"Trust us to pick the time of day when
LAX is bloody busiest."
Jetta set her case down on the trolley, casting a glance around her
with a frown on her face. "Justin, what time flight did you book us on
again? 'alf eleven? Couldn't you at least 'ave aimed for something that
wasn't in the middle of midday rush?"
"Seems to me LAX is always busy." Justin said with a grin, hauling his
case on top of hers and taking control of the trolley. "Besides, there
was the flight at six o' clock this morning, but you didn't seem keen
to get up that early, so this was the best I could do."
"Six o' clock means bein' here at bloody four. On an average day I
don't go to bed till about two." Jetta said simply. "An' watch where
you're steerin' that, will you? That case is new an' the last one got
busted because your sister kicked the wheels off it. I don't want to be
buyin' another before we get back."
"I can steer." Justin assured her. "And I can't say I've noticed too
much of this two am bed going since we've lived together, Jetta...or
are you breaking me into your routine gently?"
"That's the club girl Misfit routine." Jetta replied with a grin. "Up
late, to bed late, and plenty of life in the middle. I 'aven't had much
chance of it since we moved in together. What with your bloody chest
an' bein' an invalid, an' then all the crap with the 'ouse an' movin'
an stuff, I've been too blitzed by eleven to think about goin' out too
much. There sure as hell is a lot of shit in bein' married, an' that's
"But you don't regret doing it?" Justin shot her a quizzical look.
"Not yet." She said flippantly. "I just wish things would slow down a
little bit. Seems all we've 'ad in the last few months is one crisis
after another an' I'd quite like it to get back on an even keel. Have
fun. Go out. Do dinner or visit a bar or whatever. See a movie. Jus'
not worry about drownin' accidents or house removal costs or what
colour to paint this or that room. Don't you think so?"
"Yes, but we are getting there." Justin manoeuvred the trolley over
towards the end of a long queue to book in. "Almost everywhere is done
except the kitchen and the fitters will be doing that while we're away.
So we should come home and find a nice new home waiting for us...and I
can carry you over the threshold and do this whole newlywed thing
"I'd like to see you try!"
"Why? Are you that heavy?" Justin eyed her innocently and she whacked
him playfully on the arm with her purse.
"Shut up." She ordered. "Don't you know it's rude to comment on a
girl's weight? More likely you wouldn't be able to lift me because
you're a wimp."
"I don't think you'd weigh that much." Justin eyed her thoughtfully.
"Though we could do an experiment now, if you like..."
He let go of the trolley, holding out his hands, but Jetta swiped them
"Stop it, you clown." She retorted. "And if you must know, January's a
bloody bad time to be pickin' people up. After Christmas, we all put on
a few pounds...so keep your 'ands and your macho urges to yourself an'
we'll all be happy."
Justin looked thoughtful.
"I wondered why you spent so long in the bathroom this morning." He
bantered. "Was that it? You were assessing the Christmas damage?"
Jetta did not answer right away, and Justin wrapped his arms around her
"It's all right, you know." He said softly. "I really don't care how
much you weigh - I was only teasing you."
"I know." Jetta pursed her lips. "If you must know, I've put on five
pounds since the last time I weighed myself."
"And that might not seem like a lot to you, but it's bloody massive to
me." She added. "I ain't never put on more than a couple of pounds in a
half year before. God knows what I was eatin' at Christmas, but it
must've been steeped high in the bad stuff, I'm telling you."
"Well, five pounds is nothing as far as I'm concerned." Justin assured
her. "You don't look any different to me."
"At least you know all the right things to say." Jetta grimaced at him.
"That's a good start."
She reached down to fasten the zip on her bag properly, a pensive look
entering her grey eyes.
"I wasn't weighing myself this morning, actually." She admitted. "Would
you be creeped out if I told you I was up at five o' clock 'avin'
"Yes." Justin said. "You and five am don't generally mix. Why on earth?"
"Anticipation about goin' home?" Jetta shrugged. "Anyway, I made
oatmeal - since it's the only damn thing I seem to know how to make
that early in the morning - an' went back to bed. Next thing I know,
well...shall we say that the oatmeal made an unscheduled re-appearance?"
"You were sick?" Justin's teasing expression became one of surprise and
concern. "Jetta, why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I probably did something wrong with cookin' it an' I didn't
feel like a kitchen safety lecture." Jetta sighed. "I feel all right
now, if a bit empty. But you know what a menace I am in the bleedin'
kitchen anyway - that's the last time I cook anythin' for myself."
"I'm going to have to teach you to manage the oven properly, if I'm
ever going to get a night off, I see." Justin said with a smile, then,
"Jetta, I'm not sure there is a wrong way to cook oatmeal. I
"I think the milk was off." Jetta owned. "Either way, I didn't 'ave the
best start to the day. You are officially appointed 'ouse cook, for the
safety of everyone else in the area."
Justin was silent for a moment, pushing the trolley forward in the
queue absently as a gap opened up in front of them. Then, at length, he
"You wouldn't still be having those dreams?" He asked. Jetta started,
then shook her head.
"Not for ages. Not since before Christmas." She said decidedly.
"Justin, I'm not some weak wuss who gets her stomach turned by a silly
dream. I told you before, dreams are my body's way of copin' with
things. They happen, they work through, they go. They don't make me
nauseous an' there's no reason for you to fuss. That's gone through me
now. I don't dream like that any more. It's fine, so stop fussing about
it, all right?"
"All right." Justin's brows knitted into a thoughtful frown. "It's
just...well, how do I put this...?"
"I don't know." Jetta looked nonplussed. "How do you put what?"
"We've been dating for more than a year, right?"
"So you've slept at mine a lot of times and we've hung out a lot more
times during that spell. Right?"
"Yes. Justin, where is this going?"
"Well, you didn't strike me as the sort of person who gets sick easily."
"I'm not. Your point is?"
"My point is that since we got married, you've been sick an awful lot."
Justin said quietly. "Haven't you noticed that?"
"Not really." Jetta shook her head. "New Year - okay, but I drank too
much and probably deserved to come in in that state, thinkin' back. An'
after your accident I was a touch wobbly, but that was shock. We all
know that...it wasn't a fun couple of days, you know. Other than
that...? No. I hadn't noticed anything odd."
"Well, I have." Justin rubbed his chin. "And it's starting to worry me,
if I'm honest. I mean, nobody throws up after eating oatmeal, Jetta.
Not even if they're as bad a cook as you are. That's just not right."
"So like I said, the milk was probably off or something. I don't know
why you're makin' a big deal out of this!"
"Because I'm worried about you." Justin admitted. "You don't seem
completely yourself lately, and I'm just concerned something else might
be going on."
"Somethin' else?" Jetta creased her brow. "Like what? Food poisoning?
Before Justin could answer, they arrived at the booking in desk and for
the next few minutes both were engrossed in sorting out their luggage
to go into the hold. Once they were through into the departures lounge,
however, Justin pulled his wife over to one side, putting his hands on
her shoulders and running his gaze over her thoughtfully. She frowned
at his scrutiny, irritation flickering in her eyes.
"Justin, what are you doing?" She demanded. "Have you completely lost
your mind this mornin' or what? You're starin' at me like...God knows
what, to be honest. I'm not goin' to stand this fussin' for much
longer. Just because we're married doesn't give you the right to
mollycoddle. Will you just accept that I'm fine and get over it?"
For a moment, Justin didn't reply. Then, very quietly, he took her by
the hand, leading her to an empty seat and sitting down, pulling her
down beside him.
"Tell me something honestly." he said softly. "When was the last time
you had a period?"
"What?" Jetta's eyes almost fell out of her head. "Justin! That's not
the kind of question you blurt out in a busy airport!"
"That's why we're over here, where it's quiet." Justin said simply.
"Tell me. When?"
"Why? 'Ave I been more moody than usual of late, or something?"
"No, you've been damn odd of late." Justin said bluntly. "So I want to
know. When was the last time you were on?"
Jetta hesitated for a moment, then her brows drew together in a frown.
"Honestly? I ain't sure." She admitted. "We've been so busy that I
'adn't even thought about it. I was late in November, because of your
accident - I spoke to a doctor there an' you know they put it all down
to that. An' I...I can't remember. Why? Is it important?"
"It could be." Justin chewed on his lip, then, "I can't believe you
don't see what I'm getting at. Jetta, you've been nauseous a lot
lately, and you've not had a period since...well, are you saying you've
not had one since October?"
"Guess so." Jetta frowned. Then colour drained from her face and she
swore in low tones. "Oh God. That's what you're trying to say."
"It occured to me." Justin admitted. "Do you think...is there any
chance you...could be?"
Jetta swallowed hard.
"It'd be bloody impossible, considerin' we're always safe." She managed
at length. "I mean, always. We always take care of things. I'm more
careful than that. So are you. Unless it's divine intervention, I don't
see how I could be."
"But you haven't had a period. That being the case, surely we have to
consider it a possibility?"
"Or there's something else going on which might be worse." Justin said
quietly. "Because however you look at it, Jetta - you've not been well
Jetta buried her head in her hands, running her fingers through her
thick dark hair as she absorbed his words.
"But how?" She asked. "Justin, we're
! Do you think I'd
bloody get into bed with you if one of us at least wasn't prepared?"
Justin shook his head.
"I know you wouldn't." He said evenly. "But Jetta...something else just
occured to me."
"What?" Jetta raised apprehensive eyes to his.
"We were very drunk the night we got married." Justin said slowly.
"Very, very drunk. You know that. We went back to celebrate.
And...well...I don't remember a whole lot about that night even now.
Not after we exchanged the vows and got back to the hotel. But I know
that by morning we'd...got about a bit. And neither of us were really
thinking much about protection...at least, I doubt we were. We weren't
really thinking at all. We just..."
"...Did it." Jetta whispered. She cursed again, shaking her head.
"No way. No damn way." She said flatly. "I'm not pregnant, Justin. Stop
trying to spook me. It's impossible. I mean, dammit, considerin' the
number of times we've been together an' been safe, the chances of us
fallin' down on that one sole occasion' must be ludicrously
small. I mean, people are always tryin' for a baby, right? That means
it takes more than one shot to nail it, surely? An' if we were drunk
one night, so what? It doesn't mean...well, it doesn't mean that
somethin' went wrong. There's no guarantee we even did anythin', to be
honest. We were both smashed. We might 'ave just passed out an' that
Justin looked uneasy.
"Well, maybe." He acknowledged at length. "You know more about female
biology than I do, and my memory of that night isn't really clear
enough to say what we did or didn't do. But when we get to London,
Jetta...I really think you should take a test. Even if it's just to
prove that you're not and put our minds at rest on that account. Okay?"
Jetta bit her lip.
"I don't want to."
"I know, but for my peace of mind if not for yours." Justin squeezed
her hand. "Besides, if you're not, I want you to see a doctor anyway.
Because if that's not it, something has you off kilter...and if it's a
hangover from my accident, I want it seen to and sorted out. I don't
like seeing you unwell, whatever the cause. All right?"
Jetta sighed, glancing at her nails.
"Whatever." She said heavily. "I don't want to argue. But this is
supposed to be a vacation, Justin. A break. An 'oliday. Not a nag-fest.
So drop it, huh? I don't want to be thinking about this stuff the whole
flight to England."
"We could postpone, if you like."
"Dammit, not a chance." Jetta got to her feet, shaking her head. "Not a
bleedin' chance. If we went home now, do you 'ave any idea how many
questions we'd be asked? No, we're going away. I'm 'avin' my 'oneymoon
an' that's it. We'll discuss this in England, if there's anythin' to
discuss at all. But for the time bein', the whole bleedin' subject is
taboo, is that understood?"
"All right." Justin nodded his head. "I guess an airport isn't the best
place to discuss it, anyway."
"Especially not when there might be tabloid press around." Jetta agreed
pointedly. "Whether they know it's me or not, you can't be sure. An'
this is the last thing I want to see appearin' in tomorrow's press!"
"Then we'll change the subject." Justin promised, but there was doubt
in his glance as he looked at his wife. "And we'll work out what's what
when we get to London."
The Boring Disclaimer:
Jetta is not my character - she and the Misfits were created by Hasbro
and given life by Christy Marx and the writers of the Jem series.
However, the events, concepts and plotline contained in this story is
my own and may not be duplicated. Justin, Gianina and any character not
featured in the Jem cartoon are entirely my creation and are also not
to be duplicated anywhere else.