "Just a moment." She got off the couch and walked to his office door. Locking it, she turned and slid off her top, showing off the lacy bra she had on underneath. "I suppose there isn't any reason to leave." Making her way back over to him, she straddled his lap, a knee on either side of him. "You could audition me." A few times over the years, they'd messed around at the studio when there wasn't anyone else around.

"I could..." he grinned wolfishly, wrapping his arms around her. "Already know you're the best, though."

"True." She laughed and kissed him, her arms going around his neck. "And not to be sappy, but I'm only at my best when I'm with you."

"Love yeh," he murmured after kissing her deeply. "Gads, am so happy right now... lemme show you."