Faking, Part 1

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Summary: Olivia is faking a pregnancy, and it has to be convincing. She  proceeds to  continuously stuff herself with food to keep up the  appearance. Contains: Female: weight gain, belly expansion, breast expansion, lactation, possibly pregnancy.

-

Olivia peeked over her cubicle, but not enough that anyone could see the sneer glued to her face, really glued there, because she couldn't seem to lift it, hard as she tried.

She was rewarded with the increasingly common sight of several women in the office fretting over pregnant-Peggy. Olivia could swear that Peggy was permanently pregnant. It seemed to have been going on for ages.

Olivia popped a kale chip into her mouth as she continued to spy. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as Peggy lifted her maternity blouse, showing off movement on her bare skin in clear violation of the company's dress code. Worse yet, one of the fretting women actually laid her hand across Peggy's huge fat belly. She released a giggle that rang through the office and was objectively distracting. But none of these offenses seemed to matter these days. All anyone cared about was coddling the fatso.

Olivia wondered if the prattling clutter of women was on an authorized break. Doubtful. More likely they were just babbling away on company time. Olivia rolled her eyes when someone showed up with a huge stuffed bear, which all the women squealed over. More gifts? Peggy had been thrown a gratuitous baby shower just a week earlier. There had been an over-abundance of food, presents, and baby-themed games. Olivia had hardly kept from retching at the sight of her pregnant-highness stuffing her face full of pastries up close and personal. At least at Olivia's workstation she could tuck her head down and put on her headphones to avoid the sounds of Preggy smacking her lips as she chomped on enough food to eradicate famine worldwide.

When Peggy wasn't gorging, she was whining or rubbing her monstrously fat belly. People practically flung themselves at Peggy's cubicle at the sound of a sniffle. Everyone was desperate to placate and pamper her.

Throwing one more glare towards the gaggle of women, Olivia sunk down and tried to focus on the report she was working on. It should have been submitted two days ago, but the environment was decidedly distracting. Olivia grabbed a pencil to scribble down some notes.

"Peggy, I know you'll be leaving us any day now..."

Olivia perked at the sound of her boss, John Turner's, voice.

"But I want you to know that you’ll have a job when you get back. In fact, we're eyeing you to take Jamison's old office. And a little more responsibility if you're up to it."

Olivia reddened in indignation. They were offering the pregster a promotion!? For what? Getting knocked up! Olivia was so irritated, she didn't hear the rest of the conversation. A snapping noise pulled her out of her reverie, and she looked down to notice she had broken her pencil in half.

"Uh, Olivia?"

Olivia blinked and swiveled her chair around to meet eyes with one of her colleagues: A mousy girl named Fran.

"Mr. Turner wants to see you in his office," Fran mumbled, before shuffling of.

"Oh god!" came Peggy's voice a few paces away. "Guys I—I think the baby’s coming!"

"Perfect timing," Olivia muttered bitterly as she got up and walked towards John's office. If Peggy was starting maternity leave, Olivia had three months of bliss to look forward to.

She knocked on John's door.

"Come in," he called.

When Olivia entered the cluttered office, John was seated behind his desk shuffling some papers around.

"Sit down, sit down," he urged, motioning to the seat opposite him.

Olivia did as instructed. She threw a glance at a chipped nail, the bright red polish marred probably during the pencil incident. She looked back at John, who was frowning at her. These meetings weren't unusual. He was always urging her to, "be more productive," get her numbers up. She usually just nodded and smiled to placate. She had no intention of bending over backwards for her modest salary.

"I'm sorry, Olivia," said John with a mournful expression that caught her off guard. "But we've done all we can to get you motivated. There have been too many latenesses, missed deadlines, lost clients, general complaints, botched reports..."

Was she being fired? Oh shit! She was about to be fired! How could they? How dare they! This job was below her, but she needed it, at least for the time being. She'd had few other options in the competitive corporate environment of her city.

“...I'm sorry, Olivia," John repeated. "But we're going to have to let you—"

"I'm pregnant!" Olivia blurted out.

John paused. "What?"

"I, um, I'm pregnant." Olivia didn't really know what she was saying, she just knew that she couldn't lose this job.

"You're—oh—well…congratulations?" John appeared puzzled but made no effort to resume the previous track of conversation. Olivia was sure that firing a pregnant person posed all sorts of potential legal issues.

"I'm sorry," she rambled. "For, uh, everything. It was...morning sickness?"

"Right, of course," said John, his confusion lifting somewhat. "I'm sure it must be hard. Especially at this early stage." He threw her a once-over.

Olivia was skinny. There was no other way to put it. She ate like a squirrel. Nuts, berries, and leafy greens.

"Well I, uh, hope you'll be feeling better soon," said John.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner." The two panned into an awkward silence. "Is that...all?"

"Well—yes. Yes it is." John stood and Olivia followed as he walked over to the door and held it open for her. "And please don't call me Mr. Turner. You know that makes me feel old."

"Sure, John," said Olivia in relief as she walked out of the office, her job intact. She was so absorbed in her own giddiness that she nearly bumped into Mike. He worked on the floor above hers and was also an on-again, off-again boyfriend who she'd been trying to properly cut loose for a while.

"Mike."

Olivia tensed as she heard John speak behind her.

"Just wanted to properly congratulate you two on the baby."

"Baby?" said Mike in clear bafflement. He looked at Olivia in a mixture of panic and terror.

"Thank you Mr. Turner. We really should be getting back to work." Olivia grabbed Mike's sleeve and dragged him off before anything more could be exchanged between the two men. She found a quiet corner of the office between a ficus and a water cooler. Peggy's low moans could be heard somewhere in the distance.

"Olivia," said Mike, his eyes bulging. "What's this about a baby!?"

Olivia's first instinct was to disclose how she had made up the pregnancy to save her job, but Mike was an overgrown boy scout. He couldn't tell a lie to save his life. He would rat her out to John. She would be fired as well as blacklisted in the industry.

God, she couldn't stand Mike. But now probably wasn't the best time to dump him... It would draw too much attention to the whole “situation.”

"It's...true," she said, straining to smile. "We're having a baby."

Mike looked dizzy. "But we're always so careful."

"Mistakes do happen."

"That's the thing, Liv. I don't make mistakes."

"Deal with it!" she snarled, before sauntering over to her cubicle in irritation. What a mess this was becoming. She sunk into her chair and rubbed at a developing headache beneath her temple.

-

The ride home after work was awkward. Mike, at least, seemed to have calmed down a bit.

"Sorry I freaked out," he said, eyes on the road as he pulled off the freeway. "This news is actually a...pleasant surprise. We're going to be parents, Liv. How terrifying and—exciting."

"Yeah," said Olivia uneasily as she gazed out her window at the store fronts and vehicles racing away.

They pulled into a residential neighborhood. Soon enough, they had parked in front of her house.

Mike unbuckled his seatbelt so he could turn to face her. "Can't wait to see you grow." He reached down and laid his hand against her stomach. He allowed his fingers to slide beneath the hem of her blouse so it could lay against her bare skin. "You're so thin. We're going to have to fatten you up."

"Right..." Olivia struggled not to grimace. She unbuckled her seatbelt. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow."

"You don't want me to come in?"

"I still have a lot to process, Mike. Alone. But we'll talk tomorrow." She gave him a peck on the cheek and got out of the car. When she went into her house, she immediately dropped herself across the living room couch, muttering obscenities under her breath.

She had gotten herself into such a mess and she feared there was no way out of it. There were few ways this could play out that didn't end with her being fired. Once John realized she wasn't really pregnant, she would be put out on her ass.

Olivia's only options at the point were to actually get pregnant (just the thought was nauseating), or to just fake being pregnant until she could find a new job. This option seemed more doable. It wasn't perfect but it was her best shot at a solution.

Fake a pregnancy, she thought with a sigh. Right. How hard could it be?

-

A few weeks passed.

Things were actually going really well at work. Everyone was being nicer to her, and Olivia was getting away with longer breaks, excused latenesses, and generally just bullshitting things as usual. Her work quality was at an all-time low and no one said a thing.

Her job had gotten really quite pleasant. Moreso than ever before, and she actually enjoyed going to work now. People checked in on her. Asked her how she was. If she wanted a snack or a drink. Was the office too warm? Too cold? Olivia felt truly valued and appreciated for once. She wondered why she hadn't adopted this charade sooner.

And then one day, Tom Rodes threw her a glance at the water cooler and said, "So how far along are you anyway? I'd never be able to tell."

Olivia blinked up at him.

"Sorry, I heard Jim in finance congratulating Mike on the baby. It wasn't a secret, was it?"

"No, not really," said Olivia.

And then Tom just waited, and Olivia realized that she had not answered his original question.

"Um, three months," she said, coming up with it at random.

"Three months?" Tom echoed in surprise. "Wow, you're so—trim. When my wife was three months along, she already looked like an elephant. Er, a gorgeous elephant, of course."

Olivia reddened. "Yeah...I should be getting back to work."

"Sure. Let me know if you need anything."

Olivia was already heading back to her cubicle.

-

"I'm concerned," Mike admitted that evening over dinner as Olivia munched on her caesar salad and tried not to think about the growing issue of her imploding lie. "You're not showing at all yet. When is your next doctor's appointment? I want to be there."

"Mike, everything's fine," Olivia insisted.

"It's one thing to say so, but Liv, you're underweight. Even for someone who isn't pregnant. There’s no way this could be healthy. I just want the baby to be safe."

She needed to have the appearance of someone who was putting on weight. She thought of those prosthetic pregnancy bumps that were used in film and TV. It would surely work at the office, but a fake belly would be hard to conceal from Mike, who had full access to her, and would start asking a lot of questions if she arbitrarily stopped allowing him to touch her for six months.

She really needed out of this whole mess, but the job hunt had not been going well. Twelve applications and not one interview, email, or phone call.

"Please, just eat something that wasn't plucked off a tree." Mike pushed his plate of pasta with meat sauce towards her.

"Fine," said Olivia, lifting the fork, frowning as she sucked some noodles into her mouth. It was oily, but she forced herself to eat it. It wasn't as though she was a health nut. She just didn't care much for food in general.

"Promise me you'll get your weight up," said Mike.

"Of course," said Olivia. "Trust me, it's just been the nausea. But it's going way, and I'm honestly ravenous most of the time."

Mike gave a relieved smile.

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