Act III

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Mandelborne mpreg, Part 1c

[anonymous]

George was about to snap off an exasperated ecstatic, thanks when he paused. “This is not what I had planned,” he said, slowly, after a moment. “But we’re in government. I have the job I always wanted - as long as you’re not going to kick me out. And - there’s Peter. And I’m going to have a baby, when I never - yes, I suppose I’m happy,” he finished, awkwardly. “Now for God’s sake can we finish with the sharing and caring and start working out how we can stop this from torpedoing my career?”

-

Nick had a habit of dropping by the Treasury with uncanny timing, always just when George was sat queasily gripping the edge of his desk and desperately trying to work out what had gone wrong in his life.

“How did you manage this?” he asked, through gritted teeth, while his stomach did acrobatics worthy of a London 2012 gymnast.

“It was easier for me,” said Nick. “I wasn’t the Chancellor. Here, drink your tea.”

“I’m not resigning,” said George, reaching for the ginger tea that Nick always brought. “It’s the twenty-first bloody century; I’m not taking to my bed like a Regency heroine.”

“I just meant I wasn’t in the public eye so much,” Nick said. “Nobody would dream of asking you to leave.”

“Good, because I’ll take you all to tribunal. I’ll team up with Harriet Harman and together we’ll muster the forces of equality to dismantle the workplace patriarchy.”

“I don’t think you stop being a member of the patriarchy just because you’re with child,” Nick teased. They had established a list of euphemisms that made George want to kill something. With child was high on the list, along with in the family way and the chart-topping in a delicate condition. Nick was dedicated to working them into every conversation they had.

“Fuck you,” said George, wearily, and without much heat. He wasn’t about to cut ties with his dealer in ginger tea, which seemed to be about the only thing that kept him from emptying his stomach into a wastepaper basket on far more regular basis. “I thought you said the morning sickness was supposed to ease off soon?”

“The miracle of giving life is different for everyone,” said Nick, mock-serious, with just the barest hint of a shit-eating grin lurking behind.

“Alright, get out,” said George. “Just leave the tea on the desk and go.”

-

“The bloody Mail - listen to this,” George said, as he and Peter read the papers together on a rare lazy Saturday morning. Indignant, he read, “’The Age of Austerity seems to have passed by Chancellor George Osborne, who has been appearing distinctly well-fed of late. If we’re all in this together, Mr Osborne might consider leaving some of the pies for the rest of us’. And they’re supposed to be on our side!”

“Well,” said Peter, who had the nerve to look amused. “To be fair, you are starting to appear rather - rounded.”

George laid a hand over the admittedly rising swell of his stomach, over which his shirt was stretched. It did closely resemble the makings of a sizeable gut. “You’re the one who did this to me,” he spat.

“Don’t worry, dear boy, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble regaining your girlish figure,” Peter teased, leaning over to brush his fingers against the curve of George’s belly. Peter always touched him lightly now, reverential, as if George might shatter under a careless touch. It would be sweet if it weren’t so irritating.

“The might at least have entertained the idea of my being pregnant,” George huffed, closing the paper and tossing it away. Later he would shred it, gleefully. “Alright, it’s rare, but it’s not as though it’s unheard of. Didn’t David Beckham carry their third? I thought that was supposed to ‘break down barriers’ or something.”

Peter passed over his untouched breakfast plate as a gesture of comfort; George was not so much eating for two these days as for three.

“Have you thought of bringing the announcement forwards?” Peter asked, while George moodily demolished his wheat toast. “There really is only so long you can keep this a secret,” he added, at George’s look.

“You should have seen the way David looked at me when I told him,” George said. “I imagine an entire country of people looking at me like that, and I can put it off for as long as possible.”