“What’s wrong?” “I think ‘m in labor…” Cloud looked up at him, her eyes searching for something to distract her from the pain that she ...new would grow worse. “Shit.” She placed her hand on her stomach at her husband’s words and sat up, wincing as she did so. It didn’t take DeadShot long to quickly pull his clothes on and he moved to her side of the bed, helping her to stand. Cloud leaned against him, clad only in one of her satin nightgowns and shivering even in the heated room. Her arms. They had a hull on wheels that ran on tracks. The oars were geared to the wheels ... somehow ... she didn't understand it ... exactly.What she did understand was what watching those men row ... biceps bulging, pectorals straining, those massive backs leaning into the work with their neck muscles standing out ... all to pull those massive oar grips and move the weight of that hull another foot ... did to her mind. They wore wrestling singlets ... those mens leotards ... thank God they were. More

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