24 Fic: Tales of a Dead Man - Hugs and Cuddles Challenge 4/20 (Tony/Michelle)
Title: Tales of a Dead Man
Fandom: 24
Characters: Michelle Dessler/Tony Almeida
Prompt: Hugs and Cuddles Challenge - #04. Sick!Fic
Word Count: 750
Rating: PG-13 for some launguage
Summary: Tony Almeida is sure he's a dead man.
Author's Notes: Here we are with number 4 in the Never Let Me Go - Hugs and Cuddles Challenge. Thank you so much to everyone for reading. Enjoy!
She was doing a good job of hiding it in front of everyone else, but he could tell something was up. Call it his Michelle!Sense, but he knew something was going on with her. For one, while she wasn't what anyone would call a morning person, she was still an earlier riser than him. Lately, though, she was the one grumbling for extra time under the covers in the morning. She was also the first one to hit the sack at night, burrowing under her side of their heavy down comforter like they were living somewhere subarctic instead of southern California.
Something was definitely up.
Then there were her extra long bathroom breaks. He wasn't one to be a stickler for the rules, but it wasn't like her to disappear five times a day. It really wasn't. Especially when each time she came back looking worse than the time before. But since he valued his life, he wouldn't say that. He did want to have his limbs intact when they got married in a few months.
And it wasn't her period, he knew that. Yeah, he knew these things about his fiancé. He was a man with self-preservation skills. He knew when to bring her a candy bar and let her pick a sappy movie to watch after their shift was done. He knew when to supply a heating pad and nimble fingers (for decidedly chaste purposes, of course). This wasn't that time.
Come to think of it, it hadn't been that time in a while.
His gaze strayed to the floor, where she was coming back from the bathroom - yet again - looking even greener than before.
Green.
Sick.
Sickness.
Morning sickness.
Shit.
He tried to make his jog downstairs seem natural, even as he was mentally calculating the number of people who would gladly kill him for this offense. His bride to be was somewhere near the top, but definitely beneath his old fashioned, outspoken mother, who had gotten off to a pretty rocky start with Michelle in the first place. He wasn't even going to talk about the wedding planning meltdowns. At least this time they'd join forces? Bonding. That was perfect; killing him for this would help them bond.
He came skidding to a stop in front of Michelle's desk, earning a tiny lift of the eyebrow from his future wife. Even worn out, she still looked beautiful.
"Hey." He tried for nonchalant instead of some variation of absolutely scared shitless because he'd just realized he might've knocked her up three months before their wedding. "How uh, you feeling okay?"
To her credit, Michelle tried to put on a brave face, going as far as to sit up and smooth her hands over her blotter. "Yeah, oh yeah I'm fine. Just tired."
The smile she offered him was nothing convincing, but he still smiled back.
"Well if you wanted to knock off early, that'd be okay." His hand brushed her cheek. "To rest, I mean. Nap." His eyes must've been broadcasting how thoroughly he was not buying her fine-ness, because he felt her swallow. She knew. Or at the very least she was considering it, too.
"Yeah, actually, that sounds pretty good. Thanks, Tony." She was already standing, and from the look of it, trying desperately not to sway. "I'll get a ride from transport, leave you the car?"
"Sure. I'll stop by the store on the way home. Pick up some things."
Like crackers. Gatorade. A home pregnancy test or ten. The usual.
That earned him a distracted nod. "Sounds great. We need more bread."
"Kay." He walked her to the door like the caring, gentle fiancée-possible-baby-daddy he was. It gave him the chance to wrap her up and bring her into his chest while she waited. At least he could give her this comfort, even if he was going to have to break the news to her later.
His hand slid in warm circles over her back. No matter the reason, he hated that she was sick.
"I'll see you at home?" he murmured finally, touching his lips to her temple.
She nodded sleepily. "You'll see me at home. Thanks for springing me early."
He almost screwed up then. Almost blurted out something stupid like, "Thanks for having my baby."
Lucky for him, he'd developed slightly more restraint than that. No use freaking her out before he had to. Instead he managed a pretty respectable, "See you soon, sweetheart."
Still, he was a dead man.
Fandom: 24
Characters: Michelle Dessler/Tony Almeida
Prompt: Hugs and Cuddles Challenge - #04. Sick!Fic
Word Count: 750
Rating: PG-13 for some launguage
Summary: Tony Almeida is sure he's a dead man.
Author's Notes: Here we are with number 4 in the Never Let Me Go - Hugs and Cuddles Challenge. Thank you so much to everyone for reading. Enjoy!
She was doing a good job of hiding it in front of everyone else, but he could tell something was up. Call it his Michelle!Sense, but he knew something was going on with her. For one, while she wasn't what anyone would call a morning person, she was still an earlier riser than him. Lately, though, she was the one grumbling for extra time under the covers in the morning. She was also the first one to hit the sack at night, burrowing under her side of their heavy down comforter like they were living somewhere subarctic instead of southern California.
Something was definitely up.
Then there were her extra long bathroom breaks. He wasn't one to be a stickler for the rules, but it wasn't like her to disappear five times a day. It really wasn't. Especially when each time she came back looking worse than the time before. But since he valued his life, he wouldn't say that. He did want to have his limbs intact when they got married in a few months.
And it wasn't her period, he knew that. Yeah, he knew these things about his fiancé. He was a man with self-preservation skills. He knew when to bring her a candy bar and let her pick a sappy movie to watch after their shift was done. He knew when to supply a heating pad and nimble fingers (for decidedly chaste purposes, of course). This wasn't that time.
Come to think of it, it hadn't been that time in a while.
His gaze strayed to the floor, where she was coming back from the bathroom - yet again - looking even greener than before.
Green.
Sick.
Sickness.
Morning sickness.
Shit.
He tried to make his jog downstairs seem natural, even as he was mentally calculating the number of people who would gladly kill him for this offense. His bride to be was somewhere near the top, but definitely beneath his old fashioned, outspoken mother, who had gotten off to a pretty rocky start with Michelle in the first place. He wasn't even going to talk about the wedding planning meltdowns. At least this time they'd join forces? Bonding. That was perfect; killing him for this would help them bond.
He came skidding to a stop in front of Michelle's desk, earning a tiny lift of the eyebrow from his future wife. Even worn out, she still looked beautiful.
"Hey." He tried for nonchalant instead of some variation of absolutely scared shitless because he'd just realized he might've knocked her up three months before their wedding. "How uh, you feeling okay?"
To her credit, Michelle tried to put on a brave face, going as far as to sit up and smooth her hands over her blotter. "Yeah, oh yeah I'm fine. Just tired."
The smile she offered him was nothing convincing, but he still smiled back.
"Well if you wanted to knock off early, that'd be okay." His hand brushed her cheek. "To rest, I mean. Nap." His eyes must've been broadcasting how thoroughly he was not buying her fine-ness, because he felt her swallow. She knew. Or at the very least she was considering it, too.
"Yeah, actually, that sounds pretty good. Thanks, Tony." She was already standing, and from the look of it, trying desperately not to sway. "I'll get a ride from transport, leave you the car?"
"Sure. I'll stop by the store on the way home. Pick up some things."
Like crackers. Gatorade. A home pregnancy test or ten. The usual.
That earned him a distracted nod. "Sounds great. We need more bread."
"Kay." He walked her to the door like the caring, gentle fiancée-possible-baby-daddy he was. It gave him the chance to wrap her up and bring her into his chest while she waited. At least he could give her this comfort, even if he was going to have to break the news to her later.
His hand slid in warm circles over her back. No matter the reason, he hated that she was sick.
"I'll see you at home?" he murmured finally, touching his lips to her temple.
She nodded sleepily. "You'll see me at home. Thanks for springing me early."
He almost screwed up then. Almost blurted out something stupid like, "Thanks for having my baby."
Lucky for him, he'd developed slightly more restraint than that. No use freaking her out before he had to. Instead he managed a pretty respectable, "See you soon, sweetheart."
Still, he was a dead man.