That Rabbit Done Died
[I so blame this. My main muse for the last, oh, forever and a half has been male. So I never get to do this ;) But seriously? This is the first fic-drabble-thing for this journal?!]
Jen never fully appreciated how long nine months is until she got pregnant. Here she is at eight and time seems to have just. Stopped. The closer the end nears, the more silently terrified she gets. She's too damn old for this--what if something went wrong? And she's sick--who's to say she even has any business getting pregnant? But apparently her body had other plans. Even if it is his fault. Yes, entirely. She smiles at him across the desk, rubbing her side. "I think he'll be kicking down doors like his father, Ducky." She doesn't just think, she knows.
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