It is really getting more then a little annoying that I cannot just seem to move the way I *want* to. Which was about any which way I bloody well pleased before. Now though I can't seem to bend, grouch, sit, hell I can't even *walk* normally or without problems. A problem I realise will only get worse and worse as time moves on and I get even bigger. Before I know it I'll actually be the size of a balloon and Angel will have to bloody well roll me everywhere.
Just as I'm about to let loose a serious rant about my inability to move whichever way I want, Angel helps me on the bed as though it's nothing to him. Which it probably is with his vampire strength. Still, I end up blinking stupidly at finding myself suddenly on the bed and not standing beside it while trying to-- well, get on it. Like a feather, which trust me, I am quite assuredly not.
Once again I can't help but think - and the very thought is ridiculous alone and another thing I never thought to be thinking at all - that next time Angel can be the one to carry the damn child.
"Thank you," I sigh belatedly, feeling like that bloody parrot I keep comparing myself too. Alright, Pryce, take it easy. No use getting upset or angry over... nothing at all really. Especially not when there's such a sweet little boy smiling at you as though he'd trust you with anything. Which, right now, is tea, so that really should take no effort for anyone.
Accept, possibly, if you're called Angel. Who sounds highly suspicious and even looks it as he eyes the bottle. It makes me narrow my eyes and a scowl form on my face. "Tea," I tell him primly as though this should bloody well be obvious to anyone. With a small huff and an exasperated look I hand the bottle to Connor.
"I'm not trying to poison your son, Angel," I mutter, watching as the boy takes hold of the bottle with both hands and happily starts to drink the tea. At least someone around here knows how it's done, I think as I look at Connor proudly.
"Our son," I say in stride, raising an eyebrow at Connor who drinks away at the tea - well, of course he does, he's a baby and he'd drink whatever you give him! "Are babies supposed to drink tea?" I ask, looking over at Wes even though I know this will likely result in more scowling and an even more prim tone. But seriously, logic during pregnancy doesn't seem to be one of Wes' strong suits.
I'm scooting over closer anyway, in spite of the possible maelstrom to follow. It's just a natural thing to want to be closer to Wes and Connor. And our new baby. I wonder if it's going to be a boy or a girl. And Jesus, I don't know how we're going to figure out a name for him or her. Plus, are they going to sleep in the nursery with Connor? So many questions... Not to mention the obvious, like, how is Wes going to have this kid. I mean, I know there'll be surgery and stuff, but how are we going to know when the baby's ready to come out? They usually do that signaling on their own, don't they?
Not like I can mention any of that stuff to Wes though. He gets kind of a deer-in-headlights look at any sort of uncertainty about the pregnancy from me. And I'm not even going to think about Wes not being able to handle the delivery and maybe not...making it through all this. Yeah, not thinking about that.
So I just sidle up to Wes and put my arm around his shoulders while we watch our son...hold that damn bottle all by himself. I'm still not sure about this tea-drinking, but I guess as long as it's not alcohol or coffee... Or some magic concoction, I guess Connor's safe.
The scowl only deepens when he so pointedly says it's 'our son'. Because the way he's looking at me when I hand Connor some simple tea, it's bloody well not *our* son, it's *his* son. As if I really would do anything, and I do mean *anything* that would hurt Connor. Or this child I seem to be carrying inside of me.
Bloody idiot.
"Why shouldn't they drink milked down tea, Angel," I ask, the tone of my voice highly insulted. "It's a perfectly fine beverage for *anyone* to drink, not to mention civilized." Just because in his day and age they gave their children ale before they could walk! Well, the is *Irish* after all, they always were a strange sort of people. Now the English...
I give him another scowl and a mild glare not just or doubting me but for thinking I would actually harm Connor. "As if I'd do something harmful to your son," I mutter under my breath, reaching out to gently brush my hand over the boy's head.
Connor looks up, pausing his happy tea drinking to grin at me. It would have been one of those toothy happy grins if he actually had any teeth. instead it's just a happy grin and that's more then enough. It makes me smile softly at him and-- nearly get teary eyed just form looking at this simple happiness. So young, so simple the things are, I hope it stays that way for him for a long, long time.
With a vampire father and-- well, me, I have my doubts about that though.
"Can you hand me my cup of tea?" I ask, automatically leaning into his... embrace, if you wanted to call it that. Hug, but Angel isn't the hugging type really. Unless, of course, it's Connor. But who wouldn't want to hug that little adorable boy?
"It's got *caffeine* in it," I say pointedly, but not harshly. Mostly I'm just goading Wes now even if I probably wouldn't have given Conner tea myself. He's not choking on it or anything. And I guess it's not going to harm him in that small a dose. Though... Maybe no more bottle prepping for Wes. Until we're done with the pregnancy thing, that is.
"Our son," I correct again, which I will likely be doing for the rest of our lives. "Didn't say you would," I reply to his muttering under his breath. That's what happens when you mutter around a vampire. Heh.
I pass his tea over automatically, not saying a word about his congealing food. Much rather be kissing his temple - which I do - than chiding him about not eating anything that he asked for. Except his tea that he had to make himself. But whatever. Like I said, logic + Wes + pregnancy...not a lot happening there.
"Should we be picking out baby names?" I murmur, hand idly rubbing over Wes' shoulder. My other hand itching to tickle Connor's tiny foot and make him laugh, but I don't want him to choke since he's drinking so I hold back, placing my hand safely in my lap.
I know Connor's name came to me right away, but I don't have any ideas for new baby names at the moment. I guess I only had one name in me. Hmm. Maybe Wes has some ideas. Or will be freaking out at the mere thought.
"It does *not* have caffeine in it," I protest perhaps a little to vehement. The glare hardens and I'm wondering if he's doing this just to annoy me. He should know by now that it takes *very* little to accomplish that. "If it had caffeine in it, I wouldn't have had to switch to Cordelia's bloody coffee to stay awake during those long night research sessions. I cannot *believe* you, Angel!" Thinking I would give his son something harmful.
Not that there will be any late night research sessions for me in he near future. Or coffee. Sitting in the chair for longer then half an hour makes my back hurt like hell. My eyes can't seem to focus for too long with or without glasses. And even if they could, or if my back wasn't giving me problems? Gunn and Cordelia make certain I get enough sleep which means no staying up to late. At all.
"Obviously you think you do, since you've just implied that tea is bloody harmful for your son, then why are you letting me drink it? Wouldn't it be oh so harmful for you other child as well? Are you saying I'm unfit to be a parent for your children? Hmmm?" Blasted Irish oaf, attacking tea as if he were nothing but an American. They tossed the tea in the ocean even! I'm surrounded by barbarians.
Almost angrily I take the tea he's handing me. The only thing keeping me from actually doing it full force angrily is because my dignity wont allow me to treat tea this way. Instead I sip it carefully, feeling the familiar liquid go down, soothingly and calming. Just like Connor is content to sip his. Good boy, at least he knows not to mock the tea.
I just about finish my tea when Angel asks his question. Tea cup in one hand, my free hand automatically moves to my stomach to rub over the bulge there. Angel got to name Connor, of course, he's his son. I feel utterly childish for wanting to say that *I* want to name this child then. After all, I had to carry it... him... her inside me for nine bloody month's and that wasn't a picnic.
"I think we should as that blasted doctor of yours if he can figure out the baby's gender next time," I tell him. "Or at least I wish to find out and if you don't he can tell only me." And then I can pick out names. No... yes, still sounds too childish to say out loud.
Okay, that just makes me snort. Him switching to coffee. Which he does do, but he makes it sound like such a crime. And if tea doesn't have caffeine in it then I'm not a blood-sucking monster. But I won't push him. He's already pissed off enough.
I roll my eyes at the rant that follows and thankfully he's not looking at me for that, he's too busy looking angrily at the tea. "As if I could make you stop drinking tea. You'd be even more cranky then," I mutter, smiling to myself. He can be as cranky and grumpy and bitchy as he wants. There's a baby in him! That's so cool!
"Nope, you're a great dad. For our kids," I say fondly, feathers unruffled at all his accusations while I give him another squeeze around the shoulders.
"Or you could just pick out a boy's and a girl's name and we can both be surprised," I say, turning my head to kiss his temple. And move my hand to his stomach as well. Huh, didn't even notice I did that. Kinda protective of the little guy already, I guess. Well, and Wes' hand is already there so I get to brush my fingers against his, conveniently. "I don't really have any ideas for a good name so if you wanna name the baby... that's fine with me," I add, giving his temple another kiss. Still smells good even with all the changes. All that marking stuff made him smell a little different and the baby of course makes him smell a little different, still like Wes, just different than he used to. I wonder if he tastes different too. I mean...his blood. I haven't drank from him in quite a while. Too worried about hurting the baby, really. Can't have Wes losing tons of blood when the baby is depending on him...
Hmmm. Well. *This* is bloody annoying. Of course it doesn't take a whole lot to annoy me lately I fear. But this? Oh this is bloody annoying. *Angel* is bloody annoying and irritating when he does this sort of thing. He really, really is.
I glare at him while he smiles at me as though he's happy as a clam. You'd almost think he was on some sort of drugs. I would believe that if he weren't a vampire. But since there's no Slayer around who's blood he can drink to get-- well to get high, that's probably not it.
Ergo, he's just bloody annoying. With his stupid smile and that serene look while I sit here seething about his insults and accusations. Makes me just glare at him even more. Which in turn seems to make him smile even more. It's-- as Cordelia would say, it's creepy. That's what it is. Maybe I should just ignore it. Well, some of it.
"Oh really?" I snip sarcastically, "Such a great dad that you feel the need to accuse me of harming them. By drinking bloody tea or giving them bloody tea. Hmpft." As if I would harm his children! I can't believe he'd even consider that!
I pull away from him grumpily when he kisses my temple, still feeling more then a little cranky about the whole tea issue. "No," I mutter stubbornly, "I wish to know it's gender." Besides, its not as though we're floating in money. Knowing the child's gender will make it easier to buy things for it... him ...her.
Pulling my hand away from my stomach and Angel's - with somewhat a feeling of regret - I wobble around a bit to try and get of the bed. I really do feel like the tire-man I've seen on the telly. Or marshmallow man, whatever it was. "I'm hungry," I grumble, "I want to eat something..." and I want to bloody well be able to *move*! Good god! "Urgh!"
"Well, here's hoping that you don't make them drink anything bloody, that's my job," I say, trading barbs back with Wes, because if he were damn well in his right mind, he'd know I would never say anything like that about him or about his child rearing skills.
"I don't know anything about what babies are supposed to drink, Wes. You know I was just curious," I say, sighing a little bit though still trying not to let him get my goat. I know it's just the pregnancy making him so moody, I really do know it. But it is pretty hard to ignore when he gets so...ruthless. Well, ruthless in a cute way mostly.
Oh, we're not doing any kissing then? That gets him a raised eyebrow of my own. We're going to be 15 now, I see. "Alright, we'll find out its gender next time we go back to the doctor." Spoilsport. I lean over once Connor's thrown the bottle away again and tickle Connor's foot. Hee. He's so adorable when he gurgles and smiles. He is certainly learning how to be happy early on. Probably a good thing to learn with the serious stuff going on in this household.
"Well, I did make you that whole huge breakfast like you ask me to," I say smoothly, trying not to chuckle at the way Wes is lolling about on the bed. "Here," I give him a little nudge with my arm to see if that'll help him up--or possibly make him fall off the bed. Heh, oh that would be good with how cranky he's been. He needs a little kick in the pants. Not that I would do anything of the sort.
"Aren't you a funny vampire," I mutter under my breath, knowing full well the vampire in question can hear me. Were it anyone else-- well, anyone else who doesn't have supernatural hearing, they wouldn't have understood that. Blasted vampire with his supernatural senses anyhow!
His excuse that he was just curious earns him another glare while I roll around on the bed. And not rolling around in a fun way either. "No you weren't, you were accusing me of harming your son," I keep grumbling under my breath. Well, he was! He was questioning my ability to feed his son! As if I would... I already went over that several times.
I don't care about the bloody tea anymore. I just want to eat something and more importantly, get of this bed. How hard can it be to get of this bed!? Or of from anything?! It's as if the longer I'm pregnant the harder it gets to get on or off things. The stairs are a struggle, sitting down and getting up is a struggle, getting up and from the bed... lets not even start about anything bathroom related.
That reminds me, I need to pee. Again. I might as well start wearing a diaper with as often as I need to go. Like Connor, more things for the rest of them to make fun off. All these little things add up to one big thing, making me more then a little embarrassed and unfomfortable. And I'm still not even close to getting off the...
"Ah!" Just as I was about to reach the edge, Angel nudges me... making me roll over a bit to far and has me tumbling down the bed. I quickly reach out my arms and stretch my legs to break the fall. As I sit... crouch? Stand? Something there, panting on all fours, I look at the floor with wide eyes of fright. Then, before I know it, my bottom lip starts to wobble, a sniffle gets out and tears are falling.
Why yes, yes I am a funny vampire, thank you. Nobody seems to realize that though. Hmpft. I roll my eyes at Wes and go back to playing with Connor's tiny toes. And boy are they tiny toes.
"Yes, because I tend to accuse you of that sort of thing and then put him right in your arms." Yes, that was sarcasm, Wes. Two can use it around this household. Whatever, if he wants to be cranky and think that I'm picking on him or accusing him of things then he can do so. I've got a cute son to play with, yes I do, yes I do. Okay, thinking in baby talk might not be the greatest thing there, Angel.
Oh, "oh!" I grab a hold of Connor at the sudden movement just out of reflex and then realize that Wes is falling off the damn bed! What the hell!
"Wes?" I say carefully after making sure Connor is alright. "Wes are you alright?" Is the baby okay? "What happened?" I ask, leaning over the edge of the bed to see Wes on all fours down there. Shoot. Now he must be really pissed at me.
"Well you're a confusing vampire!" I snip out, just because... well, because! I don't want to be nice to him! He *did* accuse me of such a thing, I keep thinking stubbornly. And then he goes on to be nice to me and doing that serene smiling thing that creeps out Gunn and Cordelia.
I can see now why, if I didn't know any better I'd go checking to see if he was wearing leather pants as well. I do know better, I think I would know if Angelus were out on the loose again. Slim chance of that happening ever again now is there?
Not that I have much time to think about it since the next thing *I* know? I'm flying off the bed and landing hard on the floor. Knees sting with the impact of the wooden floor and so do the flat of my hands. One of them flies to my stomach though as panic and fear takes over. As well as crying and sniffling pathetically.
Oh god... Need to stop, need to stop now. But when Angel asks me what happened? There's no stopping at all. With red-rimmed eyes and a wet face I look up at him and sniffle while hiccuping "you pushed me off the bed! You hate me! You don't love me anymore!"
Only because you seem to keep wanting to see things that aren't there, I think to myself after Wes says I'm such a confusing vampire. Since when have I been confusing? He's really just frustrating himself and being stubborn about this, isn't he? He *wants* to be cranky and I'm not playing along correctly, I guess.
But we seem to have bigger problems. "I did not push you off the bed," I say and then put a hand to my head, thinking that here I am turning five again and we're going all schoolyard here.
I *am* getting off the bed to help Wes up though. Oh, dear, he's crying. Not that that's so unusual these days... "I was trying to help you get out of bed. I don't hate you. C'mere," I murmur, hoisting Wes up off the floor without asking. If I had offered a hand, he would have pouted probably and sat there stubbornly staring down at the floor from his hands and knees.
I pull him up into my arms. "I didn't mean to make you fall, I'm sorry," Yes you did, evil vampire! "And you know I love you very much," I add, reaching brush away some tears.
"Maybe after you eat, you wanna take a walk? Since you're tired of the bed? I could go with you and we could walk around the courtyard," I try to...well, bribe him, at this point. Seems a little bit like dealing with a five year old, but...he's kinda been acting like one. Can't really blame him, but can't change that fact either.
"You did too," I whine... Oh dear god, I sound like the five year old I've never been. If I had ever, *ever* talked this way when I was a child? I'd be spending days in the cupboard. And that would be if father had been in a good mood and mother as well.
As it is, I wince at the sound of my own voice. Doesn't seem to stop me from acting like a bloody crying fool. Crouching there, breathing much to hard while clutching my stomach protectively. I also have to bite my tongue quite hard to keep myself from stating 'you do too' when Angel tells me he doesn't hate me.
Like I've said before, with the way I've been acting lately? I wouldn't blame him if he did. Damn these hormones I shouldn't even be having. My body can't cope with them the way a woman would be able too. And considering how pregnant women can get? I fear the progress of my own even more. Or rather, for those around me.
I keep sniffling as Angel pulls me up from the floor. A small, rather wet looking glare is send his way. "You did," I sniffle. I'm pretty sure he did want to make me fall. I mean, he does know his own strength and he wasn't even looking!
Sometimes Angel doesn't think before he acts. It's one thing to want to harm me, but to accidentally maybe harm the baby while he's at it? Quite another.
Doesn't keep me from leaning against Angel like the sniffling pathetic creature I am. So, so tired of all this. And I've so long to go. Well, few more month's but they already feel like bloody years. Decades. *Centuries*. I really do not understand how women do this. And then several times. Once is more, more then enough for me.
I keep hiccuping as I lean against Angel. Both hands now protectively curling around my stomach. What I want... what I want is to get out of the blood hotel. Not just the courtyard but just away from this all. But I can't, since the moment I step foot outside those doors? Not only would I have rather a lot of worried people 'subtly' hovering after me. No, I'd get stared at, asked about, and maybe even worse.
I mean, some demons know about it, and what better way to get to Angel then to threaten his unborn child. Since there is no way they can get to Connor. Connor who's giggling up at the both of us, making me smile watery at him.
"You mean waddle," I mutter, pressing my forehead against Angel's chest. I pause, bit my lip once again and then barely audible whisper... "I'm sorry."
'Did not' is so on the tip of my tongue. But I'm not five, I'm sure of it. ...Not anymore, that is.
"C'mere, c'mere." I bundle Wes into my arms, not caring if he's gonna push me away. Surprisingly though, he doesn't. "I didn't, and I don't hate you," I repeat because with this cranky, grumpy Wes, he doesn't seem to have very good hearing.
"No, I mean walk," I murmur, kissing his head, still with my arms around him. "You're not a duck just yet," I tease him lightly. My thumb wipes away a few more tears. "I'm sorry too," I say, running my hand up Wes' back and nape. "What can I do? Do you want some time to yourself? I can take Connor and you can read or nap or whatever to your heart's content... If you want," I make sure to add. I know I've been grating on his nerves. "Whatever you want, tiger," I promise him.
Okay, so maybe trying to push him off the bed wasn't such a good idea. Never said I was the smart one here. Nope. Never said that.
Calm down, calm down, calm down. That seems to be an ongoing mantra for me lately. The last few month's I'd say. Calm down, don't panic, don't cry, don't whine, don't be so cranky. Doesn't seem to help much though, does it? Not at all.
"Waddle," I correct him stubbornly when he corrects me. I'm not moving from where I'm leaning against him, because I don't want him to see me cry. Of course seconds later I realise that it's a bit too late for that. He's already seen it. Today. Yesterday. The day before... God, I'm a bloody mess.
With a sigh I pull my face away from his chest where I've attempted to hide myself. Wasn't really working either now was it? One hand has found its way to my stomach again. Folded around it protectively while it rumbles for food. Oh. Right. Food. That's what I was going to do.
"All I've been doing lately is bloody nap or read. And even my reading has been cut short by our overly protective friends," I sniffle. And an overly protective vampire as well, who tells me 'you need to rest your eyes and your mind'. I'm not pregnant with my eyes or my mind!
"I want," I mutter, bringing my other hand up to press against his chest. Close to the tattoo without my noticing it. "... this child out of me already. Can you do that?" I ask him, giving him a deploring look.
"No, I didn't think so. I'm hungry," I sigh with a trembling breath, "I want to eat." Maybe a nap later. I'm so tired of this whole... *this!*
"You still walk perfectly fine," I try to argue, but I know he isn't going to hear it. It's one of those things about pregnancy, I think. You always think you look awful. I think. Not that I've been around many pregnant women. Or men.
"Okay..." I say when he whines that he doesn't want to nap or read. Something more distracting then... Hmm.
My skin tingles when Wes' hand ends up brushing the mark without realizing it. That's still...taking some getting used to. I make a face when he asks if I could get the kid out of him. Of course I can't. But I did know that'd be the one thing that he would want. But I wasn't going to bring it up.
"Alright, I can re-heat some things," I shrug, assuming he wants me to do that. Though, he probably wants something entirely different by now. "Or I can go to the store," I offer. "But I thought I might do this before anything else," I add, hooking a finger under his chin gently to tilt his face up for a very soft, very loving kiss. Seems like he could use it even if he is cranky and grumpy.
Just as I'm about to let loose a serious rant about my inability to move whichever way I want, Angel helps me on the bed as though it's nothing to him. Which it probably is with his vampire strength. Still, I end up blinking stupidly at finding myself suddenly on the bed and not standing beside it while trying to-- well, get on it. Like a feather, which trust me, I am quite assuredly not.
Once again I can't help but think - and the very thought is ridiculous alone and another thing I never thought to be thinking at all - that next time Angel can be the one to carry the damn child.
"Thank you," I sigh belatedly, feeling like that bloody parrot I keep comparing myself too. Alright, Pryce, take it easy. No use getting upset or angry over... nothing at all really. Especially not when there's such a sweet little boy smiling at you as though he'd trust you with anything. Which, right now, is tea, so that really should take no effort for anyone.
Accept, possibly, if you're called Angel. Who sounds highly suspicious and even looks it as he eyes the bottle. It makes me narrow my eyes and a scowl form on my face. "Tea," I tell him primly as though this should bloody well be obvious to anyone. With a small huff and an exasperated look I hand the bottle to Connor.
"I'm not trying to poison your son, Angel," I mutter, watching as the boy takes hold of the bottle with both hands and happily starts to drink the tea. At least someone around here knows how it's done, I think as I look at Connor proudly.
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I'm scooting over closer anyway, in spite of the possible maelstrom to follow. It's just a natural thing to want to be closer to Wes and Connor. And our new baby. I wonder if it's going to be a boy or a girl. And Jesus, I don't know how we're going to figure out a name for him or her. Plus, are they going to sleep in the nursery with Connor? So many questions... Not to mention the obvious, like, how is Wes going to have this kid. I mean, I know there'll be surgery and stuff, but how are we going to know when the baby's ready to come out? They usually do that signaling on their own, don't they?
Not like I can mention any of that stuff to Wes though. He gets kind of a deer-in-headlights look at any sort of uncertainty about the pregnancy from me. And I'm not even going to think about Wes not being able to handle the delivery and maybe not...making it through all this. Yeah, not thinking about that.
So I just sidle up to Wes and put my arm around his shoulders while we watch our son...hold that damn bottle all by himself. I'm still not sure about this tea-drinking, but I guess as long as it's not alcohol or coffee... Or some magic concoction, I guess Connor's safe.
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Bloody idiot.
"Why shouldn't they drink milked down tea, Angel," I ask, the tone of my voice highly insulted. "It's a perfectly fine beverage for *anyone* to drink, not to mention civilized." Just because in his day and age they gave their children ale before they could walk! Well, the is *Irish* after all, they always were a strange sort of people. Now the English...
I give him another scowl and a mild glare not just or doubting me but for thinking I would actually harm Connor. "As if I'd do something harmful to your son," I mutter under my breath, reaching out to gently brush my hand over the boy's head.
Connor looks up, pausing his happy tea drinking to grin at me. It would have been one of those toothy happy grins if he actually had any teeth. instead it's just a happy grin and that's more then enough. It makes me smile softly at him and-- nearly get teary eyed just form looking at this simple happiness. So young, so simple the things are, I hope it stays that way for him for a long, long time.
With a vampire father and-- well, me, I have my doubts about that though.
"Can you hand me my cup of tea?" I ask, automatically leaning into his... embrace, if you wanted to call it that. Hug, but Angel isn't the hugging type really. Unless, of course, it's Connor. But who wouldn't want to hug that little adorable boy?
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"Our son," I correct again, which I will likely be doing for the rest of our lives. "Didn't say you would," I reply to his muttering under his breath. That's what happens when you mutter around a vampire. Heh.
I pass his tea over automatically, not saying a word about his congealing food. Much rather be kissing his temple - which I do - than chiding him about not eating anything that he asked for. Except his tea that he had to make himself. But whatever. Like I said, logic + Wes + pregnancy...not a lot happening there.
"Should we be picking out baby names?" I murmur, hand idly rubbing over Wes' shoulder. My other hand itching to tickle Connor's tiny foot and make him laugh, but I don't want him to choke since he's drinking so I hold back, placing my hand safely in my lap.
I know Connor's name came to me right away, but I don't have any ideas for new baby names at the moment. I guess I only had one name in me. Hmm. Maybe Wes has some ideas. Or will be freaking out at the mere thought.
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Not that there will be any late night research sessions for me in he near future. Or coffee. Sitting in the chair for longer then half an hour makes my back hurt like hell. My eyes can't seem to focus for too long with or without glasses. And even if they could, or if my back wasn't giving me problems? Gunn and Cordelia make certain I get enough sleep which means no staying up to late. At all.
"Obviously you think you do, since you've just implied that tea is bloody harmful for your son, then why are you letting me drink it? Wouldn't it be oh so harmful for you other child as well? Are you saying I'm unfit to be a parent for your children? Hmmm?" Blasted Irish oaf, attacking tea as if he were nothing but an American. They tossed the tea in the ocean even! I'm surrounded by barbarians.
Almost angrily I take the tea he's handing me. The only thing keeping me from actually doing it full force angrily is because my dignity wont allow me to treat tea this way. Instead I sip it carefully, feeling the familiar liquid go down, soothingly and calming. Just like Connor is content to sip his. Good boy, at least he knows not to mock the tea.
I just about finish my tea when Angel asks his question. Tea cup in one hand, my free hand automatically moves to my stomach to rub over the bulge there. Angel got to name Connor, of course, he's his son. I feel utterly childish for wanting to say that *I* want to name this child then. After all, I had to carry it... him... her inside me for nine bloody month's and that wasn't a picnic.
"I think we should as that blasted doctor of yours if he can figure out the baby's gender next time," I tell him. "Or at least I wish to find out and if you don't he can tell only me." And then I can pick out names. No... yes, still sounds too childish to say out loud.
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I roll my eyes at the rant that follows and thankfully he's not looking at me for that, he's too busy looking angrily at the tea. "As if I could make you stop drinking tea. You'd be even more cranky then," I mutter, smiling to myself. He can be as cranky and grumpy and bitchy as he wants. There's a baby in him! That's so cool!
"Nope, you're a great dad. For our kids," I say fondly, feathers unruffled at all his accusations while I give him another squeeze around the shoulders.
"Or you could just pick out a boy's and a girl's name and we can both be surprised," I say, turning my head to kiss his temple. And move my hand to his stomach as well. Huh, didn't even notice I did that. Kinda protective of the little guy already, I guess. Well, and Wes' hand is already there so I get to brush my fingers against his, conveniently. "I don't really have any ideas for a good name so if you wanna name the baby... that's fine with me," I add, giving his temple another kiss. Still smells good even with all the changes. All that marking stuff made him smell a little different and the baby of course makes him smell a little different, still like Wes, just different than he used to. I wonder if he tastes different too. I mean...his blood. I haven't drank from him in quite a while. Too worried about hurting the baby, really. Can't have Wes losing tons of blood when the baby is depending on him...
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I glare at him while he smiles at me as though he's happy as a clam. You'd almost think he was on some sort of drugs. I would believe that if he weren't a vampire. But since there's no Slayer around who's blood he can drink to get-- well to get high, that's probably not it.
Ergo, he's just bloody annoying. With his stupid smile and that serene look while I sit here seething about his insults and accusations. Makes me just glare at him even more. Which in turn seems to make him smile even more. It's-- as Cordelia would say, it's creepy. That's what it is. Maybe I should just ignore it. Well, some of it.
"Oh really?" I snip sarcastically, "Such a great dad that you feel the need to accuse me of harming them. By drinking bloody tea or giving them bloody tea. Hmpft." As if I would harm his children! I can't believe he'd even consider that!
I pull away from him grumpily when he kisses my temple, still feeling more then a little cranky about the whole tea issue. "No," I mutter stubbornly, "I wish to know it's gender." Besides, its not as though we're floating in money. Knowing the child's gender will make it easier to buy things for it... him ...her.
Pulling my hand away from my stomach and Angel's - with somewhat a feeling of regret - I wobble around a bit to try and get of the bed. I really do feel like the tire-man I've seen on the telly. Or marshmallow man, whatever it was. "I'm hungry," I grumble, "I want to eat something..." and I want to bloody well be able to *move*! Good god! "Urgh!"
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"I don't know anything about what babies are supposed to drink, Wes. You know I was just curious," I say, sighing a little bit though still trying not to let him get my goat. I know it's just the pregnancy making him so moody, I really do know it. But it is pretty hard to ignore when he gets so...ruthless. Well, ruthless in a cute way mostly.
Oh, we're not doing any kissing then? That gets him a raised eyebrow of my own. We're going to be 15 now, I see. "Alright, we'll find out its gender next time we go back to the doctor." Spoilsport. I lean over once Connor's thrown the bottle away again and tickle Connor's foot. Hee. He's so adorable when he gurgles and smiles. He is certainly learning how to be happy early on. Probably a good thing to learn with the serious stuff going on in this household.
"Well, I did make you that whole huge breakfast like you ask me to," I say smoothly, trying not to chuckle at the way Wes is lolling about on the bed. "Here," I give him a little nudge with my arm to see if that'll help him up--or possibly make him fall off the bed. Heh, oh that would be good with how cranky he's been. He needs a little kick in the pants. Not that I would do anything of the sort.
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His excuse that he was just curious earns him another glare while I roll around on the bed. And not rolling around in a fun way either. "No you weren't, you were accusing me of harming your son," I keep grumbling under my breath. Well, he was! He was questioning my ability to feed his son! As if I would... I already went over that several times.
I don't care about the bloody tea anymore. I just want to eat something and more importantly, get of this bed. How hard can it be to get of this bed!? Or of from anything?! It's as if the longer I'm pregnant the harder it gets to get on or off things. The stairs are a struggle, sitting down and getting up is a struggle, getting up and from the bed... lets not even start about anything bathroom related.
That reminds me, I need to pee. Again. I might as well start wearing a diaper with as often as I need to go. Like Connor, more things for the rest of them to make fun off. All these little things add up to one big thing, making me more then a little embarrassed and unfomfortable. And I'm still not even close to getting off the...
"Ah!" Just as I was about to reach the edge, Angel nudges me... making me roll over a bit to far and has me tumbling down the bed. I quickly reach out my arms and stretch my legs to break the fall. As I sit... crouch? Stand? Something there, panting on all fours, I look at the floor with wide eyes of fright. Then, before I know it, my bottom lip starts to wobble, a sniffle gets out and tears are falling.
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"Yes, because I tend to accuse you of that sort of thing and then put him right in your arms." Yes, that was sarcasm, Wes. Two can use it around this household. Whatever, if he wants to be cranky and think that I'm picking on him or accusing him of things then he can do so. I've got a cute son to play with, yes I do, yes I do. Okay, thinking in baby talk might not be the greatest thing there, Angel.
Oh, "oh!" I grab a hold of Connor at the sudden movement just out of reflex and then realize that Wes is falling off the damn bed! What the hell!
"Wes?" I say carefully after making sure Connor is alright. "Wes are you alright?" Is the baby okay? "What happened?" I ask, leaning over the edge of the bed to see Wes on all fours down there. Shoot. Now he must be really pissed at me.
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I can see now why, if I didn't know any better I'd go checking to see if he was wearing leather pants as well. I do know better, I think I would know if Angelus were out on the loose again. Slim chance of that happening ever again now is there?
Not that I have much time to think about it since the next thing *I* know? I'm flying off the bed and landing hard on the floor. Knees sting with the impact of the wooden floor and so do the flat of my hands. One of them flies to my stomach though as panic and fear takes over. As well as crying and sniffling pathetically.
Oh god... Need to stop, need to stop now. But when Angel asks me what happened? There's no stopping at all. With red-rimmed eyes and a wet face I look up at him and sniffle while hiccuping "you pushed me off the bed! You hate me! You don't love me anymore!"
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But we seem to have bigger problems. "I did not push you off the bed," I say and then put a hand to my head, thinking that here I am turning five again and we're going all schoolyard here.
I *am* getting off the bed to help Wes up though. Oh, dear, he's crying. Not that that's so unusual these days... "I was trying to help you get out of bed. I don't hate you. C'mere," I murmur, hoisting Wes up off the floor without asking. If I had offered a hand, he would have pouted probably and sat there stubbornly staring down at the floor from his hands and knees.
I pull him up into my arms. "I didn't mean to make you fall, I'm sorry," Yes you did, evil vampire! "And you know I love you very much," I add, reaching brush away some tears.
"Maybe after you eat, you wanna take a walk? Since you're tired of the bed? I could go with you and we could walk around the courtyard," I try to...well, bribe him, at this point. Seems a little bit like dealing with a five year old, but...he's kinda been acting like one. Can't really blame him, but can't change that fact either.
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As it is, I wince at the sound of my own voice. Doesn't seem to stop me from acting like a bloody crying fool. Crouching there, breathing much to hard while clutching my stomach protectively. I also have to bite my tongue quite hard to keep myself from stating 'you do too' when Angel tells me he doesn't hate me.
Like I've said before, with the way I've been acting lately? I wouldn't blame him if he did. Damn these hormones I shouldn't even be having. My body can't cope with them the way a woman would be able too. And considering how pregnant women can get? I fear the progress of my own even more. Or rather, for those around me.
I keep sniffling as Angel pulls me up from the floor. A small, rather wet looking glare is send his way. "You did," I sniffle. I'm pretty sure he did want to make me fall. I mean, he does know his own strength and he wasn't even looking!
Sometimes Angel doesn't think before he acts. It's one thing to want to harm me, but to accidentally maybe harm the baby while he's at it? Quite another.
Doesn't keep me from leaning against Angel like the sniffling pathetic creature I am. So, so tired of all this. And I've so long to go. Well, few more month's but they already feel like bloody years. Decades. *Centuries*. I really do not understand how women do this. And then several times. Once is more, more then enough for me.
I keep hiccuping as I lean against Angel. Both hands now protectively curling around my stomach. What I want... what I want is to get out of the blood hotel. Not just the courtyard but just away from this all. But I can't, since the moment I step foot outside those doors? Not only would I have rather a lot of worried people 'subtly' hovering after me. No, I'd get stared at, asked about, and maybe even worse.
I mean, some demons know about it, and what better way to get to Angel then to threaten his unborn child. Since there is no way they can get to Connor. Connor who's giggling up at the both of us, making me smile watery at him.
"You mean waddle," I mutter, pressing my forehead against Angel's chest. I pause, bit my lip once again and then barely audible whisper... "I'm sorry."
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"C'mere, c'mere." I bundle Wes into my arms, not caring if he's gonna push me away. Surprisingly though, he doesn't. "I didn't, and I don't hate you," I repeat because with this cranky, grumpy Wes, he doesn't seem to have very good hearing.
"No, I mean walk," I murmur, kissing his head, still with my arms around him. "You're not a duck just yet," I tease him lightly. My thumb wipes away a few more tears. "I'm sorry too," I say, running my hand up Wes' back and nape. "What can I do? Do you want some time to yourself? I can take Connor and you can read or nap or whatever to your heart's content... If you want," I make sure to add. I know I've been grating on his nerves. "Whatever you want, tiger," I promise him.
Okay, so maybe trying to push him off the bed wasn't such a good idea. Never said I was the smart one here. Nope. Never said that.
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"Waddle," I correct him stubbornly when he corrects me. I'm not moving from where I'm leaning against him, because I don't want him to see me cry. Of course seconds later I realise that it's a bit too late for that. He's already seen it. Today. Yesterday. The day before... God, I'm a bloody mess.
With a sigh I pull my face away from his chest where I've attempted to hide myself. Wasn't really working either now was it? One hand has found its way to my stomach again. Folded around it protectively while it rumbles for food. Oh. Right. Food. That's what I was going to do.
"All I've been doing lately is bloody nap or read. And even my reading has been cut short by our overly protective friends," I sniffle. And an overly protective vampire as well, who tells me 'you need to rest your eyes and your mind'. I'm not pregnant with my eyes or my mind!
"I want," I mutter, bringing my other hand up to press against his chest. Close to the tattoo without my noticing it. "... this child out of me already. Can you do that?" I ask him, giving him a deploring look.
"No, I didn't think so. I'm hungry," I sigh with a trembling breath, "I want to eat." Maybe a nap later. I'm so tired of this whole... *this!*
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"Okay..." I say when he whines that he doesn't want to nap or read. Something more distracting then... Hmm.
My skin tingles when Wes' hand ends up brushing the mark without realizing it. That's still...taking some getting used to. I make a face when he asks if I could get the kid out of him. Of course I can't. But I did know that'd be the one thing that he would want. But I wasn't going to bring it up.
"Alright, I can re-heat some things," I shrug, assuming he wants me to do that. Though, he probably wants something entirely different by now. "Or I can go to the store," I offer. "But I thought I might do this before anything else," I add, hooking a finger under his chin gently to tilt his face up for a very soft, very loving kiss. Seems like he could use it even if he is cranky and grumpy.
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