Brett and Elizabeth

My deepest gratitude to Mused, for all his help with this.

~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth raced down the hall and ran smack into Brett. He was coming out of the kitchen to see who was trying to beat down his front door.

He grabbed his sister's arm to steady her. "Easy there, Sprite. Where's the fire?" he tried to joke.

"It's him, Brett; it's Dad at the door!" Elizabeth hissed. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "I saw him out the window." She let go of his hand and clutched at his forearm.

A dark look crossed Brett's face, then left as quickly as it came.

The pounding on the door continued.

"Jesus Christ, he's persistent if nothing else," Brett muttered. "Let go, Elizabeth, so I can get the door." He pulled away, then thought to add, "Just...stay close."

Brett jerked open the door and their father entered without a word or greeting. It rubbed Brett the wrong way, but he held his tongue. He watched as his dad's eyes fixed on his little sister, who moved to stand at Brett's side. He gave her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze.

"Your mother said you'd come here." Joe McCarty's icy blue eyes pierced into his daughter's.

Elizabeth's heart began to pound in her chest. She swallowed and nodded. "I had no where else to go. You threw me out." She tried to stand tall and not cower.

"And for good reason," he insisted.

"Getting pregnant is a good reason for tossing your daughter out on the street?" Elizabeth's voice began to rise. So did her father's anger.

"Elizabeth!" Brett tried to issue warning.

Their father raised his hand, his eyes glued on his daughter. By God, I'll show her, he thought viciously, I'll put her in her place once--

Brett shoved his sister behind him. "Not here, not in this house. Never again!"

Joe McCarty swung his gaze to his son. Eyes narrowing, he said, "She got herself pregnant, you idiot! The little bitch spread her legs and got knocked up and you're going to allow her to stay with you?"

"I hardly think she got that way herself." Brett's voice dripped with sarcasm, but his father ignored it.

"Send her away, Brett, or you're no longer my son!"

The decision was an easy one. Brett didn't even have to think about it. He spoke with quiet determination. "Then I'm no longer your son. Get the fuck out of my house. Now."

For a horrifying moment Elizabeth thought their father was actually going to challenge Brett. She saw him clenching his jaw, as if trying to make a decision. But with one last withering glare at his daughter, Joe turned and slammed out the door.

Brother and sister stood together, hand in hand, each trying to absorb what had just happened. It was Elizabeth who broke the silence.

"I thought he was going to hit me again."

"He was."

"Why does he hate me, Brett?" It didn't bother her so much anymore, but still, she asked. Elizabeth looked up at her brother.

Brett shook his head. "It's not just you, Elizabeth. Hell, he hates me, too. I don't think he likes Mom all that much, either."

"He's fucked up."

"I know," he sighed. "I don't know why, maybe it's the booze. I don't have the answers you want." He enfolded Elizabeth in his arms. "Wish I did, though. I wish things could be different. But he won't hurt you again. I promise."

Elizabeth was enjoying the feel of her brother's arms around her when she realized she was enjoying it a little too much. She pulled away. "Well, I hate him." She folded her arms across her chest.

"Don't waste your energy on such a useless emotion, Sprite. Hate will only eat you up inside. Besides," Brett reached out and touched her still-flat belly, "you've got someone else to think about now."

Elizabeth smiled and rolled her eyes heavenward. "Don't I know it."

Brett and Elizabeth hadn't heard from their mother at all, and that really hurt. They spent Thanksgiving with Dave and Alicia at their parents' home. It was the best holiday Elizabeth could remember in a long time. Ever, really. No one fought at their house, everyone just loved.

Alicia and Elizabeth were in the kitchen drying the china and putting it away when Brett and Dave walked in. They stood in the doorway watching as the two girls laughed and giggled and tried not to drop the heirloom dishes.

The two were as different as night was from day. Alicia was blonde, Elizabeth was dark. Alicia was tall, Elizabeth was not. While Alicia's eyes were as warm and brown as pudding, Elizabeth's were as blue as the summer sky. They'd been best friends their entire lives and really, the only things they had in common was their love of football and brothers that adored them. Yet, they were inseparable.

"The game's almost on, if you two are about done in here." Dave spoke up, interrupting the girls, who were in a fit of laughter about God only knew what. He took a look around. "I think there's more water on the floor than in the sink, Brett."

Brett laughed and grabbed the roll of paper towels. "Finish up, Elizabeth; then get out of here. I don't need you slipping on the water." He knew she would, too, if given half a chance. He took the plate she'd been drying, then ushered the two girls out. He and Dave made quick work of the last of the dishes, then cleaned up the floor.

The four of them watched the Lions and Vikings play in Detroit. When it was over, Brett and Elizabeth went looking for Dave and Alicia's parents to thank them and say goodbye. They found the elder Parkers in the study off the master bedroom.

"You know you are both welcome here anytime," Mr. Parker said to the pair as he stood to shake Brett's hand and hug Elizabeth.

"Please come for Christmas Eve," Mrs. Parker insisted. "Really, you must. Grandma Ruth will be here and I know she'd love to see you."

"And Blaire always makes enough to feed an army," Mr. Parker interjected.

"Now, Thom..." Mrs. Parker's voice held a playful note of warning.

Elizabeth demurred, "I don't know..."

"No, no, I won't hear of you saying no, Elizabeth. Brett, I expect to see you both here Christmas Eve at 3:30 sharp." Mrs. Parker instructed.

"Yes, ma'am." Brett leaned and kissed her cheek. "We'll be here."

Long after Brett and Elizabeth left, Dave and Alicia sat in the living room talking. There was a late game on, Chiefs and Broncos, so Dave stayed to watch it with his sister. Alicia, like her older brother, was a die-hard football fanatic. Their parents, on the other hand, were not. But, out of loving respect, they gave the living room a wide berth whenever their kids were watching a game.

Alicia returned to the living room and handed Dave his requested left-over turkey, mustard, and stuffing sandwich, liberally smeared with cold gravy. He took a big bite and groaned with pleasure.

"That's disgusting, David." Alicia looked on in horror. "How the hell can you eat that?" She'd felt nauseous just making it.

"This, my dear, is a culinary masterpiece. Thank you." He took another big bite. "Want some?" He held it out to her.

"God, no!" She sat down on the couch next to her brother and tried to concentrate on the game, but her thoughts kept returning to Elizabeth. She'd almost passed out when Elizabeth had told her she was pregnant, and had gotten tossed, quite literally, out the front door. Of course, Alicia being Alicia, the first thing she had done was tell her mom; they were very close. The Parkers wanted Elizabeth to come stay with them, but she declined, opting instead to stay on with Brett.

"What's wrong, Alli? You're miles away." Dave's voice broke into her thoughts. He crammed the last of his sandwich in his mouth and took a big swallow of water.

"Just thinking about Elizabeth, I guess. I hope she's going to be alright."

"Aw, sweetie, she'll be OK. Brett will take care of her. Don't worry." He put an arm around her and hugged her.

"She's so young, David. I don't know what I'd do if that ever happened to me." She and Elizabeth were very nearly the exact same age, and it had scared the hell out of her.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be thrown out on your ass like Elizabeth was." Dave spoke with a bitterness that surprised Alicia. He'd been more upset about it than he'd let on, she realized. He rose, grabbed his plate and started out of the living room, then looked back at his sister. "I tell you what, Alligator, it damn well better not ever happen to you." He winked at her to soften his words. "And it won't be Mom and Dad you'll be needing to worry about."

Alicia threw a pillow at his retreating back, and smiled at his booming laugh.

Christmas Eve morning Brett called their parents. His mother answered and they spoke for a while. The conversation was a sad and disjointed one. She reiterated that Elizabeth had betrayed them by getting pregnant and added a final, stinging blow.

"Your father and I decided she may come home, but really, Brett, only if she does something about it first." Her voice was cold, measured.

Brett was dumbfounded. "You mean, get an abortion? You can't mean that." He felt sick.

"Yes. That's exactly what I mean."

"I don't think that's something she's planning on doing, Mom." Brett spoke between clenched teeth.

"She's ruined her life, Brett. And she's going to ruin yours, too, if you let her."

"OK, Mom," he sighed. "I know where you stand. I'm really sorry I called. Merry Christmas." And with that, and a heavy heart, he hung up.

Brett didn't tell Elizabeth about his conversation with their mother. There was really no point; it would only have served to upset her. Elizabeth was beginning to come to terms with her situation and had gone to see her doctor a week ago, setting the baby's due date at June 12. She had also finally quit spending her early mornings hovering over the toilet. And anyway, Brett knew he wouldn't have let Elizabeth go under any circumstance, save Eliabeth herself wanting to leave. He'd grown to love having her there.

Fucking Jimbo, as Brett had taken to calling him out of Elizabeth's earshot, had not reared his bastard head since he told Elizabeth he wanted nothing more to do with her, and that was fine with Brett. Elizabeth had breathed not another word about him to her brother, and Brett felt it best to let it be.

Christmas Eve at the Parkers was perfect. Everything about that family seemed perfect, at least to Brett and Elizabeth, who, considering their own family life, had never known anything but unperfect.

***************

The rest of the season passed slowly and uneventfully, with Winter eventually releasing it's icy grip on the landscape around them. And as the days grew warmer and lengthened, Elizabeth grew bigger. While far from huge, she'd long since outgrown her own clothes and, when at home, satisfied herself with Brett's oh-so-comfy boxer briefs and t-shirts.

Brett thought she looked adorable. He'd never really thought of his sister as a woman, much less as a mother. He found himself undeniably attracted to her. He tried to chalk it up to being in awe of her ability as a woman to create and sustain life.

And to be sure, that was partly it. He was amazed at her strength, yet touched by her vulnerability, and tried desperately to deny it was anything more than that.

Elizabeth was nearing the seven month mark when she called Brett over to the sofa. "Sit down." She patted the spot next to her. She lifted up Brett's blue Dodge MoPar t-shirt she'd confiscated earlier that day and took his hand, placing it on her belly. "Feel it?" she asked, smiling up at him. The baby was especially active that evening.

Brett felt for a moment. "No," he shook his head, disappointment registering on his face. He started to remove his hand.

"Wait...there!"

Brett's face lit up. "Oh my God, I felt it!" He grinned at Elizabeth. "That's weird. Cool, but weird."

Their gazes locked together for a long minute. Brett moved first, by a millisecond at most, and touched his lips to his sister's.

Elizabeth's whole being began to tingle the moment Brett's lips pressed to hers. She felt his tongue prod gently at her mouth; she parted her lips to allow it entry, in return allowing him to have her own.

Brett cupped her face with his large hands and slowly, gently explored her mouth with his. He was tender and hesitant at first, then grew a bit bolder when Elizabeth didn't pull away. He'd wanted to for such a long time, yet now a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered to him. Stop, it's wrong, she's your sister. The voice grew more insistent until he could no longer ignore it. He broke the kiss with a gut wrenching groan

"God Elizabeth, I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that. Jesus, I'm sorry." He couldn't look at her.

Elizabeth reached out and touched his cheek. "Don't say you're sorry, Brett, because then I have to say it, too. And I don't want to," she whispered.

"I just can't take advantage of you like this, Sprite, you're pregnant." And you're my sister, he thought. He raked a hand through his dark hair. Calling his sister by her little girl nickname suddenly seemed strange. In his eyes, she was no longer a little girl.

"You're hardly taking advantage of me, Brett. If I want to kiss you, then by God, I'll kiss you." Elizabeth turned his face and pressed her lips to his once more.

"Far be it for me to deny a pregnant woman anything," Brett muttered against her mouth. He felt himself grow hard, yet knew in his heart he'd never touch her while she was pregnant. Not that he didn't want to. He'd never wanted anything more in his life than to take Elizabeth to the bedroom and make slow, gentle love to her.

Their feelings for one another had grown, changed, and evolved exponentially during the course of the past several months. They'd tried to deny it at first and act as if nothing had changed. Though they had yet to talk about it or verbally acknowledge it in any way, the looks and lingering touches were hard to ignore.

Brett put a hand behind Elizabeth's neck and held her to him. His tongue once again delved deep into her mouth. God save his soul, he couldn't help but touch her. His other hand stole up under her shirt and gently cupped one full, soft breast. The pad of his thumb brushed the pert nipple; Elizabeth moaned into his mouth.

With a hunger he hadn't known he posessed, Brett's lips traveled a wet trail down Elizabeth's neck. She arched her spine and tilted her head back, silently telling him how much she enjoyed his touch.

Underneath his shirt she wore a pair of his boxers. His hand slipped through and his fingers found the soft wetness of her slit. So much for not touching her, he thought. Any lingering doubts he had fell away as Elizabeth whispered her acceptance in his ear.

"Brett, please," she urged.

Brett stood and took Elizabeth by her hand. He put an arm around her and together they walked down the hall to the bedroom. They both knew what they wanted; there was no need for words.

Brett lifted Elizabeth's shirt up over her head, then held her steady as she removed his boxers she was wearing. He smiled as he gazed at the beauty that was his sister; she looked absolutely adorable to him. He had never desired a woman more in his life.

Elizabeth laid down in the big bed and watched her brother undress. He was a large man, broad through the shoulders, though not bulky. She noticed for the first time that the hair on his chest was several shades darker than what was on his head. It was nearly black. Her eyes followed the trail of dark curls all the way down, then all the way back up again. She met his eyes and smiled.

Brett climbed in next to Elizabeth and pulled her close, as close as he could without putting pressure on the small mound that was her belly. They kissed and touched again, taking their time exploring each other's bodies. There was no rush.

Brett inhaled sharply when he felt his sister's hand close over his shaft. He happily returned the favor by slipping his hand between her thighs. "Elizabeth," he whispered, "I want you. But only when you're ready."

"I'm ready now, Brett." Her voice was soft, yet insistent.

"I don't want to hurt you." His blue eyes locked on hers.

To Elizabeth it seemed as if her brother was searching her eyes, her very soul; for what, she didn't know. She knew only that she loved him and wanted all of him. "You're not going to hurt me." She reached out a small hand and traced the outline of his lips.

"The baby-"

"Will be fine. Shh, it's OK." She placed a finger over his lips.

Brett bent his head to Elizabeth's and placed gentle kisses on each eye, her nose, and her mouth. "Turn over, on your other side."

Elizabeth did so until her back was pressed to his front. She could feel his arousal nudging intimately against the juncture of her thighs. Brett reached down and carefully lifted her upper leg. Positioning himself between her legs, slowly, ever so slowly, he entered her.

Brett's arms curled around Elizabeth's body as he began to move. Pulling her tight against his front, he buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply, exhaling a loud groan.

Elizabeth took his hand in hers and guided it down between her legs. "Touch me, Brett. Please."

Brett's fingers found the sensitive nub between her folds and began to stroke as he gently moved in and out of her. He felt his orgasm building and tried to slow down, but his sister had other ideas. She began to grind against him. The feeling of her smooth butt against his thighs nearly sent him over the edge.

"Brett, oh my God," she moaned. "Please, I want-I need...oh God, Brett!" she shrieked as her orgasm consumed her.

Brett realized then his sister was a screamer. He'd never heard anything like it, but it turned him on immensely. He came hard, with a shout of his own to match Elizabeth's.

They lay that way for a little while, then Elizabeth twisted around in Brett's arms and tucked her head down against his chest. She reached up and plucked gently at the crisp, curly hairs covering it.

"You OK?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Elizabeth moved back so she could see him. She smiled, somewhat shyly. "Oh, Brett, no. It was wonderful. You were wonderful. I've never felt so thoroughly...loved."

"I do love you, Elizabeth." Brett confessed in a whisper.

"I love you, too." She tucked her head back down against him and continued to run her fingers through the soft mat of hair covering his chest.

"You were awfully loud," he said, amusement clearly evident in his voice.

"I guess I was, wasn't I?" Elizabeth gave a little laugh.

"You're going to scare the hell out of the nurses when you go into labor."

Elizabeth denied it vehemently. "That's different. I bet I won't make a sound," she insisted.

****************

She screamed like a wild Irish banshee. Brett thought he was going to lose his mind watching each contraction rip through her tiny body. The monitor showed the beginning of each one, even before Elizabeth could feel it, yet Brett's warning that another was coming did little to help her cope.

Elizabeth detested the monitor. After the first half hour she ripped it off with a curse that would have made a sailor blush. She wanted out of that bed, and out of it immediately. She needed to walk.

It continued for hours. They walked, she squatted, they walked, she knelt, then they walked some more. Knowing she'd wind up in bed, Elizabeth refused every drug they offered her. She wanted no part of that; she needed to move.

Dave and Alicia were there as soon as possible, and took turns walking with her.

"I've got her for a minute, Brett. Go take a load off, man," Dave said to him, putting an arm around Elizabeth, who leaned heavily into his side.

Brett tried to refuse, but Elizabeth spoke up, "Go get something to eat. You've got to be starving."

"You heard the pregnant lady. Go." Dave instucted with a wave of his free arm.

Still, Brett tried to linger.