Sarabeth, the last session before she's due

"We're going over to her place?" you ask Ms. Campion.

"Yes, Joe, Sarabeth asked us to come to her home studio," Anne says. "She's less mobile with her big tummy, and her home studio has everything. Follow closely along with her, this may be her last time before she pops out Baby Number Three. That leaves you promoted from understudy to masseur."

Anne accents it "MA-sseur", which might be the British way of saying it. Twelve years and she still sounds so much like old BBC radio that she could be Anastasia Cooke, secret heiress to the Letter to America.

"What are you grinning at, pool boy?" Anne says.

"I love your accent, it makes me smile."

Anne rests a fist on her hip, sticking out her elbow. Her dark red tresses wave as she tilts her head. "A likely story, Joe."

"You love it, Ms. Campion."

"Heaven help me, I do."

It's frankly a little scary to see your old boss so misty-eyed, the sharp-edged and sardonic Anne Campion who punched and kicked two storage pallets to kindling wood to take out her anger on something other than her cheating husband, to see Anne on the brink of tears.

She clears her throat and raises her eyebrows. "It must be the hormones you shot me full of, courtesy of that big prick. You better watch out once Baby is good and out."

Anne is probably right, her inner ogress is merely sleeping. But she's never been cruel to you, or anyone else that you know of, just sharp.

You like it sharp, now and then.

Roll 2d6+COOL(0) to STALK Anne's masseuse, the pregnant and perpetually horny Sarabeth: 2+0=2, MISS.

MISS (something non-sexual).

You and Anne find Sarabeth weeping. Anne tells you to shoo off while she talks with her.

"There's trouble with her baby," Anne relates as you drive home. "Her others were one, two, pop and out. This one? She'll be in hospital and they might have to take Baby out early. She's worried. Just a surprise they spotted today, so it's been a shock."

You and Anne have a bit of a domestic routine now. You make coffee for her. One cup of the real stuff, strong, in the morning. After that it's decaf or the foamy powdered coffee drink. She's doing daily exercises, and you follow along. You spot her for her stretches. She has you working on simple self-defense moves along with the class she teaches, so you're still working for her. You shower together at her house, separately at the pool and health club.

And she has you fuck her almost every night.

"Time to prong me, Joe," she tells you after dinner, once your microwave trays are crumpled into the bin. "Fuck it out of me, Joe, all the anger, all the pain."

But there's less anger each time and more wonder. You think that's what it is. The Pickup Artists' Guide says a bit about the likely expressions on your hookup girl's face when you're fucking her, but not much depth or subtlety.

You and Anne go in for the paternity test. She has a vial of blood drawn by a chunky, golden-skinned, matter-of-fact lady phlebotomist, who also collects your sample as a cheek swab.

A week later, Anne's phone chimes to announce the lab results are ready.

You sit together in front of Anne's doctor for the moment of truth. She whispers in your ear, "Even if it's his, marry me anyway, Joe. I want you. Even if I don't have you by the balls, marry me."

She squeezes your hand. Your heart thumps.

You have Hard +2 (with Fucking Huge), Hot +2 (with Charming), Cool 0, Control -1.

You have 5 XP and may spend them on a new Character Move from Create a Character.