fanfic and original writing by ar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
witticaster) wrote2011-02-24 10:44 pm
witticaster) wrote2011-02-24 10:44 pm
0309
GDI HOW IS IT THIS LATE.
Julius nearly spilled scalding hot water all over his hand at the sound of Kay groaning awfully in the lounge; as it was, he did splash some onto the counter and hurriedly set down both teapot and cup before he managed to do himself any true mischief. Nothing could be so wrong, he told himself, but seeing his wife doubled over in pain threatened to try his conviction on that point. She was only six months along, the doctor had said--the baby could not possibly be planning to make its debut, and he refused to consider any other possibility.
"Are you all right?" he asked, glad to see her standing up straight again, with the same matchless poise she always had. Even now, looking as though she'd swallowed a football (though he had the good sense not to say as much), she had the same graceful bearing, her chin high and her eyes bright. It was rather easier to suppose that all was well now that she'd
With a nod, Kay walked over to the settee and sat down a bit more heavily than usual. "I guess the baby isn't interested in toast for breakfast," she told him, leaning against him when he took a seat next to her. "It got me right in the ribs--hurt a hell of a lot more than anyone told me it would."
"We'll have a sports star yet," Julius said, smiling down at Kay's middle--and more importantly, the child hiding within.
"And let it languish--what do either of us know about sports?" There was a hint of laughter in Kay's voice.
Julius kissed her temple. "I'll have you know that I'm a fair hand at polo and darts. Those're sports." He frowned then, his free hand fluttering uselessly a breath from the swell of Kay's belly. "Is the kicking a new development?"
"Hm?" Kay asked, glancing up at his face and apparently reading the question behind his question without any difficulty. She nodded, taking his hand and guiding it towards the baby's feet. "You haven't been missing out, don't worry. Let's see if it'll kick for its daddy."
"All right," he said, his voice more of a murmur than he'd intended. Kay slid his hand up beneath the loose blouse--one of the new ones she so detested, fine as he thought she looked in it--and pressed it flat against her stomach, the skin taut as a drum beneath his fingers. She was warm, her smile doting, and they sat there, patiently waiting for the baby to make itself known once more. He was about to give up when, for the span of a heartbeat, something tapped against his palm: their child's flesh, pressed against Kay's, pressed against his own, bringing them all, for the briefest of moments, indelibly connected.
He knew Kay was smiling, even without looking away from the being, now concrete in his mind in a way it had never been previously; he could hear the fondness in her voice. "It's showing off--it's never kicked like that before."
"What does it feel like?" Julius asked, reluctantly drawing his hand away when there seemed to be no more movement to wait for.
"Well," she said, capturing his hand in her own once more, her fingers stroking over his as she searched for an apt description. "It started...moving, I guess, a few weeks ago. I couldn't feel it with my hand, though, and I didn't want to get your hopes up about feeling it..." She shrugged. "At first, it was like--like butterflies in a net. It was so light that it was almost like I was imagining it. You know, Helen said she could feel both her children beginning to move at four months, but I don't know how she could've."
The only comparison Julius could think of was indigestion, and it seemed somehow blasphemous to compare their son or daughter to disagreeable food. Kay made the sensation sound so curious, though. Imagine feeling it throughout your body, he thought, some kind of side effect to--but now he was getting distracted.
"Getting kicked by the baby, though," she said, and gave him a grin. "That's more like getting kicked by anyone, except smaller. It doesn't hurt if it just hits--you know, where your hand was, where there's only skin. Getting one of my ribs is a different story."
"We'll just have to give the baby a good lecture on the subject," Julius said, squeezing her hand. "No kicking Mummy unless it's somewhere Daddy can feel, too."
Julius nearly spilled scalding hot water all over his hand at the sound of Kay groaning awfully in the lounge; as it was, he did splash some onto the counter and hurriedly set down both teapot and cup before he managed to do himself any true mischief. Nothing could be so wrong, he told himself, but seeing his wife doubled over in pain threatened to try his conviction on that point. She was only six months along, the doctor had said--the baby could not possibly be planning to make its debut, and he refused to consider any other possibility.
"Are you all right?" he asked, glad to see her standing up straight again, with the same matchless poise she always had. Even now, looking as though she'd swallowed a football (though he had the good sense not to say as much), she had the same graceful bearing, her chin high and her eyes bright. It was rather easier to suppose that all was well now that she'd
With a nod, Kay walked over to the settee and sat down a bit more heavily than usual. "I guess the baby isn't interested in toast for breakfast," she told him, leaning against him when he took a seat next to her. "It got me right in the ribs--hurt a hell of a lot more than anyone told me it would."
"We'll have a sports star yet," Julius said, smiling down at Kay's middle--and more importantly, the child hiding within.
"And let it languish--what do either of us know about sports?" There was a hint of laughter in Kay's voice.
Julius kissed her temple. "I'll have you know that I'm a fair hand at polo and darts. Those're sports." He frowned then, his free hand fluttering uselessly a breath from the swell of Kay's belly. "Is the kicking a new development?"
"Hm?" Kay asked, glancing up at his face and apparently reading the question behind his question without any difficulty. She nodded, taking his hand and guiding it towards the baby's feet. "You haven't been missing out, don't worry. Let's see if it'll kick for its daddy."
"All right," he said, his voice more of a murmur than he'd intended. Kay slid his hand up beneath the loose blouse--one of the new ones she so detested, fine as he thought she looked in it--and pressed it flat against her stomach, the skin taut as a drum beneath his fingers. She was warm, her smile doting, and they sat there, patiently waiting for the baby to make itself known once more. He was about to give up when, for the span of a heartbeat, something tapped against his palm: their child's flesh, pressed against Kay's, pressed against his own, bringing them all, for the briefest of moments, indelibly connected.
He knew Kay was smiling, even without looking away from the being, now concrete in his mind in a way it had never been previously; he could hear the fondness in her voice. "It's showing off--it's never kicked like that before."
"What does it feel like?" Julius asked, reluctantly drawing his hand away when there seemed to be no more movement to wait for.
"Well," she said, capturing his hand in her own once more, her fingers stroking over his as she searched for an apt description. "It started...moving, I guess, a few weeks ago. I couldn't feel it with my hand, though, and I didn't want to get your hopes up about feeling it..." She shrugged. "At first, it was like--like butterflies in a net. It was so light that it was almost like I was imagining it. You know, Helen said she could feel both her children beginning to move at four months, but I don't know how she could've."
The only comparison Julius could think of was indigestion, and it seemed somehow blasphemous to compare their son or daughter to disagreeable food. Kay made the sensation sound so curious, though. Imagine feeling it throughout your body, he thought, some kind of side effect to--but now he was getting distracted.
"Getting kicked by the baby, though," she said, and gave him a grin. "That's more like getting kicked by anyone, except smaller. It doesn't hurt if it just hits--you know, where your hand was, where there's only skin. Getting one of my ribs is a different story."
"We'll just have to give the baby a good lecture on the subject," Julius said, squeezing her hand. "No kicking Mummy unless it's somewhere Daddy can feel, too."