Sally nervously sat in the waiting room, scouring the posters and flicking through Health Department leaflets. Who knew such an industry existed, 5 lines of common sense followed by a page and a half of translations into other languages. Perhaps they should forgo the English bit altogether and just send text messages to her fellow patients. Judging by their age she doubted if they could read or spell a complete sentence in English even if they claimed it as their mother tongue. She felt her now up to date expertise on Listeria and Toxplasmosis was not really going to prepare her for what was to come; and nor was the flashback to classic 80s sci-fi TV series V, where the girl gave birth to the hybrid creature.  After a series of garbled names floated through the tannoy, a rather flustered assistant yelled out Sally's name. Shocked into reality, she scrambled to gather her belongings and promptly stumbled over a neighbouring chair. The commotion briefly interrupted the machinations of the room with the odd snigger escaping.

Dr.  Jefferies wasn't what Sally had expected. She was mid thirties, with shoulder length blonde hair tied back, and actually smiled. Conversely, Sally was not Dr. Jefferies’ usual type of patient: she was over 20, wasn't chewing gum and didn't enter the examination room talking into a mobile phone. Madeline Jefferies’ smile was genuine - perhaps this was one patient for whom she wouldn't have to rubber stamp a termination procedure. 

The formalities completed, Sally was asked the estimated date of conception. There was no easy answer to this, and Sally hesitated. An awkward silence arose. The doctor eagerly rotated her circular calculator, estimating that if Sally was here she must be at least 9 weeks. Sally weighed up her options, and at last spat out her uncertainty but perhaps she was as far gone as 13 weeks. Sally had decided to err on the side of caution. With this unlikely news, Dr. Jefferies bounded into action. Asking Sally if she needed to pee, and with a positive response attained, she grabbed a portable sonogram. Freezing blue gel was liberally spread over Sally's lower abdomen and inevitably knickers. Sally really wished she'd gone for the Brazilian special that Mandy had offered when she last did her pedicure. The doctor pressed the mike so hard into Sally's bladder that she almost wet herself. Distracted by the blurry picture that emerged on the monitor, Sally restrained herself from head butting said doctor, and let out a growly exclamation instead. The doctor nodded in agreement, yes this was indeed a wondrous sight.

“13 weeks you say?”  Sally let the question hang, she was committing to nothing. “Hmm. Strange. I'd say you're 16 at least.” The Doctor went over the body areas of the foetus, pointing out to Sally as she went along. Sally heard nothing.  Bad sci-fi movies had warned her about accelerated pregnancies but this was ridiculous, this was nearly twice what it should be. The Doctor paused as she checked the organs and spine, and hurriedly finished the examination. What she thought may have been a bit of good news for a change, could now well  turn out to be a congenital deformity. “Okay Sally, I'm going to schedule you for another exam tomorrow with a colleague of mine. I just want to be sure that this pregnancy is going as smooth as it can. It is difficult to tell from the position of the baby today, but we want to make sure.” Sally picked up on the unsaid. Telling them the father was an Alien really wasn't an option, but she felt suddenly tired and owning up might make the whole experience pass quicker. “Er..Um..The father is...well..isn't from around here.” Pulling off her gloves Dr Jefferies replied “You mean he can't make the examination?” Sally gulped “Er no.  He's an Alien.”  Dr. Jefferies washed up and thought naturally Sally was referring to illegal work in the UK: “Oh I see,” clearly not seeing at all, “and do you know his family medical history?”  Sally realized then that telling the truth was going to be harder than she thought.

“Erm, no. Well, he's an Alien..”, and let her last word softly fall on deafened ears. Dr. Jefferies was already walking through the doorway with clip board ordering extra blood work on the presumption that the 'alien' father was a carrier of sickle cell or some other terrible disease.

The French waiter at Cafe Flo was folding back the shuttered doors, awaiting the lunch 'rush'.  He spied the disorganised Niall Jefferies approaching and quickly turned on his heels, but not before sneering at the unidentifiable stains that littered his brown corduroy jacket. Sucking in his cheeks for added sound effect his tuts were audible to Sally as she sat drinking her coffee at the bar. She watched his exaggerated swagger as he pushed the swing door into the kitchen. She sighed at  the thought he was gay, such a shame, and then remembered she couldn't smoke the cigarette she played with in her hands. Damn nanny state she thought, sighed again, and remembered that she was pregnant and could order a second slice of cake and not feel guilty.  So there was a silver lining to this pregnancy malarkey.  

Niall shuffled his papers, grumbled at the tardiness of the waiter under his breath, and generally gave the air of an eccentric academic. In his own eyes he was the sophisticated man about town, the most entertaining of dinner guests, a real catch for the opposite sex.  And as such he felt justified in drinking in Sally's long legs and longed to see her skirt hike higher.  His fantasies were halted by the arrival of the huffy Jacques carrying his order of tomato soup. Jacques waisted no time in perfecting his humiliation of clientèle and whipped out the linen napkin and placed it on Niall's lap. Flicking his hips in his turnabout, in a movement reminiscent of a S.S. Officer, Jacques actions caught Sally's attention reflected in the bar mirror. A wry smile crossed her face. She found arrogance extremely sexy, probably why she ended up impregnated by an Alien and not Keith the school librarian. 

The second slice of cake was probably too much and Sally felt the urge to purge, and in a hurry. She made a quick exit towards the toilet, just at the same time that Niall decided to fish around in his battered brief case that he'd left true to form 3 feet from his table. Her speeding body was no match for the downward dog position that Niall had assumed and the inevitable crash followed. Niall's legs caught the table, and the consequences were not pretty. Needless to say Sally was no longer wearing a beige skirt. The Jackson Pollock soup design did not meet with her approval.

Jeremy turned up his i-pod, and leaned his head onto the window of the 73 Bus, there by adding to the greasy round smudges that had accumulated over time. He hoped his escape from double maths with Mr. Harrington had been a successful one. The dread he felt in the pit of his stomach, compounded by the slow meandering of his get away vehicle, tripled when he saw the svelte figure of Ms. Sally Jenks hail the bus.

His heart pounded as he heard her climb the stairs. He sank lower in his seat, raising his collar hoping to avoid detection. She passed by him. The whiff of tomato soup unmistakeably lingered in the air. Jeremy groaned, he knew that he wouldn't be able to open another tin of Campbell's with out images of Miss Sally 'Jerk off' Jenks running through his 15 year old head. Noticeably aroused, he knew he couldn't stand up to get off at the next stop. He made the decision to stay on the bus, and see where the focus of teenage lust got off. Maybe he'd discover where she lived or where she bought her lingerie. As his thoughts sprinted into new and more depraved directions he clung to the hope that his brain wouldn't act up and leave him stranded on the 73 wacking off in front of the conductor. In any event if Miss Jenks caught him he could always pretend he was having one of his turns.

Niall let himself into his his sister's flat, and slammed the door. He had failed to see how today could get much worse having committed his last tenner to lunch, half of which ended up being worn by an ungrateful strumpet who had in turn used his briefcase to house the contents of her stomach. Then he had realised that he was not only late to deliver a lecture to a bunch of snotty freshmen, but the notes for the lecture and the travel card required to get there were now covered with her vomit. This had been compounded by a verbal warning from the Departmental Head and snide remarks about his extra curricular activities impinging on his Real Life responsibilities. 

It was his turn to prepare dinner, and he figured out pretty quickly that the wilted vegetables housed in the fridge would need nothing short off a miracle to transform them into something edible. Opening a bottle of wine to help with culinary inspiration it occurred to him that pasta primavera was the only option to hide the sad vegetables and his failure to buy more. At this moment of epiphany his sister Madeline bounded through the door. Under her arm was a stack of paperwork. She grabbed the largest glass she could find and poured. She eyed Niall as she downed nearly half the glass. “Oh, like that was it?” he asked genially. He figured he should feign interest, especially as she was letting him stay rent free in her box room.  She exited the room and shouted “Pour me another and I'll tell you about it”.

Over dinner she described the unusual scan and blood results. Not all the results were back, but they would be in time for the patient’s second scan. If only Sally Jenks had known that she was now arousing another male of the human species, but this time with her blood.  Either way she would have been equally repulsed.

Part Three of our Story by Five Authors will be continued by Gareth Evans.