“It’s not digging in anywhere, is it?” The coyote dug in a finger or two under a broad white band tied in a bow around the hyena’s belly, just to make sure it wasn’t [i]too[/i] tight, then looked both the hyena and herself up and down in an adjacent mirror. “I’m going to tell you now, if you’re uncomfortable now, it’ll drive you crazy by the end of the shoot.” The coyote’s name was Henrietta; the hyena’s, Elaine. They were around the same age, but Henrietta had started her surrogacy career earlier, so she was the more experienced, the “senior” of the two. Henrietta had taken a liking to the hyena, so when she went for a photoshoot—as she did for each of her pregnancies—she decided to invite Elaine along. Elaine took this to mean she was also going to be in the shoot, which Henrietta didn’t mind. Elaine paid for herself anyhow. Elaine looked in the changing room mirror and centered the bow at the front of her belly, then adjusted the strapless bandeau top she wore, also shining white, and the short, pleated skirt of the same color. The hyena’s eyepatch was the same black it ever was. But on the whole, Elaine thought she made it work. Henrietta, for her part, had wanted to change things up a notch, so she wore an open Hawaiian shirt, draping down from her shoulders over an equally vibrantly floral-patterned frilled bikini. The photographers, a couple named Sam and Talmage—an orca-kobold hybrid and a snake dude, respectively, both male—had provided Henrietta with an oversized plastic-fabric flower that she could pose with. Elaine finally answered Henrietta’s question. “No, it fits fine.” “Great! You wanna take your pics first, or should I?” Henrietta held the flower under her shoulder, her eyes drifting toward the dressing room door. It took an apprehensive moment for the hyena to answer. “Nah, you can go first.” Elaine shrugged for a second. “I don’t really know what I’m doing, so I’d rather see it before I do it, if that makes sense.” “This isn’t your first surrogacy, is it?” “No,” Elaine replied. “I just haven’t had pictures taken.” Henrietta smiled and nodded in silent understanding, just as a small, polite knock came from the dressing room door. “You two ready?” It was Talmage speaking, if the deep tone was any indication. “Yeah, just about,” Henrietta answered as she opened the door. Talmage looked the two very pregnant surrogates up and down for a moment to double-check their clothing. Nothing looked off, so he turned around and, with a small hand wave, led the two over to the studio proper. The photography studio had at some point been a farmhouse before the city caught up with and built around it. The little ten-acre plot it had been built on was still intact, though, so the view out the window was still rather pleasant—a well-enough-kept lawn, then the half-wild back forty, dotted with a couple dozen conifers standing silent watch. The view was framed by a window, the glass new, the molding at least a century old, carved into tastefully intricate patterns. Elaine didn’t notice them. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the very pregnant orcobold standing in front of the window, wearing only board shorts, holding a color test card by his side and looking absently out the glass before turning back to the two subjects and the photographer. Sam (the orcobold) and Elaine had missed one another coming in—Sam was most likely setting up equipment—and nobody had told Elaine about Sam’s not-little very-much-not-a-secret. His belly looked fit to burst. “Wait a second, let me double-check everything.” Talmage got behind the camera and switched between looking through the viewfinder and poking around on a tablet he had on a tripod next to him. A few mumbled, technical-sounding words followed, the deep nature of Talmage’s voice contrasting with the half-said nature of the words he almost spoke, while Sam held up the calibration card. “Held up” is too simple a phrase. It took a little longer than expected, so he started posing with the card, first like it was a mugshot, then a game-show prize, then a paper fan as he looked over it toward Talmage with coyly lowered eyelids and stroked and rubbed his belly. If Sam was trying to get a rise out of Talmage, it didn’t work. The serpent-like creature straightened up and scratched under his frill for a moment. “Who’s going first?” ----- Henrietta had a lot of fun, taking shots both in front of the window and in front of a plain white background set up for the purpose. Both with and without her shirt, she first took a few shots with the traditional cradling and nurturing the belly—which, fair enough, those were emotions she felt every time, just as much if not more with each pregnancy—but then she got more playful. First she turned on the charm and got those sultry eyes she was too good at for a few shots, then she posed with the flower and a beach ball that Sam got out of the prop closet for a few shots more. For one of the pictures, instead of bopping the ball up into the air, she hit it across the room. This was, of course, the one time Elaine hadn’t been paying attention. One of the shots on the card, therefore, was of Henrietta raising her hands, her mouth frozen open in a panicked silent gasp. (Elaine kept that one.) Finally, though, after (among other things) posing over a piano stool with the flower held between her legs—which made both Elaine and Talmage blush, something Elaine didn’t know the snake could do, and made Sam laugh harder than was probably healthy—the coyote shrugged and said she was out of ideas. That left Elaine on deck. Elaine stepped up, looked into the camera for a second, and breathed. She had been feeling somewhat off all morning, just enough to worry her but not enough to bring up to anyone else. But her nerves compounded the odd feeling—assuming they didn’t explain it—and it wasn’t making her happy. There was a monitor facing her way, so she could see herself with the camera’s eye, and using that she adjusted the bow around her belly one more time. It looked fine. Honestly, it looked fine before that. But her hands needed something to do. She looked into the camera and, on Talmage’s instruction (and Sam’s and, more importantly, Henrietta’s encouraging thumbs-ups), let a warm smile fall over her as she cradled her pregnant belly, bursting with cubs. Something inside her shifted, hard. She burped, which she didn’t expect. “Excuse me—” Her water broke. One of the nice things about the medicine of present days was that labor and birth had basically been solved, mostly with a series of rigorous, though by no means difficult, prenatal treatments, starting as early as before implantation (if the mother knew in advance of course) and continuing all the way through to birth. There was one side effect though, one that the doctors so far could not or would not fix: depending on the mother, labor could come on fast, hard, and without warning. Which was how Elaine found herself lowering herself to the floor, the better to push into the contraction. There was a second’s strange, petrified silence. Until Henrietta dropped her phone back into her purse and turned around. Henrietta barked, literally, all eyes now on her. Then she started barking orders: “Talmage, towels. Soft ones, that you don’t need back. I’ll pay for them. Sam, you got an electric kettle?” “Uhhhhhh... yeah,” was Sam’s too-delayed response. “Great. Fill it. Boil it, then put it on the stove and keep it boiling. Do that twice.” “Yes, Ma’am,” Sam answered, almost automatically, before he went to do the coyote’s bidding. So, for a minute, the hyena and the coyote had the room to themselves, and they both breathed a sigh of relief. Henrietta swiped a couple of chairs from a nearby dining room table, Elaine got out of her skirt and panties, and the two of them both sat down as Elaine began to crown. “You good?” asked the coyote. “[i]Pant,[/i] yeah, I think. Thanks.” “No problem. Honestly, it was mostly to get those two out of the way for a minute.” Henrietta smiled and looked fondly out the window beside her for a second. “You mind if I join you?” she then asked, over her shoulder. “...what?” “I’ve been in labor this whole photoshoot, just been holding off on it. That’s the nice thing about living in the future,” she continued with a chuckle. “It comes with practice.” Elaine’s one good eye blinked in surprise. “...Yeah, go ahead. Like I’m gonna stop you.” Henrietta took a second to get comfortable in her chair, then settled into the deep breaths that were now well-drilled routine for the both of them as they pushed. Elaine couldn’t help but notice, though, that Henrietta’s breaths sounded more like happy sighs. Honestly, it was reassuring, birthing pups with someone who did it so well. It helped Elaine relax. (As best as one can relax, of course, when giving birth. Perinatal treatments were impressive, but they weren’t magic quite yet.) At least, Elaine relaxed until Talmage returned with his arms full of a haphazard pile of towels, which he dropped onto the dining room table. “Alright, Elaine, I got the—” Talmage was very good at standing stock-still when something surprised him. If he figured out how to do it on purpose, he could probably get good money as a living statue. Henrietta broke the stillness. “I’m fine, honey,” she said, in a reassuring tone that contrasted with the fact her first pup was now crowning. “I’ve done this before. You mind bringing a couple of those over, though?” “Uh—of course.” Henrietta wiggled and positioned a few of the towels under her rump and another behind her back, just to be a little bit more comfortable. She also kept a spare on hand, to catch the pup, or readjust, or whatever ended up needing a spare towel. (Something would.) Elaine followed Henrietta’s example, and the two got comfortable on their dining room chairs. Then Elaine got an idea. “Hey,” she said, “we’re in front of a camera already...” Henrietta’s eyebrows were up, but her lids were narrowed. Why was Henrietta suspicious? ...and was there a smile on her lips? “...No, I was just thinking,” Elaine sighed, “it’s been a nice day, and I haven’t had any pictures taken of me yet, and... a memento would be nice.” A sheepish, pleading smile found its way onto Elaine’s lips. “Oh, yeah, sure, I thought you were implying we should [i]do[/i] something.” “I mean, that’d be nice too—” Elaine couldn’t believe that she had just said that. Judging from Henrietta’s amused smile, she couldn’t either. Henrietta looked to the two camera operators. “You mind?” Talmage’s small shake of his head was perhaps a little too hesitant. Sam’s “Not at all” was [i]much[/i] too fast. Talmage got behind the camera again, and Henrietta scooted her chair closer to Elaine to begin rubbing the hyena’s belly as well as her own. Elaine blushed for a moment, then returned the favor. The camera shutter clicked a few times, capturing the two next to one another, rubbing each other’s bellies, while they both crowned, Henrietta into her bikini, Elaine into open air. There were a couple of stills of Henrietta adjusting Elaine’s bow; otherwise, it was about the same picture maybe a half dozen times. To be honest, neither the hyena nor the coyote paid the camera any mind.