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The two sick days from work were not enough for James. He still felt fatiqued and little appetite...he begged for the rest of the week off. The school secretary informed James that the principal would need to approve such a leave of absence...but he could have the additional sick day. The principal will call you later this evening...she's in meetings with the school district all day., the secretary told James.

As he hung up the telephone, James sighed and leaned against the kitchen counter. The thought of going to work the next day made him feel totally drained. He thought to sleep the day away but he shook his head to resist the thought. Maybe he should go to Charles and Felicity's...he had spent a wonderful afternoon with them several days ago. James smiled as recalled holding little Sara. She was a bright eyed toddler now, with a sweet smile...Sara forced one to smile. He watched as she showed off her skills with the xylophone...James could not help but laugh as she giggled with every note she struck. He remember giving into Sara's pleas to read to her...James did not feel right about this. This was something a parent should do...but Felicity urged him with a warm smile and kind words to do it. Reluctantly, James sat down on the floor and took the book Sara chose. As he read to her, James glanced up now and then to see Charles and Felicity, seated on a sofa together, his brother's arm lovingly around his wife's shoulder...smiling proudly.

Closing his eyes tightly...pushing away from the kitchen counter, James stood tall as he felt his eyes fill with tears. He sniffled and grimaced. What the Hell is wrong with me, he said to himself.

"I've never been this emotional.", he whispered with a hiss.

James suddenly heard his father come through the front door. He did not want to have his father see him in such an emotional state. James quickly and quietly hurried out a side door and sought refuge in spare house, which was now their music room.

His father, John, soon found him. James tried to hide his displeasure of his father's wanting to join in his music session. James only wanted solitude...but he did not say a word as his father took up the bass guitar and joined him.

John: I'm getting better at this.

James: Ah...well...yes, you are, Papa. *wince*

Suddenly the door flew open and the little penguin waddled through. The chill James felt was not from the cold air rushing in...but the chill of fear. That ungodly creature appeared moments before he was abducted by the deviant Strangers.

James: Get the Hell out of here...you little bastard!

John: I'll shoo him off. I wish I had a gun...that would take care of the problem, permanently.

The chilly fear still hung on as James continued to play.

Suddenly, the chill gave way to a stabbing pain in his belly...

James: OMG! Papa! OMG!

The pain felt as though a fiery hot needle had been plunged into him.

The pain spread over his hips and thighs...James felt his knees quiver.

The pain was becoming unbearable. James fought back tears.

The pain was now radiating through his entire body A hot and prickling pain flowed over every inch of his skin...James felt as though his blood was on fire and his knees felt as though they would give away under him.

James: OMG!!!! PAPA!!!!!!! HELP ME!!!!!

John: For Heaven's sake James...what are you are screaming about?

James: Papa...kill me or take me to the hospital! I feel like I'm on fire! I think I am going to die! *gasp*

John: Oh...well...it's starting to snow. I don't like driving in such weather.

James: Oh Christ's sake...then just kill me!

John: Kill you? That's rather a drastic measure, I....OMG! The seat of your breeches is bulging!!

James: Oh God! I think I'm going to crap myself! *gasp*

John: Then get yourself to the bathroom! Explosive diarrhea is not pretty...and Papa doesn't want to clean it up.

James: Shit...I can hardly stand...let alone walk, old man!!!

James: Whoa. The pain suddenly disappeared. WTH?!

John: The bulge in the seat of pants is still there...and getting bigger. You don't feel anything?

John: Oh Lord...I don't believe what I am seeing. *saysprayer*

James: Oooooooooohhhhh myyyyyyyyy God!

James: Eck!

John: I don't believe...I really don't believe it...I....ah...

Rebekkah: What happened?

John: James just pulled an infant out of his ass...without taking his breeches off. *grimace*

Anna: What happened...what did John say?

Rebekkah: James pulled a baby out of his ass without taking his pants off.

Anna: Yeah...right. John, you can do better than that!!

John: No, my dear! I'm serious!

Anna: Holy shit.

Rebekkah: Ew...James needs to bathe that baby...it's covered with green stuff.

John: James? Do you know what just happened?

James: I pulled a baby out of my ass? I'm a father?

John: This is how the Strangers enlightened you, my son.

James: Really? I would have rather had been enlightened the way you were, Papa.

James: You are the most disgusting thing I have seen in my entire life.

Alien Baby, in telepathy: I feel the same way about you, sir.

James: Did you just talk to me?

Alien Baby, in telepathy: Yeah.

James: Wait a minute...you're a baby!

Alien Baby, in telepathy: Very astute...I'm also your son....aaand an alien.

James: Okay...this is too strange.

Alien Baby, in telepathy: Take a deep breath...I'm going to greet you.

James: Huh?!

Alien Baby, in telepathy: Greetings, father. I am your son...you shall name me...Aquila.

James: I will?

Alien Baby, in telepathy: Yes. I am the Eagle.

James: Whatever...Aquila. If it makes you happy.

Rebekkah: Is James talking to the baby...like it...understands?

John: *backs away* Hmmmm. It appears so.

Rebekkah: James? Do you want to bathe the baby...get that green stuff off it?

James: Huh?

John: Rebekkah? That is color of its skin.

Rebekkah: Are you sure?

John: Very sure. James? May I hold my grandbaby?

James: Certainly. It's a boy, by the way.

John: How do you know? Did you check under the diaper?

James: No...he told me. I have no reason to think he would lie about such a thing.

John: The baby told you?

James: Yes. Didn't you hear him?

Rebekkah: James, are you okay?

John: This child has done nothing but coo and burp since its arrival, James.

James: I swear...that child spoke to me. Say something, Aquila.

Aquila: *burf*

John: Rebekkah, would you do me a favor and call a physician.

James: Why? You don't think the baby's well? What's wrong with him? Besides...ah.

Aquila, in telepathy: Don't let her go, father. I want her to hold me. She's pretty...and has boobs.

James: AH! Did you hear that?! Aquila wants Rebekkah to hold him because she has breasts!

John: Rebekkah? Please hurry.

Aquila: WAAAAAAA!!

John: There...there, my little one. Your father is scaring me, too.

James: Oh, come on! He's crying because Rebekkah left.

John: James! Stop it. This child is not speaking.

James: God. Maybe I am losing my mind. I swear, Papa. I hear words coming from that baby.

John: Every father's dream, my son.

Aquila: *coo*

Alexander: This must be the reason Rebekkah's on the telephone.

John: Alexander, this is your nephew.

Alexander: Yeeah.

Alexander: You are one strange looking baby.

Aquila, in telepathy: You are calling me strange...with a haircut like that?

James: Alex? You're insulting him...he doesn't like it.

Alexander: How do you know? Peek-a-boo, little freak.

John: Alexander. Don't talk that way to the baby.

Alexander: I said it with a smile...he doesn't have a clue.

Aquila, in telepathy: Just you wait. When I become a child...I will have powers.

James: Oh God! Alex. Stop it. Aquila's getting angry.

Alexander: Are you getting mad at your Uncle Alex? Oooo...be gentle with me.

John: Alexander! Pay him no mind, little one.

Aquila, in telepathy: You are sooo going to feel the pain, Uncle Alex.

James: Aquila! No.

James: You really need to quit that, brother.

Alexander: What? Is going to seek revenge on me? *wigglesfingers* Are you?

Aquila: queeeeee.

James: Ah...he...I don't like it. Don't pick on him.

Alexander: Soooo...this is how the Strangers enlightened you? Impregnated you?

John: The Strangers do not impregnate...they pollinate.

James: That's a polite way of explaining it, Papa. I don't see this as enlightening, Alex.

Alexander: I can understand why you would think that. By the way...why did you name him...Aquila?

James: He told me to.

Alexander: Well...very alright. Well, congratulations...and I'm going to see how Rebekkah's coming along with that telephone call.

James: Thanks.

Anna: Rebekkah is unable to get a physician to come to the house. What the Hell is that?

John: My grandson. James gave birth.

Anna: You're kidding.

Anna: That is the strangest infant I have ever seen.

Aquila, in telepathy: You people need to look in the mirror.

John: James has named him "Aquila".

Anna: There's nothing aquiline about this child. His eyes are rather dreamy.

Aquila: Gheeeee.

John: We need not speak of this, my dear....to the townsfolk.

Anna: But...I can tell Felicity and Charles? What about the phone call to the physician?

John. If you must, tell them. Regarding the physician? If anyone asks, we shall say that Rebekkah was struck with moment of madness.

James gathered up Aquila from his father's arms. An irresistable urge to hold his son overwhelmed him. He left the chatter regarding his son's name....the color of his skin...his odd eyes...the groans of how Aquila resembled the mysterious Stranger on the road to the city. If he heard his father speak once more regarding Aquila's birth being a wondrous enlightenment, James would have screamed and, probably, become violent.

Wandering into the kitchen, James held his son and felt all his anger slip away.

As strange as he appeared...as sorted the events which brought him into his life, James could not help but feel nothing but love for his Aquila as he cuddled and kissed his little boy. As he held the infant, James kept waiting for his son to speak him....speak to his mind...but nothing came. Nothing but a wondrously warm feeling.

His father called for an end to the evening...it was time to retire. John and Alexander had pulled out a crib stored in the attic...rearranged a room...created a nursery, of sorts, for little Aquila.

James had reluctantly surrendered Aquila to his father. The old man set to putting the boy to bed. James had appeared to be exhausted...he put up a weak argument in handing Aquila to John. Get your rest, he told James.

John: And you must get your rest, little one.

Aquila struggled with a want to speak to the mind of the one who called himself Grandpa...but the alien infant had an uneasy feeling about this. The old man spoke in support of him but could he be trusted.

John: This room is going to be your home, from now on.

John: No one must see him. My God! What would people think? The town would not be prepared for such thing. Not now.

Aquila, in thought: I knew it!


( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Jul. 19th, 2007 06:33 pm (UTC)
OMG, this is so f*cked up. I have no idea how to respond to this. Alien abduction and impregnation, men giving birth out their a** to green alien babies. This is isn't going where you want it to go at all, is it?

Or is it? Who's running the show, you or the computer?
Jul. 19th, 2007 06:50 pm (UTC)
Eeee! Okay. *takesdeepbreath* One of the risks with a male Sim being abducted...is they might get pregnant. I was keeping my fingers crossed it WOULD NOT happen...but it did. I could have used a cheat and aborted/miscarried the pregnancy, but I didn't have the heart to do it. I wanted the aliens to be mix of good and bad and an outside influence...I hadn't planned on one physically entering the story. It happened, though, and I have to deal with it. I guess I could have manipulated the snapshots to leave Aquila out...ignore him, play him...and then have him enter the story later on. I don't know.

As for the pulling a baby out of his ass, that's what it looked like to me.

Who's running the show? Me and the crazy computer. We both apologize.

Jul. 20th, 2007 04:27 pm (UTC)
Okay. Whatever happens happens. Even the best writers can't control their own story sometimes.
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )


Colonial Sims - A Wacky Crossover of Time.

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