Lucy sputters as she desperately tries to dislodge the chocolate that now coats her windpipe. She’s not choking, evident by the fact that she’s breathing, but she definitely got a nasty case of “down the wrong tube”. She attempts to cough as quietly as she can while straining to continue listening to the phone call, her eyes wide with shock. “Mr. Moose? Are you there?” The voice of the woman who identified herself as Angela clues me in that I’ve been sitting silently for several moments as everything processes. “Y-yes! I’m here, sorry! I, uhh…” I stare at the phone, unsure of what to say. “Will tomorrow at 10 AM work for you and Lucy to come in and get your viability tests performed?” Frozen by the suddenness of everything, I turn to Lucy. She takes steady breaths as she regains her composure from the assault performed on her windpipe by her chocolate treat. She awaits my response with a look of anxiety. I wish that she was nodding furiously at me or exclaiming her approval, but the combination of surprise and chocolate throat annihilation seem to have her flummoxed. I look from her to the phone, then to her again, then to the phone again. Fuck it. We ball. “Y-yes! That will work! We’ll be there!” Lucy croaks out an excited yip as Angela replies, “Wonderful! I’ll pencil you in and send you an email in a few minutes with some preliminary paperwork you can fill out as well as what you’ll need to do to prepare. See you tomorrow!” With that, the line goes silent, followed only by the familiar triplicate tones signifying the call has officially ended. The phone slides out of my hand and lands on the couch beside me with a small thud. I slowly turn to face Lucy. She’s staring at me and taking small, rapid breaths as her pupils dilate. Her tail swings back and forth as her wings involuntarily extend outwards. Her legs begin bouncing up and down as she brings her hands up to her mouth and squeaks out what are presumably English words: “Ohmygodicantbelieveitweregonnagoinforourviabilityteeeeests!!” While I wish I could say that I was the pinnacle of male stability and reason, swooping Lucy into my arms and romantically reassuring her with a passionate kiss… this was simply not the case. Instead, I opt to spring to my feet and pace around the room, ears glowing bright red as I attempt to speedrun my overflowing sentiments. “Okay it’s time for the viability tests I thought it was gonna be a few weeks away but it’s tomorrow now and we gotta get ready what do we need to do where’s that email they were gonna send I don’t know what to do was I supposed to chill my balls for real I thought it was a joke but now I’m not sure Lucy were you supposed to be doing something before the tests why is it so soon all of a sudden and where’s that email?!” As I replace the air I expended with my run-on sentence, Lucy continues making excited chirps that only somewhat resemble coherent speech as her cheeks glow brighter and her tail threatens to detach from her body. She outstretches her arms towards me, unable to stand from the couch as her feet continue dancing uncontrollably on the ground, and she whimpers in a half-laugh, half-cry. “Anooooooon!” In a brief moment of clarity, I take the hint, diving across the room and into her arms. “Lucy! Oh my God, the tests are tomorrow!” She cries out as I bring her into a tight hug; we rock back and forth in each other’s arms as we share in our mutual, incoherent celebration. After a few minutes, we regain some semblance of sanity. Lucy still fights off the adrenaline rush, letting out an odd sort of frenetic giggle every few breaths. I manage to bring myself to a mostly even keel, still holding Lucy close but beginning to process everything rationally. I speak up. “... Here we go, getting all worked up again when we aren’t actually sure of anything. Remember back in the car?” She brings her eyes up to meet mine, her form still held close to my own in our embrace. “Y-yeah… I told you I wanted to have a baby… and we both lost it!” She laughs again, still shaking from her overwhelming emotions. I touch my forehead to hers. “And tomorrow we’ll find out for sure whether we can.” She shudders. “Oh, God… Anon… I want this so badly…” “Me too, Lucy. But no matter what happens… I will always love you.” “I lov-” She only gets part way through repeating my sentiment before she pushes her lips to my own. Our breath is heavy and our passion aflame as we lose one another in our kiss. She digs her claws into the back of my shirt as I run my fingers through her hair, tracing the silhouette of her head with my movements. My hands work their way downward, moving past her shoulders and down her form, caressing the joints where her wings meet her back. She lets out a gasp, followed by mumbled encouragement as we continue passionately exploring one another. The greedy notion of chocolate hoarding she held just a few minutes ago has all but vanished as enraptured bliss overtakes us both. My hands descend even further, coming to rest on her hips. In response, she pushes forward with a heave, tipping me over onto the couch. She straddles me as our kiss intensifies greatly, shifting rapidly to one of frenzied desire. As she scrambles to unfasten my pants, a strange shape vibrates in the flat of my back. At first I ignore it, opting instead to help guide Lucy’s hands in their quest of discovery, but realization suddenly floods over me. I hesitantly pull myself away from Lucy’s lips; she blinks at me in confusion as I squeeze my arm between my back and the couch to withdraw my phone. I click the power button and hold my finger to the fingerprint sensor to unlock the device. “... Oh! OH, the email! From the clinic!” Her eyes widen rapidly and she scoots back, allowing me to sit up. She leans over, putting her head right next to mine to read the email along with me: From: angela@volcalderavc.org To: anon.mous02@gruumail.com Subject: Regarding your Appointment Nov. 10th Hello Mr. and Mrs. Mous, Thanks for accepting the appointment adjustment! We’re glad you’ll be coming in tomorrow! Please see below for a “to-do” list in preparation of your viability tests: Fill out the attached forms and email them back to complete pre-registration Do not drink alcohol, smoke tobacco or take any drugs for 24 hours prior to your appointment Avoid sexual activity for 24 hours prior to your appointment Herbivores, do not ingest cypress vine for 24 hours prior to your appointment Dinosaurs and pterosaurs, do not ingest lemon poppy seed muffins for 24 hours prior to your appointment Thank you and we look forward to seeing you at 10 AM! Angela Morton Receptionist Volcaldera Viability Clinic I turn to Lucy with a relieved sigh. “Phew… okay, that doesn’t seem too bad. We can get the paperwork done and we should be good to go!” Lucy’s still-reddened cheeks flush a shade deeper. “Um…” She pokes my phone screen with her claw, calling attention to the middle-most bullet point: Avoid sexual activity for 24 hours prior to your appointment. Her eyes avert to the side. I look from the phone to her, then down at my own half-unzipped pants and half-unearthed manhood. “Whoops.” I quickly return everything to its holstered position, hearing Lucy make a small, flustered huff. I echo her sentiment. “Rules are rules. At least after tomorrow we’ll-” I cut myself off as Lucy’s eyes meet my own, widened with realization. We both had the same thought at the same time. She speaks up first. “... 24 hours? When did… when did we make love this morning?” I feel my ears redden at her words. Despite the fact that we’ve been married for nearly a month and physically intimate with one another even before that, I still get goosebumps when that particular phrase is uttered. I glance at my watch to remind myself that time, in fact, still exists. “Um… we woke up at about 9:15… so it was around then?” Her cheeks brighten further. “O-oh. So we’re… probably okay then. Probably.” She glances away, unable to maintain eye contact with me as she takes in small, rapid breaths to steady her heartbeat. My ears practically light on fire. Neither of us are slouches in the sack, so there’s a very real possibility we… went past the 10 AM mark. I quickly stand from the couch and begin pacing to cool my own jets. “We’re fine! I’m sure it’s fine! No big deal, they always say a bigger number than they mean! It probably only requires 12 hours or something-” At this, I see Lucy shoot me a look out of the corner of my eye. Her gaze is equal parts questioning and lustful. I straighten up my back and pace faster. “UMMM but we probably shouldn’t push our luck! Let’s… let’s get that paperwork done! Yeah! Paperwork!” That’ll work! Paperwork isn’t sexy! It’s boring! Yeah, stupid boring paperwork, with a perfectly normal pterodactyl woman to whom I happen to be married in a dress suit that hugs every contour of her body exquisitely, wrapping around her beautifully sculpted form with elegance and precision. She bends over to gather some stupid boring paperwork from a desk, extending her rear towards me as she does so. Noticing my stare, she peeks over her shoulder at me, blushing and giggling and God damnit, stupid sexy paperwork! You’ve failed me just like baseball did! Glancing over at the non-fantasy Lucy who remains seated on the couch, I see only her wings which are drawn tightly around her body to shield her furious blushing from my view. She fidgets slightly, letting out muffled whimpers as she fights her own internal battle over what I hope is an even manlier, handsomer version of me filing my own set of stupid sexy paperwork. I know I should be overwhelmed with joy that we’ve got our viability tests tomorrow, but man oh man did this timing ever make things awkward for two horny newlyweds. We mutually agree to go for a quick walk prior to filling out the paperwork, hoping the cool air will alleviate some of the lingering heat. Though our jaunt begins uncomfortably as we keep a few feet apart from one another and avert our eyes, we manage to clear away the lustful thoughts with the help of the fresh air and pleasant autumn weather. By the time we reach the turnabout point of our walk, I clear my throat to break the silence. “Um… we’ve obviously got the viability tests tomorrow, but… did you think about that picnic I offered to take you on?” Lucy flits her eyes at me. “Oh! I’d… forgotten, sorry.” She glances down. “How long do you think the tests will take?” I scratch my chin. “Dunno. I can’t imagine they’d go longer than an hour or two.” She takes a deep breath. “... Depending on what we hear, I don’t know how interested I’ll be in a picnic…” At this, I cock my head. “Will we even get the results tomorrow? These are medical tests, they might take several days or even weeks to come back.” Lucy’s head snaps in my direction, her expression one of worry. “Erm… I mean, tests these days can be pretty fast, but I have no clue how long it’ll realistically take for us to get the results for something like this.” She glances down again, letting out a sigh. I step closer to her and take her hand in mine; she instantly interlaces her fingers with my own and closes the distance between us further, unconsciously extending her wing to embrace me as we walk. I give her a gentle smile. “If nothing else, a picnic could help take your mind off things. We can enjoy a little more pleasant fall weather and I can show you a really nice spot I found.” This piques her interest. “Oh? Where is that?” “You’ll have to join me to find out.” She gives me a little nudge with her elbow as she smiles at me. “Fine, then. Keep your secrets.” She looks forward. “... I think a picnic after our appointment sounds nice.” Once we arrive back home, we take a closer look at the attachments on the email. A total of three forms are included: one for the both of us, one for me and one for Lucy. The form for both of us is pretty straight-forward. Names, address, birthdates, SSNs, species, when we were married, when we became sexually active with one another, and whether either of us have had children already, together or otherwise. After we complete the joint form, I opt to forward the email to Lucy so that she can fill out her woman-specific paperwork on her device at the same time that I handle the paperwork assigned to me. My form is also relatively simple: basic information, family health history (thankfully, “male pattern baldness” isn’t listed), personal medical history, recent health concerns and hospital visits… … Oh no. I quickly turn to Lucy who stares at her phone in fear. Her fingers shake uncontrollably, unable to type in the answer to the same question on her own form. I set my phone down and place my hands on hers; she jolts upright and her panicked eyes meet mine. “Anon… my… I don’t…” I grasp her hands tighter, steadying her trembling. “Lucy, it’ll be okay. Everything’s gonna be fine.” I think for a moment. I can reassure her all I want, but I don’t know for certain that her recent hospital visit won’t have an impact on these viability tests. She was discharged with a clean bill of health and has been fine for the past day and a half… but it’s still only been a day and a half. I take a deep breath. If anyone will be able to answer this question for us, it’ll be the viability clinic. “All we can do right now is fill in the paperwork honestly and to the best of our ability. We’ll find out tomorrow what it means for us.” Her hands still tremble and her breath quivers, but she meets my gaze with one of resoluteness. She nods to me, and I gently take her phone from her hands to help complete the form. Under the section “Recent health concerns and hospital visits”, I begin typing: Admitted to Volcaldera West emergency room on Monday, November 6th for accidental overdose of Trimipramine. Recovered on Tuesday, Nov. 7th, and discharged on Wednesday, Nov. 8th. I also include the information for her primary care physician who was passed all of her chart info so that the folks at the viability clinic can request whatever they need from them. As I complete the question, Lucy wraps her hands around my arm and puts her head against my shoulder. Her silver hair drapes across my back as she shivers. I do my best to comfort her, bringing my hand up to her shoulder and kissing her forehead. She inhales sharply in response, trembling once more as she tightens her grip on my arm. She slowly exhales, then inhales just as slowly, repeating this process several times to calm her nerves. It was one of the recommended exercises from the self-harm material we were going through earlier. It also reminds me of when I was at the hospital and did the exact same thing after retreating from the comfort Ripley and Samantha offered me. Outside of the sliding glass doors of the front entrance, I wanted to scream, but instead I simply focused on my breathing. When the entire world feels like it’s crashing down around you, sometimes all it takes is breathing to set your mind straight. After a few minutes, Lucy calms down enough to loosen her grip on my arm and straighten up on the couch next to me. She looks up, meeting my eyes. “... Thanks for being patient with me.” I smile at her. “Anytime.” She lowers her head slightly, sliding a hand across the side of her head to reposition her hair that had fallen out of place while offering a small smile of her own. Her eyes sparkle as she gazes up at me. She is beautiful. I have to consciously fight against my urge to pull her into a kiss, worried that it may escalate to more when we must abstain from such acts until after tomorrow morning. I clear my throat as I pick her phone up again, coming back to the form. “Okay! Uhh… let’s take a look at the next question. ‘When was your last menstrual cycle?’” I pause. “... Mine… mine didn’t have this question.” At this, she lets out a giggle. “I’d hope not. Give it here, I’ll take care of the rest.” I oblige, handing the phone back to her and returning to my own to finish my paperwork. After a few minutes, we submit the three completed documents back to the clinic. An automated email rapidly arrives in my inbox, informing me that the forms have been received successfully. With our task completed, I set my phone down and turn once more to Lucy. “Well, that’s that. We should be all set for tomorrow.” She acknowledges my words with a small nod, but doesn’t say anything. We sit together in silence for a moment before I scratch the back of my head. “We still got a few hours to kill before bed. Anything you wanna do?” She considers for a moment before gently shaking her head. “I just want to distract myself. I don’t even know how I’m gonna get to sleep tonight.” I smirk. “Well, if the last time I tried to show you the Saturnia anime was any indication, I’ve got a sure-fire way to conk you out.” She lets out a giggle. “Yeah, that was awful. I don’t know what you see in that dumb series.” I flare my eyes playfully. “I’m a very patient man, but there are some lines you do not cross!” “Oh, dear! An angry anime nerd, what ever will I do?” “Alright, that’s it. We’re watching the whole thing. Let’s go.” She giggles as I grab her by the wrist and lead her to the bedroom. Her protests and playful swats at me do not grant her release from my justice. I guide her to her spot on the bed, scoop up the remote and power on our streaming box. She feigns irritation, smiling as she grumbles at me. “This is payback for making you watch that rom-com, isn’t it?” “You’re damn right it is, now siddown and shaddap, Saturnia deserves the utmost respect!” We both laugh as I search up the show and hit the “Play” button. We cozy into our regular spots and enjoy the campy yet charming anime, choosing to suffer through the atrocious dub for added comedic value. Despite how near and dear Saturnia is to my heart, even this show isn’t safe from our peanut gallery antics as we relentlessly mock its lackluster plot and horrible pacing. We take a break several episodes in to get some dinner in us, though the ‘leftover fatigue’ is really starting to set in now. I suppose it beats having to make something ourselves, especially with the pressure of our upcoming commitment. Once we finish our meal and clean up, we’re back on our science-fiction anime shlock adventure. Despite her earlier protests, Lucy makes it all the way through the show, and as the credits roll on the awkward final episode that ended with a cliffhanger for a second season that was never produced, it’s late enough for us to call it a night. She lets out an impressive yawn as I turn off the TV. “Okay, I’ve suffered through your Saturnia show. Please never make me watch it again.” I glance over my shoulder at her. “That depends entirely on how well you do on the test. If you fail my class, you’re repeating, and the grade required to pass is quite high.” She groans. “Nooo! Don’t make me do it!” We chuckle as we get changed into our pajamas, turn off the lights and tuck ourselves into bed. As I bring my head down to my pillow, I stare up at the darkened ceiling. Only a bit of moonlight peeks through the blinds of our bedroom window, illuminating only the faintest traces of the room. I let out a small sigh, once again feeling the sting of having to abstain from doing that thing I really wanna do with my wife, but I’ll live. Besides, we only have to hold off until after the tests. I hear Lucy rustling next to me. After a moment, she speaks up. “Hey, Anon.” I glance over. She’s laying on her side, looking at me; I match her posture, shifting to my side to face her. “What’s up?” “Have you…” She hesitates. “... Have you given any thought to… a name?” “A name?” “... For our baby. If… if we can…” I smile at her, though I don’t know how well she can make out my expression in the darkness. “Well, are we having a boy or a girl?” She giggles. “Well, I don’t know that.” “Would you prefer to have one or the other?” I can tell that she shakes her head slightly as my eyes adjust to the darkness a bit more. “I would love to have either. Or both.” “Hey, now. Don’t go getting Rosa ideas. Twins are twice the blessing, but twice the work.” She giggles again. “How about triplets?” “You settle down with that talk.” She speaks up again after our laughter dies down. “If we have a boy, what would you want to name him?” “I told you before: Anon Jr.” “And I told you no!” I feign upset. “What am I, chopped liver?!” She giggles again, then lets out a sigh. “... I was thinking that ‘Noah’ would be a good name.” “You mean like the guy with that big boat and all the animals?” “No, you dweeb! … Well, kinda. I just like the sound of it!” I consider it. “... Okay, I suppose that is a better name than Anon Jr.” She closes her hands around mine as she smiles at me. “What if we have a girl?” My vision has adjusted enough to make out her form fully. Through the gentle, luminescent beams that sneak past the blinds, her beautiful eyes sparkle. Her diamond pupils contract ever so slightly as she gazes lovingly at me. The eyes that I’ve seen smile, laugh, cry, fear, hurt and love… their unmatched amber brilliance is evident even in the soft moonlight. I return her smile with one of my own. “I think I have an idea for a name.” — Though sleep didn’t claim us instantly, we eventually found our way to the land of sugar plum fairies and numerated sheep. Thankfully, no remnants of my time overseas knocked upon the door to my dreamscape, so my wake-up call consists only of my phone’s alarm thrumming until I silence it. As I blink away the residual sleepiness, I feel Lucy stir from her usual resting spot, face planted directly on my chest. She lifts her head, smacking her lips as the usual tendril of drool disconnects from her mouth, and looks groggily at me. “G’morning, An-” Her eyes suddenly widen. “... The viability tests!” I smile at her. “We’ve got plenty of time.” My words don’t calm her. She whips the covers off of both of us, flinging herself out of bed and hustling to the bathroom. “We’ve gotta get ready! Anon, get out of bed! We have the viability tests!” I glance at my phone again. Sure enough, it’s not even 8 AM yet, and our appointment isn’t until 10 AM. All the same, I figured something like this might happen. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stretch my back, glancing over through the bathroom door. Lucy is performing a relatively impressive feat as she simultaneously turns on the shower, gets undressed, brushes her teeth and brushes her hair all at the same time. I smirk. “Hey, uh… you might wanna brush your hair after you take your shower.” She speaks through a mouth full of toothpaste. “Shub ub we bonna be labe!” I shrug. What do I know? I let her perform her intricate morning dance as I head to the kitchen and rustle up some breakfast. Leftover surprise again? Well, at least we’re actually making a dent in the food at this point, and there’s no reason to let it go to waste. By the time I start adding items to the pan, Lucy comes barreling out of the bedroom. She’s still wrapped in a towel, mostly dripping wet from her very fast shower and looking frazzled. “Anon, get in the shower! We gotta go, we’re gonna be late!” Alright, it was cute before, but now I should probably step in. I take Lucy by her still sopping wet shoulders and look her in the eyes. Though she still seems frenetic, she meets my gaze. “Lucy, calm down. We’ve got plenty of time, we’re not going to be late.” She opens her mouth to protest before I cut her off. “Lucy. We’re okay. Take a breath, calm down, and go dry off properly. I’ll be in the shower in a few minutes once we have breakfast, okay?” She holds my locked gaze for a moment before she takes a slow, deep breath and exhales just as slowly. She repeats it a few more times as she closes her eyes. After a moment, she looks up at me with slight embarrassment. “... I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I raise my eyebrows. “I do. You’re excited. I’m excited, too. We’ll be there before you know it. Go ahead and get dried off, brush your hair and we’ll have some breakfast.” She nods at me and turns back towards the bedroom, immediately stepping in a puddle of water of her doing in the hallway. “Oh, crap. Sorry…” She tip-toes past the puddle to the linen closet and grabs another towel to dry off the floor. I grin as I stir the contents of the frying pan and add some seasoning. “It’s okay, honey. I always said it’d be nice if we had a pool.” “Shut up!” Though she protests, I can hear the smile in her words. With breakfast ready to go, I set two plates at the table as a properly dry and dressed Lucy rejoins me in the kitchen. We eat at a pace a little faster than “leisurely” but not quite to the levels of “scarfing” as Lucy’s nerves are calmed but not entirely dissolved. She waves me towards the bathroom as she clears our places; I follow her orders, taking care of my own shower and personal hygiene ritual with a little hustle in my step. While I get dressed, she sits at the foot of the bed, hands folded in her lap as she watches me make myself presentable. She doesn’t say anything, but I see her wings nervously twitch every few moments. I glance at my watch as I affix it to my wrist, noting that it’s nearly 9 AM. Turning to Lucy with my final wardrobe presentation, she springs off the bed to her feet. “Ready to go?!” I cock my eyebrow. “Lucy…” In response, she dances on her tip-toes and shakes her hands at her sides, letting out a whining sound as she does so. My eyebrow ascends further. “I thought we were looking at having a baby, not at you becoming one.” Her whining continues, punctuated by words this time. “Stooooop! I wanna gooooo!” This woman, I swear. “Alright! Alright, let’s go! We’ll be sitting in the waiting room for a while.” In response to my words, she immediately ceases her mini-tantrum, hustling into the front entryway. I follow her to the door, but freeze as I arrive by her side. “... Damn. I totally forgot.” Lucy cocks her head. “The picnic. I was gonna fix lunch for us and keep it in the car for when our appointment is done.” Lucy lets out a huff, but looks past me to the kitchen. “Okay, let’s get something together quick. I’ll help.” I’m actually surprised she isn’t protesting more, but I gladly accept her assistance. I scoop a few things out of the fridge and make some sandwiches while she fetches the picnic basket and a couple blankets for us to lay out on the grass. As I finish up the sandwich preparation and seal them in plastic bags, she tosses a bag of chips, a container of fruit and a couple cans of soda into the basket. With the sandwiches secured as well, we’re ready to head out the door. I carry out the basket and blankets, setting them in the back seat as Lucy buckles herself into the passenger seat. I hop in, buckle up, start the engine and we’re off. She keeps her hands on her knees through the drive, applying pressure to keep her legs from jittering too much. I’m nervous, too, but she’s really taking the brunt of it. I slide a hand over in offering which she quickly accepts; her leg begins bouncing uncontrollably as the hand responsible for keeping it in check has sought employment elsewhere. The clinic isn’t terribly far away, but it still takes about 20 minutes to arrive. As we pull up, the dash clock reads 9:32 AM. Early, as I expected, but it’s better than being late. We park in a spot in front of the corporate building, looking up at the blue and white sign reading “Volcaldera Viability Clinic”. We make our way through the clinic’s front door, being greeted by a pleasant waiting room with several comfortable looking chairs facing a reception desk. Adorning the walls are various pictures and posters of smiling couples with beautiful babies in their arms. Each one displays different combinations of dinosaur, pterosaur, carnivore and herbivore. There’s even one with a male dinosaur and a female human cradling a baby between the two of them, all three figures beaming with happiness. I nudge Lucy with my arm and nod towards that particular poster, watching her cheeks redden as she takes it in. In response, she points to the other side of the room where it seems they’ve hung a somewhat comedic poster of a very tired looking possum mother with about twenty-five babies clinging to her back, sides and stomach, with the text “Each one a blessing!” underneath. Lucy looks back my way and flicks her eyebrows; I respond by mouthing the word “No.” That’s too many baby. We head up to the square-shaped hole cut out of a wall that serves as a reception desk and are greeted by a smiling woman on the other side. The placard on the counter reads “Angela Morton.” I glance from it to her, offering a smile of my own. “Ah, I think we got our email packet from you yesterday.” Angela nods enthusiastically. “Yes! That must mean you’re Mr. and Mrs. Moose!” She pauses. “... Am I pronouncing that correctly?” “It’s actually pronounced ‘Mous’, but it’s fine. Happens all the time.” She smiles apologetically. “Sorry about that! Well, I’ll go ahead and get you checked in. All your paperwork you sent back looked great, so the doctor will be with you shortly! Go ahead and take a seat.” As we turn towards the waiting room chairs, I stop, suddenly recalling a question that still needs answering. “Hey, I was won-” … Angela is already gone, having hustled off to an out of sight room to tend to other reception-related matters. Damn, she’s quick. I shrug, figuring I’ll get another chance later. Lucy has already found a chair and sits surprisingly motionless, staring at the floor in between her feet. I take a seat next to her; the moment I do, her hand fires over and snatches mine, squeezing with surprising intensity. She continues focusing intently on the tiled floor, letting out a small shiver occasionally as she breathes as steadily as she can. I gently rub the back of her hand with my other. “Everything will be fine, Lucy. You’re doing great.” I stay like this, comforting her as the clock ticks away and we approach our appointed time. A few minutes before the top of the hour, the door beside the reception desk opens and a velociraptor woman in a white coat steps through. She glances at a tablet she holds in her left hand, then to Lucy and I. Her bushy blue tail swishes gently as she speaks, her voice carrying a slight southern accent. “Mr. and Mrs. Mous?” Lucy’s head snaps in the direction of the voice and she springs to her feet. “Y-yes!” I follow suit, standing next to her. The woman steps across the waiting room, extending a hand in greeting. “How are y’all doing this morning? My name’s Dr. Larson. I’m the lead gynecologist at this clinic and I’ll be helping to take care of you today.” Lucy accepts Dr. Larson’s handshake, her hand trembling slightly as she does so. I also shake the doctor’s hand as she continues. “If you’ll follow me, please.” She leads us into the back of the clinic, revealing a much more spacious location than you might expect when viewing the corporate building from the outside. Doors to several rooms stand open, revealing various chairs, beds and medical equipment within. I hadn’t really given much thought to what exactly would go into a “viability test”, suddenly feeling a chill as my imagination fills in the gaps with wicked needles and invasive prodding. I’ve never been afraid of doctors or sharps, but realizing how little I know about what we’re getting into still makes me a bit uncomfortable. Dr. Larson leads us into a small room and we take seats opposite of her as she taps away at her tablet. Lucy reaches over and grabs my hand again, squeezing it tightly. The doctor glances up from her device and notices the gesture; she offers a kind smile. “Exciting stuff, huh?” Lucy’s hand squeezes mine tighter, and I reply, “Excitement… nerves… it’s a lot for us.” Dr. Larson looks back down at the tablet. “Well, I don’t think either of you have anything to be worried about. From the paperwork we received and the charts we were transferred from your physician, the tests should go very smoothly.” Lucy perks up at this and looks at the doctor nervously. “What… what about my recent… hospitalization? Will that… impact anything?” The doctor slides a finger across her tablet, bringing up another page of information. She flicks her eyebrows as she speaks frankly. “Well, the timing isn’t great, but… based on everything I’m seeing on your file, I don’t think it’ll interfere with your viability tests or chances for pregnancy.” Lucy lets out a tremendous sigh as her posture relaxes significantly. She still holds my hand tightly as Dr. Larson smiles at her. “That pterodactyl metabolism and immune system really is something else. I’d be willing to bet you’ve never been sick longer than a day, have you?” Lucy ponders this question, as do I. Come to think of it, I’ve seen her get sick a few times: once in high school, and once while we were engaged. Both times she was bed-ridden for a day and practically right as rain the next. After a moment, Lucy nods. “I suppose you’re right.” The doctor chuckles. “Well, you’d better buckle up for pregnancy, then. Your immune system won’t save you from the morning sickness. But let’s get the tests underway to see where we stand in that department!” She taps something into her tablet as she continues. “I’ll be taking care of you today, Lucy, and my assistant will be handling Anon. Process is a little simpler for the fellas.” I clear my throat, getting her attention. “Um, excuse me, doctor. Do you know about how long after the tests are done before we’ll kn-” A rapid knock at the door interrupts me, followed by a male nurse opening it and poking his head through. The green-tinted parasaurolophus glances at Lucy and I before turning to the doctor. “We’re all set for them!” Dr. Larson waves him in. “Ah, thanks, hon! Anon, this is Troy. He’ll be taking care of you! Lucy, if you’ll follow me, we’ll get started with your tests!” Lucy glances at me, seemingly hesitant about letting go of my hand. I give her a smile. “See you in a little bit, sweetie.” She nods and gives me a quick peck on the cheek before following Dr. Larson out of the room and down the hall. Troy addresses me. “Alright, boss. If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you squared away in a jiffy.” He leads me in the opposite direction of Lucy to a room a few doors down, similarly sized but containing several pieces of medical equipment. As I take a seat in the patient’s chair, he begins performing some basic tests, including checking my blood pressure and temperature. He makes some small talk as he goes through his routine. “So! How long have you and the missus been married?” “Uh… almost a month now.” “Right on! And you’re already looking into having some little ones, very cool! Lotta folks these days don’t start thinking about kids until a few years into marriage.” I consider this statement. I guess everyone’s biological clocks work at different speeds, but both Lucy and I got hit hard with the desire to have a child and we’re both only 21 years old. It’s fortunate that we ended up on the same page as one another around the same time; if only one of us wanted kids right now and the other didn’t, it could have made things awkward. We certainly discussed the prospect when we were engaged, but we didn’t think to iron out a timetable. I’m just glad Lucy wanted this as badly as I did. Troy uncaps a small syringe attached to a vial. “Gotta take a quick blood sample, then we just need one more thing and you’ll be done!” He inserts the needle into my arm and pulls back the plunger. Nothing new; I got plenty of shots and blood draws while serving in the military. He smirks as he affixes a label to the now full small vial and speaks again. “The ‘guy’ side of things typically goes quicker than the ‘gal’ side.” … Typically? After he sticks a small bandage on my arm to prevent further leakage, he stands, grabbing a small plastic jar with a screw-on lid from a nearby counter. “Alright, boss. Follow me.” He leads me to an adjacent room at the end of the hallway. As he opens the door, he hands the container to me. “Just need a sample from ya, then you’ll be all set!” I look down at the plastic jar, then back to him. “Uhh… you need me to pee in this, then?” He snorts. “Try again, bud.” He gestures into the room, and I step inside. Oh. Oh. A lone, rather comfortable-looking chair and a matching footstool reside in the corner of the room, their leather luster only hampered by the thin plastic covering overtop the both of them. Next to it, a wooden end table is adorned with several magazines arranged across its surface, each prominently featuring various naked women in various poses doing various naughty things. Both humans and dinosaurs are represented across the spread of smut, including one cover with an attractive pterodactyl woman wearing a revealing blouse that I’m not too proud to say my eyes linger upon for a moment longer than the others. I turn back to Troy and raise a finger as I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. “I’ll be right outside. Just give a knock when you’re all done, sport.” With that, he grins at me and pulls the door shut. I stand face to face with a closed portal, now stranded in a room where they expect me to beat off into a plastic jar while looking at nudie magazines. My ears glow red as I realize why Troy said the ‘guy’ side of things typically goes quicker. Though my ego tells me for a moment that I should take an absurd amount of time just to prove a point about how manly I am, I quickly realize that this would be retarded and would likely lead to Lucy sitting by herself waiting for her husband to jerk off into a cup. I hesitantly take a seat on the plastic-coated chair, hearing it crinkle under my weight. Welp. Nothing to do but get to doing. Unscrewing the cap of the plastic container and unfastening my lower garments, I opt not to utilize any of the provided materials. This is both to keep my conscience clean about my commitment to the woman I love and to avoid having to think about where else those magazines may have been and what else they may have come into contact with. Thankfully, I’m very much attracted to Lucy and have a good imagination. In fact, I recall a particular thought from just last night, with her wearing form-fitting business attire as she files some sexy paperwork. Her tail gently sways as her rear wiggles in my direction. She notices me greedily sizing her up, but doesn’t straighten up immediately, instead opting to hold her pose as she glances at me with lust in her eyes. I step closer, placing my hands on either side of her hips and tracing an outline of her shape with my fingers. She replies with a sigh and a moan as her eyes slowly close in ecstacy and she pushes back towards me. It doesn’t take much work to slide the suit dress up and over her behind, allowing me access to her most sacred of places. She bites her lip as she shudders and calls out, “Oh, God! Anon!” … Aaand we’re done! … Wait. How quick was that? Shit. I mean, I know Lucy and I haven’t been intimate for… a whole 24 hours… shit, how quick WAS that?! I screw the cap onto the no longer empty container and fasten my pants back up before knocking on the door. A moment later, Troy appears, extending gloved hands to take the plastic jar from me. As he affixes a label to it, he gestures with a nod towards a bathroom just across the narrow hall. “You can wash up over there.” I step past him, expecting to hear a taunt or a jeer of some sort at my expense, but none is offered. I mean, obviously. They’re professionals here. They handle this kind of thing all the HOW QUICK WAS THAT?! SHIT! I wash my hands and rejoin Troy in the hall, and he leads me back to the room to which Dr. Larson first brought Lucy and I. He waves me in as he speaks. “Your wife should be along pretty soon! Make yourself comfortable.” I thank him and step into the room, but suddenly remember the question I’ve still not gotten answered. “Say, do you know whe-” He’s gone. What the hell? Is this place staffed by ninjas? Mildly annoyed, I plop down on one of the chairs and await Lucy’s return. Even though I didn’t know a whole lot about what exactly goes into a viability test, I guess it makes sense that the woman side of things is a bit more involved. After all, she’s being seen by a full-on gynecologist while I simply got handled by a nurse. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I do get to do the more exciting part of the whole “pregnancy” thing, after all. After a few minutes, the door opens and Lucy steps in. Dr. Larson remains in the hall, speaking to both of us through the opening. “Okay! Hang tight in here, and I’ll be with you shortly to get you on your way!” I open my mouth to try to ask the same damn question I’ve gotten snubbed on three times now… and the door’s closed. For crying out loud. Lucy sits next to me, her hands folded in her lap. I turn to her. “So? How’d everything go?” She shrugs. “Fine, I think. They took my vitals, blood sample, and gave a pretty standard OB-GYN examination including a pregnancy test to see if we’ve already… even though we don’t know yet if…” Her cheeks flush red as her flustered thoughts don’t allow her to finish the sentences. She shakes away the uncertainties and looks up at me. “What about you?” I mirror her shrug. “Pretty much the same, minus the OB-GYN part. Instead, I got to wank into a plastic jar.” She blinks as the words register before she lets out a laugh through her pursed lips. “Pffffft! Are you serious?!” I chuckle. “Hey, it makes sense. That’s the part I’m responsible for here, ain’t it?” She playfully jabs me in the side with her elbow. “Well, that and raising our child!” “Well, of course! Still, you’re the one that has to carry our little blessing for nine months.” She smiles at me before her expression turns playfully accusatory. “... Well? What sorta material did they give you to help you wank, huh?” I take her hand in my own and gaze lovingly into her eyes. “Didn’t need ‘em.” Once she realizes my meaning, she melts, instantly dropping her accusatory tone and giving me an extended “Awwwww!” as she wraps her arms and wings around me in an embrace. I love this woman. After a moment, we separate and I ask, “Say, did Dr. Larson happen to tell you when we’ll get the results?” She shakes her head. “No. To be honest, she tried making small talk but I was so nervous I barely said more than two words.” “Dang. I tried asking several times but kept missing the chance. I hope they’ll let us know sooner than later.” Lucy doesn’t need to speak for me to know how strongly she agrees with that particular sentiment. It all hinges on this viability test, and the answer to the simple question: “Can Lucy and I have a baby together?” While the internet told us it’s possible, it’s not a sure-fire thing. The difference in our species is already a massive barrier, but if our genetic compatibility isn’t where it needs to be we may have no chance at all. I hope this isn’t the case. I pray this isn’t the case. God, if you’ll grant this dumb caveman one gift, let it be for me to have a healthy baby with Lucy. A few minutes later, the door opens and Dr. Larson steps in with her tablet in hand. Lucy immediately springs to attention, looking intently towards the doctor as she takes a seat across from us. I make a mental note that I need to ask her when we’re gonna get these darn results before she vanishes in a puff of smoke like the rest of her ninja order. She looks from the tablet to the two of us. “So, kiddos! That wasn’t too hard, was it? I told you there was nothing to be worried about!” At this, Lucy gives a weak smile and nods. The doctor continues. “When people come in, they’re always worried about what the tests involve and, of course, the outcomes, but science in this field has come so far even in the last decade that it’s really pretty painless and easy!” She slides her finger across the tablet screen and scans its surface before looking back up to us. “Well, first things first, Lucy: you’re not pregnant yet.” Lucy lowers her head upon hearing this, exhaling slowly through her nostrils as she purses her lips. I gently place a hand on her back and rub it to console her before… … Wait a minute… I look at the doctor. “... Did… did you say ‘yet’?” Lucy’s head snaps upwards, her gaze locking onto Dr. Larson with incredible intensity. The doctor beams a smile at the two of us. “I did. Everything in your viability tests came back positive.” Lucy leaps to her feet, frantically asking, “What? WHAT?! WHAT?!” I’m not far behind her, also taking to my feet as I stare open-mouthed at Dr. Larson, awaiting her response. Her smile widens. “That’s right! Your tests were fantastic, the two of you are an excellent match!” She glances at her tablet again. “... Ninety-six percent! I’ve honestly never seen a higher percentage for a human-pterosaur couple. Yep, you two are absolutely viable!” She looks up to say something further only for her hair and tail to be buffeted backwards by a gust of wind. She squints as she smiles at the source of the sudden gale. Lucy’s wings are flapping uncontrollably. She bounces up and down, threatening to actually take off in the small office despite being incapable of flight. Her hands are balled in front of her chest and oscillate at nearly the same speed as her tail. She emits a high pitched squealing noise as she tries to inhale further after her lungs are already full of air. I snatch her out of the air and pull her into an embrace, joining in with her excited hopping. “LUCY! WE CAN HAVE A BABY!” Lucy finally lets out the breath she’d been storing: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!” Tears of joy pour from her eyes as she sways back and forth in my arms, expending any and all air she can suck into her lungs in excited, blissful cries. She quakes with her overwhelming emotions, and I do my best to not tremble as I cradle her, shedding my own joyful tears as I tell her how much I love her. She slowly crumples to her knees, her legs unable to keep supporting her weight. I follow her to the ground, embracing her further as her elated sobbing continues. We can have a baby. We can have a baby. Thank you, God. As composure slowly returns to us, I feel a rectangular object prod my arm. I turn to see Dr. Larson leaning forward and extending a tissue box my way. To her credit, the doctor simply waited patiently as the excitement washed over us; now she smiles as I accept her offering and pull out several tissues for Lucy and I. Dr. Larson leans back in her chair and lets out a sigh. “Best part of the job. Nothing makes me happier than letting a darling couple like yourselves know that you’re viable.” Lucy continues sniffling and gulping in air as she wipes her tears away, still beaming an uncontrollable smile. After a moment, the doctor scoots forward on her seat slightly. “O’course, just being viable doesn’t mean you’ll get pregnant at the drop of a hat. You’ll still need to try, and you might need to try for a while. Your estrus season will be your best bet, but that’s still about five months away.” Lucy nods, still taking in sharp breaths as she calms herself down. “That’s… that’s fine… I just… needed to know we can…” Dr. Larson gives Lucy and I a ‘thumbs up’. “You two are gonna make great parents. I can tell.” Coming to my own senses a bit more, I shake my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you get the results of these tests back so quickly! I kept trying to ask when we’d find out our results… I had no idea it’d be before we even left.” The doctor chuckles at this. “Hey, I told you that this science has come a long way in the past ten years! Back when I first started in the field eighteen years ago, it’d take several weeks as we had to mail things back and forth. Now, between the internet and having much more sophisticated machinery on hand, it’s as easy as pie!” I turn back to Lucy, gazing into her puffed, tear-streaked eyes as I ask a follow-up question of the doctor. “So what now, Dr. Larson?” “Now? You’d best get to work with your wife, there!” She lets out a chuckle. “Not here, o’course. But you two are all set!” “I mean… is there anything else we need to do to increase our odds or help out? I read on the internet-” She cuts me off. “Ahh, let me guess: chilling your testicles with an ice pack?” Lucy lets out a laugh at this, as do I. “Yeah, nope, that’s all hooey. As far as the science has come along in these past years, it’s still a somewhat budding field so finding reliable information can be a bit tricky. The best thing you can do? Be patient, work at it, don’t get discouraged. All the odds are in your favor, but pregnancy is still never a sure-fire thing. If you’re having trouble in a few months, come on back and see me, okay?” We both nod to her. As I help Lucy to her feet, Dr. Larson stands with us and shakes both of our hands. Lucy still trembles with residual excitement as we make our way to the reception desk, pay our bill, and head out to the car, the brilliant late morning sun shining brighter than ever before. As we settle into our seats, I turn to face Lucy. She gazes at me with more love and warmth than I’ve ever seen before, all of her doubt and fear being swept away in favor of hope and joy. For a brief moment, I catch a glimpse of her lying in a hospital bed, exhausted and overwhelmed with happiness as she cradles our first child. She turns to me, her beauty immeasurably multiplied by her motherly aura. Her smile is radiant. “Anon… you’re a daddy.” My heart skips a beat as I regain focus on the beautiful woman seated next to me in the car, my wife, my everything. Her eyes sparkle in the sunlight. I smile as I take her hand in mine. “So… how about that picnic?”