Being pregnant is pretty great.

Not for the glowing skin (hardly), or the thicker hair (lies), but the fact that most guys leave me alone because they assume I'm taken. Of course, there are the fetished few who want to bang a pregnant chick, but they're easy enough to avoid.

Regardless, I'm happy for the break. Since my relationship with Garrett fell apart, I found a lot of people urging me to "get back out there." Not to mention a couple of guy friends coming out of the woodwork. Jake, for instance, thought it'd be great timing to tell me that he was in love with me… three days after my split.

For the most part, this pregnancy has weeded out the fake friends, as well. Though a few of them were surprises, I'm happier knowing who truly had my back. It's strange that I didn't have everyone's support. Well, excluding my father, of course. I haven't spoken to him since he heard the words "I'm pregnant" from his unwed, single, twenty-five year old daughter. He hung up and hasn't responded to any attempts at contact since. I wrote a letter, but I'm guessing his stubborn ass didn't read it. Renee, my mother, could not be reached for comment. Probably in an ashram or something trying to Eat, Pray, Love her way into some hot Spanish guy's pants. I digress.

As I sit in the waiting room, ready for another sonogram, I wonder if it's really necessary. On the other hand, I work from home and it gives me a reason to waddle out into the world.

I look down at the little duck feet-shaped booties I'm knitting and giggle to myself. "You are going to be so frakkin' cute in these, baby!" I say, rubbing one hand on my stomach. The baby takes the opportunity to punch my bladder. I nearly pee. OMG, how much water did I drink for this?

"Mrs. Swan?" Tanya, the surly receptionist calls.

"It's MIZZ," I correct for the third time. I'm irritated for three reasons: one, her attitude, two, her assumption, and three, her over-bleached hair. Strike a match near her head and she would go up in flames.

She leaves me in the room to settle myself in. I lie back on the table to relax, expecting to be waiting a while. Hopefully, my bladder won't explode all over the room, but currently it is giving my kegels a run for their money. I've gotten used to the constant need to pee though I have been tempted to wear adult diapers some days. That or just work from the toilet. I lead a glamorous life, clearly.

A few minutes later, there's a knock.

"Come in," I say haughtily, but giggle. It's not like it's my house.

"Hello, Isabella," the decidedly male voice says. My eyes are immediately drawn to his beautiful, chiseled-by-angels face. Sweet Lord. "How are you feeling?"

Oh, hell. I may have just peed a little. Way to go, kegels.

I open my mouth to speak, and thanks to my suaveness, nothing comes out. His greener-than-grass eyes stare at me with curiosity. And by curiosity, I mean he probably wants to know if I'm mute or have taken a vow of silence. He proves this theory when he checks my chart, running the long fingers of his free hand through his wild, light auburn hair.

"Just you today?" he asks.

"Yep. All the other personalities hate doctors and nurses."

Deer in headlights.

"Kidding."

Less in headlights, still a little bit deer.

"Yeah, just me today. Sorry. You can call me Bella. Please. Sorry. Again. I'm pregnant. And clearly, batshit."

He chuckles, his posture looser. "It's fine," he says, his smile subtle but I'm swooning. "I'm Edward. It's nice to meet you, Bella."

Say it again. Bella. SAY. MY. NAME.

"Care to see your baby?"

That sounds odd. I feel more like "my little lodger." I can hardly imagine myself as a mom. My own was so… not a mom. I mean, I love her, but the woman should never care for another human being. Or animal. Maybe a house plant with supervision.

I clapped my hands. "OK, Edward. Do me!" My face ignites as hot, crimson embarrassment creeps down my neck like a rash. "I mean, uh. Let's do it. Shit."

He looks at me with an impregnating smirk. Heh. See what I did there? He shakes his head slightly and eyes the screen on the machine. "So you're almost seven months along?"

"No," I correct, "almost eight months."

"Oh, right," he says, looking at the file again. "I was looking at last visit."

I stare at his hands while he manages all the settings on the computer. He picks up the gel and moves the sensor next to me on the table. I expose my belly at the same time he reaches to tuck the paper blanket around me to keep the goo off my clothes. His hand brushes mine and Lodger kicks right next to his hand. Naturally, he flips his palm to press against the spot. Lodger kicks harder.

"Did you feel that?" he asks, amazement sparkling in his eyes. In that moment, I am in a parallel universe. Maybe perpendicular. In any case, it's our baby in that multi-directional universe and my heart pounds. I snap out of the delusion and fall back into my usual pile of reality and frown.

"I'm sorry," he says, moving to retract his hand. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay! I was thinking of something else." I end up holding his warm hand against the baby-dome between us. The lodger squirms, pushing against my rib. "Ahh… yep. Felt that, too."

He nods, fighting a smile. I let my hand linger, because fuck it, I have nothing to lose, but finally let go before it gets too awkward. Probably too late. I do awkward really well.

"This might be a bit cold," he says, and squirts a gel happy face on my bump.

Edward turns to the screen where we both see my uterine hotel appear. His hand and the sides of his fingers brush my skin and even through the gel, I secretly wish he would let his fingertips trail behind the sensor, back and forth. Then down… I mean, hell, this gel is essentially water-based lube, right? Not that I need it. I'm so horny, I could mount him before I knew what I was doing. Damn hormones.

"Wow, baby either doesn't like me or really likes me," Edward muses. Every time he rests the heel of his palm on my belly, baby moves noticeably and or kicks. I think Lodger agrees that Edward is quite a fine specimen.

"Like any kid, this one probably just doesn't want to make it easy for you," I tease. I'll make it easy for you, though.

Edward laughs and the sound is musical. "Fair point."

"Do you have kids?"

The sensor slips into my lap. His hand is still attached and essentially resting in my ladygarden. Well, at the door, anyway. It's highly amenable to its guest.

"No!" he shouts, adjusting his volume after he removes his hand and the sensor. "Sorry, I… I mean, no. No kids."

He mumbles something, and I wish pregnancy came with superhearing. It does not.

"Would you like to?" I am immediately realize it sounds like I'm offering. Did I just proposition him? Jesus.

His beautiful eyes narrow like he thinks it's a trick question. I start sputtering, laughing at how ridiculous this entire appointment has been so far. He's confused at first, but soon joins me in laughter.

"Yes," he says finally, "I think I would."

We stare at each other, grinning. My bravery reaches new heights as I drum up the balls to flirt a little. Very little.

"Well, I hope they have your eyes," I say. "They're such a beautiful green."

His face goes slack. I am sure I've freaked him out, but then his smile creeps back and he blushes. BLUSHES.

Oh, smitten. I am in the SMIT.

I get the urge to ask him out. Before I even open my mouth, I realize an adorable, sweet, gorgeous guy (who wears no ring) is practically required to have a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Please be single. And straight. Or at least, bi.

My confidence wanes. How enticing am I right now? There's no way this is a good idea! He's just being nice, it's not like we have some amazing connection. And who dates while pregnant? Prostitutes, that's who.

As he marks a couple things on my chart, I debate. I mean, this is unprecedented.

I decide that the whole "nothing to lose" angle is still in effect and stumble into an attempt.

"Edward?" I begin, the word alone sounding timid. I start to chew on my lip but he's turning to look at me. Oh, God. Does he look hopeful? No. Clearly I am, as expected, delusional. "Would you want to—"

"I MADE IT!"

At the exact moment I have thrown caution to the wind, Rosalie busts through the door unannounced.

"Hi, baby!" she says, excitedly. "And hi, Bells!"

Her heels click along the floor as she hurries over to me and kisses me on the mouth. I stare at her with my signature "WTF!?" expression, but it's lost on her. She sees her baby onscreen.

"You didn't learn the sex, right?" she asks, as if I'd forget my promise.

"No," I say through gritted teeth.

"Good. We want to be surprised!" she pants as she grabs my hand.

It's then that I realize Edward has gone completely quiet. He's not looking at me anymore and is actively trying to avoid eye contact.

"Edward," I say, drawing out his attention. His eyes seem less vibrant. "This is Rosalie. She's—"

"This is my baby!" she squeals, pointing to the screen. "Thank you, Bella!" Then she kisses me again. "Beautiful, beautiful, lovely, wonderful Bella! You're so amazing, I love you so much!"

For someone who claimed she was never that into her college "experiments," she's kissing me a whole helluva lot these days.

"Hello, Rosalie," he says. "Congratulations. Baby is healthy, heart rate is strong, and it looks like your family is right on schedule."

His smile is genuine but the cute flirtiness that made my thighs clench is gone.

Oh shit. Rose is squeezing the life out of my hand and I'm pretty sure he thinks we're lesbians. Rose's massive three-carat is probably blinding him. And I was flirting like a shameless hussy. Wait, I can't be a skank if I'm not actually… I'm so confused right now. I need a nap.

Edward prints out the sonogram pictures and hands the to Rose, who squealy-clap-jumps, hugs me, and kisses me. AGAIN.

Jesus, I think she's on drugs.

"I'm sending a digital set to your phone, Bella. That way you can share via text, too."

TEXT! Yes. "I'll send it to you, Rose, and you can send to Emmett, okay?"

"No," she says, and I immediately know by her weird tone of voice she's going to ruin my ploy. "Baby boy will have to wait til mama gets home."

Could she POSSIBLY have worded that worse? Yes. Actually, I know she could have.

"Bella, we're all set," Edward declares. He looks at me and it appears like he wants to say something. He sighs instead, stripping off his gloves. Gently, he wipes the gel off my belly. The warmth of his hand sweeps across my skin. Baby kicks.

Yep. Definitely peed that time. Ugh.

He looks at me at the exact moment I wince and probably thinks I'm disgusted by his touch. Great. Thanks, Lodger.

"Good luck with the birth," he says, something strange in his voice. "I'm sure you'll do great. It was a pleasure to meet you both."

"You, too!" Rose says absently, gleefully in love with the photo in her hands.

Edward disappears. I roll off the table, groaning and clutching the beachball I swallowed. I probably read him all wrong, anyway. Besides, what business do I have trying to date while acting as a surrogate for Rose and Emmett? Christ, I'm an asshole.

"Come on, Bella," Rose says. "Emmett is making dinner."

"Oh, is it okay to let 'baby boy' near an oven?" I snap as I pull down my top and pick up my purse. "Bad parenting already. Tsk-tsk."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

I shuffle into my shoes and sling the massive bag over my shoulder. Rose grabs it to carry for me.

"Nothing. I'm grand," I say, and remain silent until we get to the lobby. "I'll see you at your house."

Rose huffs. "Bella, what is wrong? You're freaking me out. Also, I asked you to take a cab, so ya know what? You ride with me. Emmett will get your car for you later. You still have the bike hitch on there, yeah?"

I nod, guilty. "Sorry."

She glares.

"I was literally a breath from asking that hot ultrasound tech out when you barged in and acted like my horny life partner."

"What?"

"You said you loved me and kissed me like three times."

"I—" She stops as it dawns. "Well, fuck me."

I laugh at that. "That would not help."

She joins me in amusement and hugs me tight. "I'm sorry. Want me to go back and explain? I'll be sure to mention how much you love dick, and insinuate what an easy lay you are."

"That's incredibly kind," I reply, deadpan, "but I think that ship has sailed."

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

"Was he cute?" she asks as we exit into the parking structure. I stop and stare after her. Cute? He was … perfect.

"You didn't notice?!"

She stops and spins to find me gaping at her. She laughs. "I guess not," she says with a smirk. "Apparently I had tunnelvision for that beautiful baby on the screen."

#

The next week or so, I find myself thinking about Edward a lot. The more I think about it, the more I paranoid I get. How would it look if I'd asked him out? Granted, I'm a surrogate, not a cheater, nor any kind of single mom whose potentially-asshole ex left her high and dry. Even if he doesn't know any of that, I can't convince myself to think he could possibly say yes. What Edward thinks he knows is that I'm a lesbian. Which is an assumption, much like everything in my head about what he thinks about me. If anything.

I am still astounded that I had the courage to flirt at all. Still, there was no way I was digging up the balls to go back and completely humiliate myself by asking him out.

Jesus, STOP IT, Bella. Why can't you obsess over ice cream and pickles like a normal (insane) pregnant woman?

As time ticks by, I do my best to steer my thoughts to something more productive: food, work, and helping Rosalie decorate the nursery. By helping, however, I mean plopping my ever-spreading ass in the glider and offering my Roman empress-like thumbs up or thumbs down to anything from wallpaper or paint colors to artwork and placement of furniture.

Before I know it, I'm ready to pop. The fantasies of my sonogram prince have only gotten worse and invaded my most vivid dreams. I didn't know you could orgasm in your sleep, but it happened. Twice. Last week. It was extra embarrassing because I'd moved in with Rose and Emmett for the end of the pregnancy and apparently it was VERY LOUD. Unfortunately, my gracious friends retaliated by having equally loud sex.

I've still got a week before I hit the due date, so I've promised Rosalie I wouldn't try to induce labor with spicy food or actual sex, though the dreamgasms did actually give her a little worry. I knew I could make the promise because sleep now eludes me since the last time I woke them up praising God in dream-Edward's name. This means, however, that I'm loopy and sometimes not sure whether I'm asleep or awake.

"Bella?"

I snap out of my strange daydream about, what else, being swept off my swollen, a size and a half bigger feet by a certain male nurse. I look up from my barely comfortable spot in Emmett's favorite barcalounger to see Alice staring at me.

"Oh, hey, Alice," I say, and I realize I sound a bit drunk. "What's up?"

"I've been knocking, then shouting as I walked in," she tells me. She giggles. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

I struggle to sit up and eventually flop backward, knowing its futile. Alice pops the button on the side and the chair contracts and folds me in it. She tries and fails not to laugh as she helps me to stand.

"This is embarrassing," I groan.

"The needing help to get out of a chair? Or the daydream?"

I glare at her. "I plead the fifth. But I am tired of feeling like a walrus. And just tired."

She rubs my shoulder with her hand. "Still no sleep?"

"I think I got twenty minutes this morning. An hour or two split up last night. It's ridiculous," I sigh and waddle toward the kitchen. "As soon as I relax and doze, the baby decides it wants to learn gymnastics. Or breakdancing. And let's not talk about how many times an hour I have to pee."

As I get a glass of water, I also grab a grapefruit from the bowl that sits on the counter.

"You don't even like grapefruit," Alice says.

"I KNOW, right? It's the strangest thing to need something you don't even like."

"Or want someone you don't even know?"

I tear into the grapefruit and stop. "What are you talking about?"

"Your Mr. Fancy Scrubpants," she says with a smile.

Goddammit. I told Rose to keep a lid on it. Why do I tell her anything?

I grunt with a mouthful of sour fruit. Alice starts babbling about fate and destiny and all that astrological crap she loves to pore over but I easily tune out. For all I know, she's not even here and I'm hallucinating.

"So let's go."

"Huh?"

"You weren't even listening to me, were you? Don't answer! I know you weren't. We're going to get your man," she declares.

I stare, utterly lost. "I'm sorry, what? I'm going nowhere. I don't even think I've showered in three days."

She rolls her eyes and tells me I better get in the shower now or she'll hose me down in the backyard like an elephant.

"Did you seriously just call me fat?"

She doesn't answer, but points to the hallway leading to the bathroom.

"Fine," I agree. "I have to pee anyway, so I guess I'll wash off while I'm in there."

Once I'm freshly showered, Alice starts throwing clothes at me as if I'm going somewhere. I vaguely remember something about "going to get my man," but I zoned out in the shower. Or possibly, I fell asleep standing up.

"Alice, no. First, look at me. I'm a Macy's parade float!"

"Stop."

"SECOND," I yell, "that was forever ago. He won't even remember me!" I deposit myself on the bed with no intention of moving.

"Barely a month, Bella. Nice try. You're going."

"Did you come all the way over here just to force me on a parade of public humiliation?"

She pretends (or not) to consider the question. "Yes. Okay, not really," she says with a snort. "I'm actually meeting Jasper for lunch at the Mexican place just down the block, but I figured I could force you to talk to Hottie McSexy, RN, on the way. And by on the way, I mean you're invited to join us. Unless Hottie wants to take you to lunch."

She winks and I glare. She glares. I huff. She laughs. I whimper and stick out my lower lip.

"Please," she says, effectively ending my argument.

I slump. "Okay, fine."

I hope Edward is not there, but I also want him to be there. I can't quite decide. Baby kicks me in the kidney and one knee folds. I end up kneeling in prayer position.

It takes at least half an hour to agree on clothes I feel comfortable in while also meeting Alice's standards for leaving the house, let alone stalking a fantasy-man. She graciously ties my hair up into some fancy-looking, but quick 'do and forces a little lip gloss on me. It's chocolate mint-flavored, so I allow it. Over the course of the drive, she hisses at me three separate times trying to stop me from licking it off.

As we park, I feel a cramp in my abdomen. I hiss, and Alice eyeballs me. I shake my head. "I'm okay. No worries."

We head inside and I lag behind. I feel nauseous. I stop just outside the door.

"Bella, let's go."

"I feel sick," I say.

"Nauseated?" she asks, clearly disbelieving. "You're just nervous. I practically had to drag you here!"

I consider the possibility and shrug. "Dammit."

Once inside my stomach starts flipping, almost mimicking what the baby is doing right now — rather uncomfortably, by the way. Immediately, my eyes scan behind the desk for Edward, but I don't see him. I am equal parts relieved and irritated. I put on lip gloss for this. And a bra!

Alice is not about to let me just scan and skate, so she asks my old friend Tanya at the desk about Edward for me.

"Edward Cullen? Oh, no. He just fills in here from time to time," she says, sighing a little. Jesus. "He typically works over at the hospital. His uncle is the chief of surgery there."

I tried to tamper my disappointment, but Alice is watching my face. "Sorry, Bells."

I smile and shrug. "I'm just here for the spicy food. Hopefully I go into la—"

Before I finish the word, labor is exactly what seems to happen when my water breaks in wake of a serious contraction, effectively turning the waiting room into a sanitation hazard. I realize I'd been having small contractions for the past twenty-four hours and thinking they were false alarms. Note to self: NOT FALSE ALARMS.

Despite my initial reaction of panic, the office around me is relatively calm, because this must happen all the time.

"Xander, get the mop. Front lobby," Tanya shouts toward the back. Her tone is tired more than irritated, like she says this a lot.

About an hour and a half later, I'm hooked up to my IV and monitors, set up in a birthing suite that is bigger than my apartment. Emmett really did pull out all the stops. The latest contraction has waned and I wipe the sweat off my forehead with the thin sheet covering me. I'm guessing my hair is well on its way to being a four-story rat's nest by now. I should have told Rose to bring a turban to cover this mess.

I'm about to enjoy the however many minutes I'll have to relax before the next contraction tries to kill me when I hear a voice I don't exactly want to hear right now.

"Bella?"

You're fucking kidding me. Of all the possible times... I look over at the doorway to confirm that yes, in fact, it is Edward standing there.

"Fuck a duck," I say.

He chokes on a laugh. "I'm sorry?"

"I mean, really. First, I look like a cheating flirty lesbian and now I look like the missing link in heat. I just can't win!" I sound delirious, which, if we're being honest, can only be a positive in this particular situation.

His face scrunches up into some beautiful confusion as he steps further into the room, picking up my chart from the bed frame. "I… I have no idea what you're talking about, but you do not, under any circumstances, look like the missing link. You look like a woman in labor."

He scans over the intake nurse's scrawlings and reads aloud, "Dilated to four and a half, so far. OK, Bella, that's looking good. Hopefully, you'll progress quickly. We'll check you again in the next half hour or so."

"Please don't look at my vagina."

"What?"

"I'm not a lesbian."

His eyes bulge. "Okay."

"I'm just telling you because —"

"Baby time!" Rosalie bursts in, bags of clothes (mostly for the newborn she'll take home) and other necessities in hand.

"If you kiss me right now, I WILL KILL YOU!" I yell, pointing at her with both hands forming a time out… or a cross, as though she were the devil. I think the drugs are kicking in.

The room stills, silent but for the heart monitors. I start crying. I'm embarrassed and freaked out and more embarrassed. Rosalie sets down her armful of provisions on the love seat by the window and crosses back to me.

"Please don't touch me!" I screech. "Just… just stop for a second, okay? Another contraction is going to level my uterus in a minute and I just want to finish what I was trying to say."

I volley my gaze to Edward, who looks petrified. Clearly, there is no possible chance with this man, so it's time for brutal honesty. Well, more of it.

"I like you. I wanted to ask you out, but… well, as is my life, shit happens. This baby is not mine—it's Rosalie's. That is, I'm a surrogate for her and Emmett. I mean, they're two of my best friends and … OK, you don't need that whole story, but, yeah. There, I said it. That was easy," I ruminate aloud to myself. "These drugs rock."

"You're not on any drugs, Bella," Edward says, and I feel my stomach fall out of my ass.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"We haven't given you anything but a saline drip," he tells me, smiling crookedly.

"Dandy." I fall back against the bed. "I'd like to order some, please. Drugs, that is. Knock me out, if possible."

Rosalie has a Smirky McSmirkerson expression on her face when she announces, "I'm going to make sure Emmett can find the room okay," and almost sprints from the room. Edward, however, stays put. He stares at the floor before walking toward the bed.

"Bella, I like you, too."

"It's okay. I'm mental. You don't have—wait, did you say you like me? Like, how do you mean? Like like? Or just, 'hey, we can hang out.'" I'm not even sure that made sense.

He laughs and picks up my hand. The monitor beeps faster. "Like like."

I swipe at my face with my free hand. "Really?"

"Really."

"But, I'm, like, disgusting right now."

"That's not what I see."

I sigh. "Yay. I don't even care if you're lying." He grins. I'm done for.

"And I knew you were a surrogate."

"I'm sorry, wait. You knew?" I am, at once, irrationally pissed. I feel my eyes glow with fury like some supernatural demon. "Are you telling me you like me now because I'm homicidally pregnant? That's totally uncool and I will get a not guilty verdict if it goes to trial."

His head is shaking and the smile isn't going anywhere. "How about I give you my phone number, and when you feel up to it, and you've recovered, you call me. Then I can take you out to dinner?"

"Sounds like heLL ON EARTH!" My voice shifts midsentence from stunned glee to Satan's voiceover artist. A hard and fast contraction barrels through me from the center outward through the very tips of my limbs. "No, wait… I… OH FUCK FUCK SHIT DAMN PISS."

This is the worst one yet and Edward, bless his nursey heart, doesn't miss a beat. He immediately grabs my hand and hunkers down next to me. Quietly, he talks me through it, reminding me to breathe, and breathing with me. He's calm, soothing and miraculously manages to keep me from crushing his fingers to dust. A few minutes later, I realize how embarrassed I am to look at him again. I keep my eyes closed as I pant like an overheated Labrador Retriever.

"You did great, Bella," he says, the liar. "So great. I'm going to get another L&D nurse to check on you in a few, okay?"

"I scared you away from my vagina, didn't I?" Christ. I'm becoming a hermit after this.

Edward leans his head on the mattress next to my arm and laughs. They're full, hearty, shaking-the-bed laughs. When he stands up, he wipes tears from his eyes. "Were I a lesser man, you would have. But I like you."

"So now you're all that? A more-er man?" I cringe. "I shouldn't speak aloud right now."

Still chuckling, he stands. "I don't know about that, but regardless, you haven't scared me. Not yet." He winks.

"You're not lying to pacify a hormonal preggo in labor?"

Squeezing my hand one more time, he shakes his head. "I never do."

#X#

"And that," I say, wrapping up the story before I can get to the near-disaster of the first date, "is how I met your father."

Madelyn's expression is unsure, possibly grossed out. "You could have spared some details, Mom."

"I was hoping to inject a little birth control advice this way," I tell her. She is sixteen now.

"Hey," Edward says, walking in the door with our gourmet feast for the evening, a deep dish pizza. I smile at him, every bit in the smit that I've been for the past eighteen years. "My baby girl doesn't need that kind of advice for at least twenty more years."

Maddie laughs and jumps up from the couch. "What if I'm a lesbian, Dad?"

Edward stills, purses his lips and winks at me. "Then I'm sending you to aunt Rosalie's for expert advice."

A/N: Thanks to MrsTheKing for betafying, and to Meet the Mate hosts, Sri & Anton M, judges BellaFlan, DaCherry, LyricalKris, and Nolebucgrl. Also snogs for all the readers who got a laugh and reviewed.

There is potential for continuation — at the very least, the "near-disaster" first date. No timeframe at this point, but follow the story if you'd like to be notified! :D