Chapter Text
Maya exited their bedroom, her steps undeniably shaky. With each step her stomach churned violently, each wave of nausea making her wish she had just remained in bed.
“Ciao, amore! I’ve made you breakfast,” Carina greeted brightly, her smile warm as she plated up golden French toast and carried it to the table. The aroma of cinnamon and syrup filled the room, but to Maya, it was nauseating.
Maya winced, her nose wrinkling as the sight of the food sent another wave of queasiness rolling through her. She placed a hand on her stomach, her fingers pressing lightly as if trying to stop the churning under her hand.
“Cosa? What’s wrong?” Carina asked, her cheer shifting instantly to concern as she caught the look on Maya’s face.
“I think I’m sick,” Maya mumbled, her voice small and unsteady. Her eyes met Carina’s, filled with discomfort and worry.
“You were fine yesterday,” Carina replied, sitting down beside her and leaning closer to study her face. She reached for Maya’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I know, but I think I’m sick now,” Maya took Carina’s hand and rested it on her forehead.
“What’s wrong?” Carina asked, sitting down next to her, “you don’t have a fever.”
“I know,” Maya admitted, her other hand clutching at her abdomen. “But I think I’m sick now.” She took Carina’s hand and guided it to her forehead. “See? Do I feel warm?”
Carina pressed her palm against Maya’s skin, her brow furrowing as she concentrated. “You don’t have a fever,” she murmured, running her hand back through Maya’s hair.
“I feel really sick,” Maya insisted, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “And... weak. My stomach feels weird.”
Carina’s eyes softened as she tilted her head, studying Maya carefully. “Mmm,” she hummed thoughtfully, brushing a strand of hair from Maya’s face. “You are a little pale, amore... but you get like this when you’re nervous. It’s nerves, Bambina. Nerves and exhaustion. You’ve been working so hard.”
Maya shook her head, her frustration evident as she dropped her gaze to the table. “But what if it isn’t nerves? My stomach doesn’t feel normal… it feels tight and kind of crampy. And my whole body is aching.”
“You just need to take some deep breaths,” Carina said gently, reaching for Maya’s plate and cutting a piece of French toast. “Have something to eat and try not to worry. You always feel better once you’ve eaten.” She held the fork out to Maya with an encouraging smile.
Maya hesitated but eventually took the bite, chewing slowly. She wasn’t sure if it was helping or making things worse. Her stomach bubbled uncomfortably.
“Good,” Carina praised, her smile widening. “Keep going. I’ll steam your Class As while you finish.”
Maya gave a noncommittal hum and took another bite, though each chew felt like a chore.
By the time Carina finished steaming Maya’s jacket and reattaching her badges, Maya had wandered back into their bedroom. She flopped onto the unmade bed with a groan, her arm draped dramatically over her face. She tugged the waistband of her pyjama bottoms down slightly, exposing her stomach. “I really don’t feel good,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by her arm.
Carina placed the jacket carefully on a hanger before sitting beside Maya. “Amore, it’s just nerves. You’re presenting your research publicly for the first time. Nerves are completely normal.”
“But look at my belly,” Maya said, rolling onto her back and pulling her top up to reveal her bloated stomach. “It’s huge. This isn’t just nerves.”
Carina chuckled softly, her hand resting on Maya’s abdomen. “It’s not huge. This is anxiety tummy,” she said with a reassuring smile, rubbing gentle circles over Maya’s skin. “It’s barely bloated.”
“I’m telling you, I’m not well,” Maya countered, her tone edged with frustration.
Carina sighed, keeping her tone calm as she replied, “let’s not argue, okay? How can I help? What’s going to help?”
“Call Ross and tell her I have a stomach bug,” Maya said, her words half-serious but filled with desperation.
“Maya,” Carina said, raising a brow, her tone lightly chastising.
“I’m serious,” Maya insisted, pouting slightly.
“How about this?” Carina offered. “Go to the bathroom, get dressed, and then we’ll see how you’re feeling. Tummy aches and nausea are normal when you’re nervous about something big.”
“But not like this,” Maya grumbled, reluctantly sitting up, still holding her stomach, “I don’t get nervous.”
Carina couldn’t stifle her laughter as she helped Maya swing her legs over the edge of the bed, “That’s definitely a lie, amore. You’re human, even if you hate admitting it. Now, come on, Battalion Chief. Let’s get you changed. You’ll feel better once you’re ready.”
“Fine,” Maya huffed, scowling as she stood up. Her steps were slow and deliberate as she trudged into the bathroom, leaving Carina to finish touching up her makeup. For once, Carina had been the early riser, up long before Maya had even stirred, a rarity in their household.
Maya emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, her face pale and her movements sluggish. Without a word, she immediately flopped back onto the bed, her arm draped dramatically over her eyes. She rolled over and curled inwards, like she was protecting her stomach.
“I almost puked,” she announced, her voice muffled by the bed
Carina glanced up, setting her lipstick down with a soft click. “Honestly, I think it’s just nerves,” she said standing and crossing the room to sit beside Maya. “You’ll feel better once you’re dressed and in the venue, I promise.”
“You don’t understand,” Maya protested, lifting her arm to glare at Carina. “I was crouched by the toilet almost puking.”
Carina sighed, her hand instinctively reaching for Maya’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Maya, bambina, the first time I presented my research publicly to people that weren’t just funders and the hospital board, I was so nervous. I almost threw up. I definitely went to the bathroom four or five times. My stomach hurt. This is nerves. It’s how your body reacts to nerves.”
“I’ve never felt like this,” Maya said, resigned, “I feel awful.”
“You feel awful because you care,” Carina said gently, brushing a strand of hair from Maya’s face. “I’m going to be right there, and so is your team. They know exactly what questions to ask to support you. You just need to take some deep breaths and trust yourself.”
Carina rested her hand on Maya’s stomach, her fingers light against the soft fabric of her shirt. “Come on, deep breath. Fill your tummy up.”
Maya listened, taking a deep breath so her stomach expanded against Carina’s palm. Carina nodded, eyes kind and reassuring. She encouraged it and few more times, leaning down to press a kiss to Maya’s cheek. “Now you get dressed!”
“Okay,” Maya murmured, sitting up slowly. The tight, uncomfortable sensation in her stomach persisted, but she pushed it aside, focusing on Carina’s calming presence. She reminded herself that once she started talking about The Use of Technology in Urban Fire Management, the nerves would ease; at least, she hoped they would.
She managed to get her shirt and pants on before her stomach rebelled again. The moment Carina buttoned the last button of her uniform, Maya darted into the bathroom, her hand pressed firmly to her abdomen.
It was her stomach that was causing her the most grief, moving between upset and nauseous. She reached for the trash can as she sat there.
“Bambina?”
“I’m sorry,” Maya called back weakly. She sat on the toilet, clutching the trash can in her lap as her stomach churned relentlessly. “I don’t feel well again.”
“Can I come in?”
“Uh-huh,” Maya muttered, not lifting her head.
Carina entered, her expression softening as she took in Maya’s pale face and the way her shoulders slumped. She crouched down beside her, one hand reaching to brush a strand of hair from Maya’s damp forehead. “Is it that bad?”
Maya shook her head slightly. “Actually, no,” she said, her voice low and strained. “I feel like I’m going to puke, and my stomach’s upset, but nothing’s really happening. Just... bleugh.”
“It really does sound like nerves,” Carina said softly, resting her hand on Maya’s forehead. “You’re a little warm, but do you think that’s just feeling nauseous.”
“Mmm.”
“Okay, come on then,” Carina said, standing and holding out her hand. “Getting to the venue and being around the other speakers will probably help distract you.”
Maya sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping as she allowed Carina to help her up. “Yeah,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.
Carina cupped Maya’s cheeks, tilting her face up to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “You’re going to be amazing, Battalion Chief Bambina,” she murmured, her tone full of unwavering confidence.
“Yeah?” Maya asked, her voice soft, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“I know for sure; you have worked so hard for this. And it’s going to help so many people,” Carina said softly, tying the tie around Maya’s neck as she had done almost every time Maya had worn class As in their relationship. “This is the real last step; telling people about it. You’ll feel so proud when you hear them say how wonderful it is. All of your hard work will make even more sense.”
Maya sighed, brushing her hands nervously against her legs. “I’m really nervous.”
“I know,” Carina murmured, her voice soft but reassuring. She adjusted the tie, smoothing it down with gentle fingers. “You’re going to do great though, bella. I just know you are.”
“You’ll be there right? You’ll watch?” Maya asked, her voice betraying just how much she needed Carina’s presence.
“Front row if I’m allowed.”
“Good,” Maya exhaled a shaky breath.
She turned to quickly fix her hair while Carina finished getting ready, the ritual helping to anchor her nerves. Soon, they were out the door, Maya’s stomach clenching and unclenching as she tried to adapt to the anxious feelings manifesting as nausea and an uncomfortable ache.
The conference was in Tacoma, a drive that would normally take forty minutes. But morning traffic conspired against them, delaying their arrival more with every passing second.
From the moment they got in the car, Maya closed her eyes, hoping to catch up on some of the sleep she’d missed after staying up until 2 a.m. practicing her speech. Carina, ever mindful, kept the car quiet, content to let her wife rest while she focused on the road.
At first, the journey was smooth, the rhythmic hum of the car lulling Maya into a light sleep. But as the minutes dragged on, the stop-and-go motion of the traffic began to stir something unwelcome in her stomach. Each slow turn and every jolt as Carina eased forward seemed to amplify the queasiness, and Maya gripped the edge of her seat, her face tightening as she fought the waves of nausea.
“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” Carina said gently, glancing over at her. She could see the tension in Maya’s features; almost like the ‘eyes forward’ mentality had returned. She was aware of the Maya’s fingers tapped nervously against her leg and the way she took a deep breath every few seconds.
“It’s not that,” Maya murmured, and there was a tautness to Maya’s voice that worried Carina immensely.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, squeezing Maya’s leg, brow furrowed. When Maya didn’t immediately answer she moved her hand to squeeze Maya’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay, tell me.”
Maya swallowed hard, her eyes fluttering open. “I think sleeping made me a little-” She gagged suddenly, her hand flying to her mouth. “Car sick,” she managed to choke out.
“Okay,” Carina said, her voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. She used her elbow to roll Maya’s window while scanning the road for a place to pull over. “Okay, you’re okay,” she said, one hand rubbing Maya’s back as she manoeuvred the car through the sluggish traffic. “Dai, dai, per favore...” she muttered, praying there was a turning soon. Finally she spotted a break, relief flooding her system, as she heard Maya groan next to her, her body tensing again. “Hold on, amore, almost there,” Carina said as she veered onto the exit and off the interstate, bringing the car to a swift stop as soon as she could.
The car hadn’t even fully halted before Maya flung the door open, leaning out to vomit onto the grassy shoulder. Her body heaved, and Carina quickly unbuckled her seatbelt, leaning over to rub Maya’s back in comforting circles. “You’re okay,” Carina whispered softly. “It’s just sick, amore mio. Don’t worry. Let it out, you’ll feel better.”
Eventually, Maya groaned weakly, her head resting against the doorframe as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The worst of the nausea seemed to ebb, leaving a hollow queasiness in its place. She leaned back in her seat, her eyes closed and her breathing uneven.
“Better?” Carina asked gently, her hand still resting on Maya’s shoulder. She reached for the water bottle in the console, twisting the cap off before offering it.
“A little,” Maya mumbled, taking the bottle. She sipped cautiously, the cool water soothing her throat but sending another warning pang through her stomach. Setting it aside after just a few sips, she sighed, resting her hand on her stomach. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
Carina tilted her head, studying Maya with a mix of concern and affection. “Let’s walk around a bit,” she suggested, her voice calm but purposeful. “The car’s stuffy, and the stop-and-go traffic wasn’t helping. We’ve got time- let’s let some of the congestion ease.”
She unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped out of the car, rounding the back as Maya followed suit, albeit more slowly, her movements still a little shaky. Carina slid her hand into Maya’s and guided her toward a shady spot beneath a cluster of trees. The faint breeze was a welcome relief against the warmth of the morning.
“Do you feel better now?” Carina asked, her eyes scanning Maya’s face, noting the way her flushed cheeks had begun to even out.
“Not as sick,” Maya admitted, unbuttoning the lower part of her shirt to let the cool air reach her skin. She pressed a hand lightly to her stomach, frowning. “That was so weird. It came out of nowhere.”
“I’ve only seen you get car sick like that once,” Carina said, softly, resting her hand on Maya’s stomach, passing her the water again. “We were driving back from the forest and they needed to resurface the roads and it was so bumpy and your belly started hurting and next thing I knew you were throwing up on yourself.”
“Oh god yeah.”
“You’d stayed up late the night before, stargazing,” Carina added, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe when you’re overtired, and you fall asleep in the car, your stomach doesn’t handle the motion as well.” She loosened Maya’s tie and unbuttoned her shirt the rest of the way so she could properly cool off.
“Maybe,” Maya murmured, sipping the water a little. She glanced at Carina. “I didn’t eat breakfast this morning either.”
“You didn’t?” Carina asked, pleased to see Maya was already beginning to look less sick and flushed. “That probably didn’t help, either.”
“I couldn’t stomach it,” she answered, giving Carina a sheepish smile.
“Well, I’ve got some cookies in the car, do you want them?” Carina gestured over her shoulder.
Maya shook her head, the idea of eating making her feel immediately more nauseous.
“Okay,” Carina said with a nod, gently rubbing circles over Maya’s stomach. “Let’s stay here for a couple more minutes and then we’ll get on the road again. Would it be easier on your tummy if I drove through the houses?”
Maya considered it, pressing a hand to her stomach, before shaking her head again. “I think my stomach’s okay enough to stay on the I-5. I just want to get there.”
“Alright,” Carina replied, shifting behind Maya to knead the tense muscles in her shoulders. “Do you want to recap the key points of your talk, or just rest for a bit?”
“Just rest,” Maya murmured, leaning slightly into Carina’s touch, eyes closed.
“Of course, amore,” Carina said softly.
They lingered for another five minutes, the breeze doing its work as Maya’s colour gradually returned. When they returned to the car, Maya settled back into the passenger seat, her shirt still unbuttoned to stave off the heat. Carina rummaged in the back for a moment, then returned with a small plastic bag.
“Just in case your tummy feels bad again,” Carina said softly, as she placed the bag in her lap. She leaned in to kiss both of Maya’s cheeks, her lips lingering just long enough to convey reassurance. Then she adjusted Maya’s seatbelt, careful to ensure it wasn’t pressing against her stomach.
Carina paused, her gaze lingering on Maya’s midsection. Now that they were closer, she couldn’t help but notice how bloated Maya’s stomach seemed. But she quickly dismissed the worry. ‘It was just nerves,’ she reassured to herself, as she climbed back into the driver’s seat.
The car started up again, this time with both windows rolled down. Maya focused on the road ahead, her hands gripping the seatbelt strap as though it anchored her. Carina kept the drive as smooth as possible, taking care to minimize sudden starts and stops. She glanced at Maya frequently, relieved to see her wife looking steadier with each passing mile.
Ten minutes later, their exit came into view. Carina let out a quiet sigh of relief, reaching over to give Maya’s hand a comforting squeeze. The hardest part of the morning was behind them… or so she hoped.
Maya finished getting ready with the help of Carina, and they walked into the convention centre together. Maya was bright and cheerful as she met people and they talked her through the proceedings. They invited her to watch the other speakers from either front row seats or from a green room back stage.
Carina was surprised to hear Maya ask for a spot in the green room, particularly as she had been excited about listening to a man called Wilson Du-Vaunt, who, she had animatedly told Carina, was the expert in reading smoke patterns. She had shown Carina his book and video’s he’d made, showing just how much she admired him.
“You didn’t want to sit up front?” Carina asked, once they were settled on a squashy sofa in a curtained area back stage. Her tone was casual, but her eyes betrayed concern. “Watch the smoke guy and ask your question about smoke velocity?”
“I don’t think I’d be able to focus,” Maya admitted, her fingers twitching nervously in her lap. “I’m so nervous. Maybe afterward?”
“Of course, bambina. How’s your tummy?” Carina asked, resting her hand lightly against Maya’s midsection and giving it a gentle, reassuring pat.
“It’s... okay,” Maya said, though her stomach told a different story. It had started its relentless churning again, threatening to escalate into something worse. She hesitated before adding, “I might just go to the bathroom.”
“Okay, I’ll stay here, give me your hat and blazer, you look a little bit warm again.”
Maya nodded, shrugging off her layers and grimacing as she realized her shirt was damp with sweat, clinging to her skin uncomfortably. She handed everything to Carina and muttered, “Be right back,” before heading off in search of the bathroom.
Finding it was harder than she’d anticipated. The venue was large, and Maya had to ask for directions twice before finally spotting the sign. By the time she reached the door, her stomach had twisted into painful knots, and the acidic burn of bile was rising in her throat.
Inside, she crouched down by the toilet, coughing weakly as her body threatened to expel anything it could. But nothing came. Just the dull ache in her stomach and the persistent wave of nausea that refused to subside.
“Ugh,” she groaned, sitting down on the cool tile floor, her head resting against her knees. She reached down to unbutton her trousers, hoping the looser waistband would ease the pressure.
She’d never felt nerves like this before- not even before the Olympics. Back then, even with her ankle injury looming over her, she’d maintained an icy composure. She was Maya Bishop, a competitor. Calm, collected, and in control. But now, jittery anticipation had stolen that armour, leaving her feeling exposed and helpless.
Her stomach gave another sharp heave, and she leaned forward again, gagging a few times. Still, nothing.
“Oh god,” she whispered, clutching her abdomen.
A soft knock at the door startled her, and for a moment, she thought it might be Carina. But the voice that followed was unfamiliar.
“Are you okay in there? Can I get anyone for you?”
Maya swallowed hard, willing her voice to sound steady. “I’m... I’m okay, thank you.”
“Alright,” the person said before their footsteps retreated down the hall.
Eventually, Maya knew she just needed to go. The only way this nausea was going to leave was for her to do her talk, which was in five minutes.
With a resigned sigh, she hauled herself up, buttoned her trousers, and smoothed her uniform. Her reflection in the mirror was pale and slightly dishevelled, but it would have to do.
When she finally returned to the curtained area, Carina was pacing anxiously, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. The moment she spotted Maya, relief flooded her face.
“Oh, amore, thank goodness,” Carina said, crossing the room quickly. “You’re on in a few minutes; we need to go and wait. Are you okay? Were you sick again?” Her hands instinctively reached for Maya’s blazer, helping her slip it on and fussing over the badges, ensuring everything was perfectly in place.
“I got lost,” Maya mumbled, hating how suffocated she felt in the blazer that usually made her feel like a superhero.
“Oh no,” Carina murmured sympathetically, though a flicker of doubt crossed her mind; Maya never got lost. Not in a place like this. Still, now wasn’t the time to press.
“We have to go,” Carina urged, noticing the conference staff member who’d been looking for Maya earlier reappearing at the edge of the curtain.
Maya nodded stiffly, forcing herself to take one unsteady step after another. Her stomach still churned, her mind screamed at her to run, but Carina’s steady presence beside her kept her moving. They arrived side stage as a firefighter from rural south Washington was finishing up his speech on ‘The Use Of Crop Drenching During Heat Waves.
Suddenly Maya’s nausea kicked up a notch. For a second she thought it was nerves from hearing just how loud the audience was, but seconds later she was looking around for somewhere to be sick, as every muscle in her body tensed with the effort of forcing the sick down.
Carina, ever in tune with her wife, began looking around too, finding Maya a trash can with seconds to spare.
As the presenter talked Maya up, Maya threw up violently, her whole body doubled over. Carina was sure the audience members closest would probably hear it, as she rubbed Maya’s back. Her own panic had risen exponentially, because surely this was no longer nerves.
Her wife had thrown up twice within an hour, been complaining of nausea the whole day, had a stomach ache and a bloated stomach. No, her wife was definitely, definitely ill-
At the sound of her name, Maya straightened up, as if nothing had happened, wiped her mouth with her hand, straightened her uniform, and stepped out onto the stage to rapt applause.
Carina watched on almost in awe as her wife delivered her presentation as if nothing was wrong. She hit every point perfectly, and if it hadn’t been for the prior throw up moment, a slight wobble as she stood there and the odd pause where Maya looked like she was choking down sick, Carina would be none the wiser.
The end of the presentation neared and where Maya would ask for any questions, and her colleagues were meant to ask for some, she ended it instead with a thank you and hurried off, her hands reaching for the trashcan as soon as she had a second.
“Battalion Chief DeLuca-Bishop, you seem to have a couple of questions.”
“I can’t,” Maya coughed at Carina, her voice hoarse, as she threw up again.
“Okay,” Carina said, guiding her to a chair, wiping her sweaty palms on her legs and hurrying on. She was acutely aware of the surprised look on the presenter’s face, as she stepped up to the podium and adjusted the microphone. “Uh... Battalion Chief DeLuca-Bishop isn’t feeling too well. But I’d be happy to answer any questions you have about The use of technology in Urban fire management.”
There was some shuffling and then Carina heard a familiar voice say, “My name is Captain Herrera, May- Battalion Chief DeLuca-Bishop spoke about the use of drones in urban fire scenes. What benefits do they offer?”
Carina nodded, “Drones play a crucial role in urban firefighting by providing real-time situational awareness. They can be deployed to survey hard-to-reach areas, monitor smoke and heat patterns, and assess building conditions from above, which helps improve decision-making during complex fire scenarios. Drones also assist with crowd management and resource deployment, ensuring firefighters can navigate more safely and effectively, especially in densely populated environments. They have proved particularly useful in active combat and M- Battalion Chief DeLuca-Bishop has seen an improvement in scene management since she introduced drones in two alarm fires in her jurisdiction.”
“Wonderful, and is there one more question?”
“Yeah,” Carina squinted, smiling when she saw Jack stand up, “Jack Gibson. The Battalion Chief spoke about the use of digital mapping to command and other external teams from helping the on the ground teams to navigate buildings and improve rescue. Could you delve a little more into that?”
“Absolutely,” Carina smiled, glancing toward her left, though she couldn’t see Maya. “Digital mapping of buildings, including 3D models and GIS data, provides firefighters with critical information about the layout, hazards, and access points of structures before they arrive on scene. This allows for better preplanning, efficient resource allocation, and more informed decision-making during operations. Additionally, by having detailed maps readily available, we can improve navigation, reduce response times, and enhance firefighter safety in urban environments once the firefighters are inside.” Carina glanced over to the side of the stage but Maya was just out of view. “Uhh, Battalion Chief DeLuca-Bishop is working on combining GPS locators on firefighters with this digital map so that there can be live tracking. Whilst the system isn’t without faults, where people renovate spaces without informing the relevant people, so far it has been successful. Battalion Chief DeLuca-Bishop has set out to map every business establishment in her area, and has already loaded all schools and colleges onto her system. What Battalion Chief DeLuca-Bishop is doing is revolutionary and will change the way firefighting is done in Seattle and hopefully state-wide too. As she said, technology is the future and we would be foolish to not utilise it to keep people safe.”
“Thank you so much-”
“Dr DeLuca-Bishop.”
The presenter smiled, and Carina dipped her head in thanks before hurrying off the stage to tend to Maya. She needed to get them home and resting, her poor wife.
“Madonna, Maya, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you were sick,” Carina said, crouching beside her wife as soon as she reached her. Maya was still hunched over the trashcan, though the vomiting seemed to have ceased for now.
“I didn’t realise either,” Maya mumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“No, you said it this morning,” Carina said, her voice tinged with guilt. “I should’ve listened. Oh, amore, I’m so sorry. Let’s get you out of here.”
Maya gave her a weak smile, as Carina pulled her up, leaning against her whilst they made their way back to the green room, trashcan still in tow.
“You answered my questions,” Maya said, her pout prominent, “I can’t believe you did that.”
“Of course I did, Bambina. You worked too hard on them to let them go unheard,” Carina said gently, rubbing her back.
“I’m sorry I’m sick.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Carina admitted, her voice soft, as they entered the green room.
Maya shook her head. “No, you just thought I was nervous. Which I was. Nervous and car sick. But, turns out I’m actually sick, sick too.”
“I should’ve known when I saw your stomach earlier,” Carina murmured, unbuttoning Maya’s jacket with care. It was far too warm for any jacket, and her wife seemed to be running a fever she’d missed too. She frowned as her hand brushed over the tight swell of Maya’s belly beneath the shirt and shorts. “Your poor belly, Bambina. No wonder it hurts.”
“Yeah,” Maya sighed, wincing as she touched her own stomach.
Carina pressed a kiss to her temple. “Let’s get you home and resting. Don’t worry about your uniform- we’ll sort it later.”
The drive home was mercifully uneventful. Maya immediately reclined her seat, shirt and pants unbuttoned to hopefully prevent any more overheating, and dozed off quickly, the hum of the car lulling her into a restless sleep. Carina kept the ride as smooth as possible, thankful the traffic had died down now, glancing at Maya every few minutes with gentle concern.
Carina pulled into their parking spot and turned off the engine, glancing at Maya, who was slumped against the window. Her wife’s pale face was a stark contrast to the usual energy and determination she exuded. She hated to wake her, but it couldn’t be helped, Maya needed bed and rest.
“Maya, we’re home,” Carina said gently, placing a hand on her knee, squeezing a little.
Maya stirred but didn’t respond, her brows knitting together in discomfort.
“Amore, can you sit up?” Carina asked softly, wondering if it would have been easier to get out first.
Maya groaned softly, shifting as if to comply, but froze suddenly, her hand darting to her mouth. “Oh no,” she muttered, her voice muffled.
“Sick?” Carina said, already reaching for the bag they’d bought with them from the convention centre. “Oh definitely sick,” Carina said, as Maya lurched forward with the force of the heave in her stomach. “It’s okay, amore, it’s okay,” she soothed, rubbing Maya’s back as she retched. She winced at the sound, her heart breaking for her wife. “Let it out. You’ll feel better after.”
Maya sat back after a moment, her breathing ragged as she wiped her mouth with trembling fingers. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes, “disgusting.”
“Oh, Maya, no,” Carina said, cupping her face. “Don’t apologise. You’re sick, its not disgusting, and I should’ve realised earlier. We should have stayed at home when you said you were nearly sick. Let’s get you upstairs, alright? You’ll feel better lying in bed.”
Maya tried to stand on her own, but her legs wobbled, and Carina caught her before she could stumble. “Whoa, I’ve got you,” Carina said firmly, wrapping an arm around Maya’s waist to steady her. “Just slow, nice and slow.”
“Thanks,” Maya whispered, leaning heavily against her.
The walk to their apartment felt longer than usual, each step slow and measured. By the time they reached the door, Maya was visibly exhausted, her head drooping against Carina’s shoulder. Carina unlocked the door with one hand, supporting Maya with the other.
Inside, Carina guided Maya straight to the couch. “Sit here for a moment,” she said, easing Maya down onto the cushions. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”
“My stomach hurts quite a bit,” Maya mumbled lying down on their sofa.
“It does?” Carina asked, brushing Maya’s hair back from her forehead. She rested the back of her hand on it and sighed, “well you definitely have a fever.”
“I don’t feel good.”
“I know. I know. I can’t believe you managed to do you speech,” Carina whispered, working on peeling Maya’s damp clothes off her.
“Can you check my tummy?”
“Are you worried about it?” Carina asked, laying her hand on her wife’s bloated stomach.
“It feels weird.”
“Okay, feel it. Give your tummy a check. Did you throw up at all whilst I wasn’t with you?” Carina asked, realising she should get Maya a basin before she even thought about pressing on her stomach. It was so bloated; she was sure the lightest pressure would induce a burp and right now Maya was sick enough for a burp to quickly turn into puke.
“No, just with you.”
Carina crouched down next to the couch, her hand still resting gently on Maya’s bloated stomach. “Alright, I’m going to check, amore. Let me know if anything feels too uncomfortable.”
Maya nodded; her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. Carina pressed lightly on her abdomen, starting just below her ribs and moving downward. The bloating was noticeable, but it didn’t feel alarming to Carina; just the classic signs of a stomach bug.
“Everything feels normal for someone who’s been throwing up all day,” Carina said softly, brushing her fingers through Maya’s hair again. “Your stomach’s just unhappy, poor thing. Nothing serious, but maybe no more speeches or car rides whilst you recover.”
“Yeah, not gonna argue with that,” Maya chuckled, curling up a little.
Carina rubbed gentle circles on Maya’s back before leaning in to kiss her temple. “Bed is way more comfy,” she whispered. “And the bathroom is closer for when you inevitably get sick.”
Maya let out a small groan, sitting up slowly and cradling her aching stomach. “I wish you could carry me,” she mumbled, half-joking but fully exhausted.
“I think I can,” Carina said, her tone laced with playful confidence.
“I’m too heavy.”
“You’re not too heavy. I can piggyback you. Come on,” Carina turned around and gave her shoulders a little pat. “Hop on.”
“Really?”
“Yes, don’t underestimate your wife. I go to the gym, remember.”
Maya rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a faint smile. She didn’t have the energy to argue, and the idea of walking felt daunting. Hesitantly, she placed her hands on Carina’s shoulders and allowed herself to be lifted. Carina adjusted her effortlessly, Maya wrapping her legs loosely around her waist.
The ride was far from smooth- Carina’s gait jostled Maya’s unsettled stomach more than she’d hoped- but it was better than walking. The dismount, however, was another story. Maya landed on the bed with an ungraceful flop, her head hitting the pillow as she exhaled heavily. “See, I told you.”
“Firefighter Doctor. Ben 2.0.”
“Hush,” Carina chuckled, brushing a few stray strands of damp hair from Maya’s face, “pyjamas?”
“No, I’m too hot,” Maya replied, squirming uncomfortably. “I just want this bra off.”
“Allora, at least ask me on a date first,” Carina teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she helped Maya unclip the offending garment.
Maya let out a contented sigh as the bra was removed, the tension in her chest easing instantly. Carina tossed it deftly into the hamper, shooting her a proud smile. “There, much better. Now, let’s get you settled.”
Maya sighed, flopping back onto the bed dramatically. “You’re too good to me.”
“I’m your wife, its my job,” Carina said softly, pulling the comforter off the bed and just covering Maya in the top sheet. “And even if you weren’t my wife, I’d still look after your cute butt.”
“Why did my body pick the worst day to get sick,” Maya groaned curling up a little.
“You’ve been non-stop since you started the research, every large fire your teams has been to you’ve been there too. And that’s not forgetting the effort you’ve been to to make the mapping team and support them. Your body has been working hard, and unfortunately it was a day too soon in terms of making you sick so you’d rest,” Carina chuckled, “you have a whole week of now Battalion Chief Bambina, so we can just take things easy. Superhero firefighters need days off too.”
Maya managed a weak smile. “You’re the real superhero, you know that?”
Carina brushed a stray strand of hair from Maya’s forehead, her touch lingering for a moment. “And you’re the strongest person I know. Now,” she sighed, cupping her cheeks, “rest, bambina. I’ll grab your water and some meds.”
As Carina stood, Maya reached out, her fingers brushing against Carina’s hand. “Stay?”
“I’ll be right back,” Carina promised, squeezing Maya’s hand. “Two minutes, then I’m all yours.”
True to her word, Carina returned moments later with a glass of water and the basin, just in case. She slid into bed beside Maya, pulling her close.
“Let’s just do paracetamol for now, that will help your sore tummy and your fever. I don’t want to overload your stomach, when I’m sure it’s still quite sick.”
Maya took the medicine and nuzzled against her shoulder, her breath evening out as the tension in her body began to fade a little. Just being held by Carina was enough to make anyone feel better.
“Babe?”
“Mmhmm,” Carina said, looking down at Maya, brushing her hand over her ribs.
“Was my speech good?”
“It was excellent, you hit every point just like you rehearsed, and it was animated and engaging. You did amazingly. I- how you didn’t throw up during it, I will never know. I could see you were struggling but honestly I think that was just because I’m your wife.”
“I don’t really remember it. I just remember feeling really sick the whole time.”
“I think Vic was videoing it, we can watch it when you feel better.”
“Okay,” Maya said sleepily.
“I’ll be right here when you wake up, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Mmm, love you.”
“Love you too, sorry for pushing you when you said you were sick.”
“It’s okay.”