Epilogue: Fuckup

They called it morning sickness, but it struck at any time. Lois had lost track of how many times she'd had to dash to the toilet, guts churning. She kept a spare toothbrush and paste in her purse, to keep her teeth being corroded from the vomit. Tried the anti-nausea candies, none of which worked. Chugged those terrible-tasting electrolyte drinks so she didn't dehydrate, because that was bad for the baby. Ate a sleeve of saltines a day, munching away at her desk.

Eight weeks today. Thirty-two left to go. Admit it, Lois Lane, the reporter thought to herself. Being pregnant sucks. But at least you have a warm cock to come home to at night...

The door opened to her key.

There were four people standing around the kitchen table. One was Angie, in human form, wearing one of Lois's business suits. The other three were wearing bright, colorful costumes. Lois saw swords strapped to backs, guns in holsters. Masks. There was a blueprint on the table.

"This isn't what it looks like," the demon said.

"Who the fuck is she?" One of the masked men reached for his gun.

"My girlfriend," Angie said. "This is kind of her apartment."

Lois Lane took a deep breath. For a moment she couldn't speak. Her whole body seemed to be of heightened awareness. She could smell oil and sweat...all those costumed folk tended to stew in their own costumes, a constant low-level reek of trapped sweat, food smells, odors that they'd lived with so long they'd just gotten used to.

"Out," the reporter said.

"Lady, I don't know who you are, but—" Gun guy said.

He didn't finish. Lois Lane's purse hit him in the face before he could pull his gun clear of the holster. Her foot found his crotch, her heel stabbing into a reinforced cup. The leg of the chair gave way, and he hit the floor with his ass. The pregnant reporter leaned in, her heel digging into his crotch. Even with that protection, he would feel it. His guy cleared the holster...

"No," Blaze plucked it out of his hand. The demon sighed. "Let's...call it a wrap, okay folks? Girlfriend and I need to talk."

The costumed crowd filed out. One of them took the blueprint with them. They left the chair in pieces on the floor.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Lois shouted after the door closed. "You promised: No. More. Supervillainy!"

"It wasn't!" Blaze said. She sighed. "It was a consultation. They're expecting some mystical threats and wanted some wards around their lair. Perfectly legit work—"

"For villains, Angie!" Lois said.

"I mean, technically they're a mercenary group," Angelica said. She fidgeted, and dropped her human form. It had become a habit, when they were alone.

"He pulled a gun on me!"

"That...was not cool."

"God, I just cannot take this," Lois Lane sat down in one of the chairs that wasn't broken. "You brought them here! Into our home!"

"Babe, none of them were a threat to me—"

"That's not the point!" Lois said, and slammed her fist onto the table for emphasis. "They have our address now. What if they come back, and you're not here? What if I'm alone, or if they come after I have the baby, and...you put all of us in danger!"

"Sweetmeat...I made a mistake, but it'll be alright. I'll be here to protect us, I won't..."

"No," Lois said, her voice cold and hollow. "You won't. Get out."

"What?" Blaze's voice faltered.

"You lied to me. You endangered my baby. I trusted you, and you violated that trust," Lois stood up, and there were no tears in her eyes, but she felt her heart ready to drop into her stomach. "I'm breaking up with you. We're through. Get out."

"Lois...babe...no...please, don't...I can change! I know I fucked up, but please, just let me..." It was pathetic to see the demon so wide-eyed and shaken. She reached for Lois.

The pregnant reporter slapped her hand away.

"Get out, before I call Superman to do it." She said.

Stunned, Blaze seemed to freeze in place...and then there was a distant clap of thunder...and she was gone. The empty clothes she wore fluttered to the floor.

For the first time in months, Lois Lane went to bed alone. There, huddled in a ball, still able to smell Blaze's scent, she reached over to the other side of the bed...and the tears came. Hot, bitter tears that blinded her sight, body-wracking sobs as all the pain that Lois felt from the separation came on like hot pokers stabbing into her chest.

She cried long into the night. Ignoring the churning nausea that set about her. The burning emptiness between her legs. It was the first night in a long time she hadn't gotten a warm, heart fuck. A kiss goodnight with just the right amount of tongue. That she couldn't reach over and grab Angie's boobs and huge her tight to steal some of her bodyheat against the chill. Lois Lane hated herself for what she had done...and hated Blaze for making her do it.