Fishing!
I came second at iyfic_contest for their prompt Fishing, thanks go to forthrightly for the banner.
Title: Bad Day
Author: aimee_blue
Genre: General AU
Rating: T
Words: 250
Summary: Sango is having a bad day.
Storming through the apartment, Sango kicked off the stupid shoes she’d known would kill her feet and antagonise her ankles but had worn anyway.
Miroku’s head poked around the doorway to his office and he ventured a tentative, “Bad day?”
“Bad day!” she cried, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation, “I’m sick and tired of people treating my stomach like it’s public property! Next time I’ll break an arm.”
This threat was hardly idle coming from the lips of his beautiful karate-black-belt-wielding wife and Miroku decided to interfere before she caused herself a mischief.
Sango allowed Miroku to steer her to the cushy armchair and succumbed to the footstool and the mug of camomile tea that was offered. When he returned with the steaming brew in hand, he was amused to find her prodding her distended belly like it was a particularly unappealing pile of vegetables she had to eat.
“I look like Buddha,” she moaned reproachfully, blowing at her tea.
“You are pregnant,” he pointed out tentatively. The last time he’d indicated such, she’d screamed, asking how she could possibly forget she was pregnant when she carried the baby around all day.
“Still, I look like Buddha,” she grumbled, “my bottom is spreading and my boobs hurt and I can’t stop peeing.”
“Now you’re just fishing for compliments,” he cajoled her, stroking her hair back from her face softly, “but I will volunteer my services in inspecting your bottom.”
“Pervert,” she chuckled, “even now.”
“Always,” he promised.
Title: Bad Day
Author: aimee_blue
Genre: General AU
Rating: T
Words: 250
Summary: Sango is having a bad day.
Storming through the apartment, Sango kicked off the stupid shoes she’d known would kill her feet and antagonise her ankles but had worn anyway.
Miroku’s head poked around the doorway to his office and he ventured a tentative, “Bad day?”
“Bad day!” she cried, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation, “I’m sick and tired of people treating my stomach like it’s public property! Next time I’ll break an arm.”
This threat was hardly idle coming from the lips of his beautiful karate-black-belt-wielding wife and Miroku decided to interfere before she caused herself a mischief.
Sango allowed Miroku to steer her to the cushy armchair and succumbed to the footstool and the mug of camomile tea that was offered. When he returned with the steaming brew in hand, he was amused to find her prodding her distended belly like it was a particularly unappealing pile of vegetables she had to eat.
“I look like Buddha,” she moaned reproachfully, blowing at her tea.
“You are pregnant,” he pointed out tentatively. The last time he’d indicated such, she’d screamed, asking how she could possibly forget she was pregnant when she carried the baby around all day.
“Still, I look like Buddha,” she grumbled, “my bottom is spreading and my boobs hurt and I can’t stop peeing.”
“Now you’re just fishing for compliments,” he cajoled her, stroking her hair back from her face softly, “but I will volunteer my services in inspecting your bottom.”
“Pervert,” she chuckled, “even now.”
“Always,” he promised.