She goes to prop herself up to see it more clearly before wincing and deciding that's a bad idea.
The minute the collar came off, the nausea was gone--and she's kind of loving the fact that morning sickness doesn't seem to be hitting her.
Back pain and heartburn, though? Those are not thrilling her.
Still, she can see well enough. "S'pretty," she says, though she is not at all biased, of course, when it comes to Piotr. "...And red."
Well, it is! At this stage!
So shoot her, she's not having the best day, and she's coping pretty well with it. She's not at her most eloquent.
"But pretty!" That's added hastily again, with more emphasis, and a grin that's cut off in a grimace. A moment later it switches to a puzzled frown as she finally looks down at her stomach.
"--Hey, Piotr? I didn't, like, flail all night in my sleep or something, did I?" She's pretty sure that's not it; her sleep, and she's willing to bet she has Someone to thank for this, has been wonderful since the collar's been off. Even the nights she shifted about some, it's been minor.
Something is bothering her. Her eyes are half-lidded, as she slows her breathing and starts to go through techniques to tune out the various and sundry--and oh so many, which she still has to work to ignore, though she won't bring that up--sensations, one at a time, as she identifies each one and makes sure that's not what's bothering her.
"Something's different, though. --And don't freak out, I said different, I didn't say bad. I don't...I don't think it's bad. Just--I can't get comfortable."
Which she's muttered about from time to time, but never with this puzzled tone before.
It's not her back, and she keeps shifting like it was, she realizes--okay, that's why she hasn't made it better, but--
Is something wrong? She doesn't sound it, quite, but--
He's no less confused, and a little worried no matter what she says.
But he immediately sets down his brush and comes obediently over. (Absently, he tries to clean the worst of the wet paint off his fingers. It only sort of works.)
She's also not too worried about the paint, though she flips her shirt--not maternity, but only because it's an oversized Cubs shirt, and yes, she really needs to stop going through the few items she owns that fit now and break down and buy maternity clothing, shut up--before reaching for his hand.
And gently putting it on her stomach, eyes still half-shut and breathing slow as she continues the techniques Logan taught her a long time ago, a little amazed in the back of her head she's using them this way. For this. For this.
"By your fingertips. Wait. Just wait and--there."
She knows it isn't enough that it justifies the discomfort she's felt--if she were human.
But she's not, and she hasn't phased in oh so long, and--and.
All right. Maybe that conversation needs to be had now.
But first--first.
"There," she murmurs, more softly, eyes opening to look at Piotr, as she feels the flutter and shift of movement again.
You're as active as your mama and daddy, little girl, aren't you? You want to be moving just like me. That's what I didn't realize.
To her, it's impossible to ignore--it was before, and more so now that she's identified what the sensation she's never had before is--and she's...
Yes.
That talk can't be put off any more, she knows.
Or at least not for even hours, but--
A few minutes, at least. Because Piotr's face right now makes her want to laugh and cry at the same time.
"All over the place, yeah. There's too much--background noise," she says, waving a hand briefly, vaguely, in hopes that explains what she means, "with feeling, and I didn't--I didn't realize what it was until she kept it up enough," and her voice becomes dry, "to force my attention her way.
"I suspect this is going to happen a lot." But she's smiling widely as she brushes her mouth against his again, softly.
"She's restless."
She's projecting? the narration asks, meaning a different she entirely?
Possibly, but as it's Kate's daughter, both are capable of being true.
Let's hope she doesn't have her mama's kicks, at least--she'll be grateful for that alone.
"Cause you're never restless," Kate says dryly, and then shifts a little again. "Sit with me? I wanna see if you feel her move without me telling you."
For a couple reasons.
"...She's going to exhaust us in ways bad guys never have, isn't she?"
"...Da. She is. But we have many friends we can make look after her for a little while too. The bad guys are very persistant."
You cling to that dream of babysitters, Petey.
While he's saying this, he's settling onto the bed, and shifting carefully over. If there's an easy way to be Kate's backrest, that seems the most comfortable for all right now.
"...So which of us is going to start building up the blackmail file to get those babysitters to not run and hide?" she says dryly.
It is possible Kate has just developed a secondary mutation and is reading Piotr's mind; it is also possible that having known him over a decade, she can do it in her own way without actual telepathy. Either way, she's shifting into his lap, awkwardly and with a wince when the blanket shifts under her hand, once he seems comfortable.
"Sometimes, I can't remember why I put up with dating a giant," she muses, settling both of his arms more firmly about her and resting her head lightly on his chest. "And then I remember that it means I get this. Totally worth it. Even if I'm pretty sure I'm going to develop a permanent crick in my neck."
Height differences, when extreme, can have annoyances.
But still: totally worth it.
Especially with moments like this.
"Man. Now I know why I'm tired all the time. Apparently she's stolen every amount of energy I might have had to make her displeasure at the size of her accommodations known."
He kisses her hair lightly anyway, and politely does not point out that it's just as much her fault for being tiny. Neck-aches all around! (And completely worth it all around.)
"Well. If I did, it could use updating, which is not saying I do," she replies lightly.
SHE is not the unusually tall giant! Many people are her height! Kate feels this is important to make clear.
Yes.
(She does neckrubs in turn, so it is likely neither of them will complain much.)
She's still smiling, but it fades, a little, as she thinks, realizes that now she's having more trouble ignoring the sensations as their daughter moves about, and it's a conscious act to not begin to gnaw at her lip.
"I know she's not moving--it's not like she's a soccer star in there, or jumping around. I know that," she says after a few moments, slowly. "But it feels like she is."
He's been focusing, most of his attention on his palms against her skin and every bit of motion that might possibly flutter against them.
He doesn't really feel anything.
But that's through skin, and that's different. And he's not Kate, which is different too; he has big farmer's hands, and she has always paid great attention to what she's feeling and what she's phasing through. Or what she isn't.
He moves his head a little against hers, listening, and says nothing yet.
When she's born, they will have a newborn baby in the mansion and in their lives, keeping them awake and demanding food and attention, and that will be an upheaval for everything. Babies always are.
The minute the collar came off, the nausea was gone--and she's kind of loving the fact that morning sickness doesn't seem to be hitting her.
Back pain and heartburn, though? Those are not thrilling her.
Still, she can see well enough. "S'pretty," she says, though she is not at all biased, of course, when it comes to Piotr. "...And red."
Well, it is! At this stage!
So shoot her, she's not having the best day, and she's coping pretty well with it. She's not at her most eloquent.
"But pretty!" That's added hastily again, with more emphasis, and a grin that's cut off in a grimace. A moment later it switches to a puzzled frown as she finally looks down at her stomach.
"--Hey, Piotr? I didn't, like, flail all night in my sleep or something, did I?" She's pretty sure that's not it; her sleep, and she's willing to bet she has Someone to thank for this, has been wonderful since the collar's been off. Even the nights she shifted about some, it's been minor.
Reply
"No."
Kate is grimacing; Piotr is frowning, just a little.
"I noticed nothing."
And he's not that sound a sleeper.
Reply
She looks more perplexed now than anything else.
Something is bothering her. Her eyes are half-lidded, as she slows her breathing and starts to go through techniques to tune out the various and sundry--and oh so many, which she still has to work to ignore, though she won't bring that up--sensations, one at a time, as she identifies each one and makes sure that's not what's bothering her.
"Something's different, though. --And don't freak out, I said different, I didn't say bad. I don't...I don't think it's bad. Just--I can't get comfortable."
Which she's muttered about from time to time, but never with this puzzled tone before.
It's not her back, and she keeps shifting like it was, she realizes--okay, that's why she hasn't made it better, but--
Oh.
You. It's you.
"--Petey? C'mere."
Reply
He's no less confused, and a little worried no matter what she says.
But he immediately sets down his brush and comes obediently over. (Absently, he tries to clean the worst of the wet paint off his fingers. It only sort of works.)
Reply
She thinks.
She's also not too worried about the paint, though she flips her shirt--not maternity, but only because it's an oversized Cubs shirt, and yes, she really needs to stop going through the few items she owns that fit now and break down and buy maternity clothing, shut up--before reaching for his hand.
And gently putting it on her stomach, eyes still half-shut and breathing slow as she continues the techniques Logan taught her a long time ago, a little amazed in the back of her head she's using them this way. For this. For this.
"By your fingertips. Wait. Just wait and--there."
She knows it isn't enough that it justifies the discomfort she's felt--if she were human.
But she's not, and she hasn't phased in oh so long, and--and.
All right. Maybe that conversation needs to be had now.
But first--first.
"There," she murmurs, more softly, eyes opening to look at Piotr, as she feels the flutter and shift of movement again.
You're as active as your mama and daddy, little girl, aren't you? You want to be moving just like me. That's what I didn't realize.
Reply
He's not sure if he felt that little flutter or if he only imagined it, between Kate's words and his own sudden hopes.
But maybe. Maybe.
And Kate did.
His face is soft, shining and awed. He spreads his hand against her stomach, so gently, and leans in to kiss the corner of her mouth lightly.
"She is moving. Little girl."
Reply
Yes.
That talk can't be put off any more, she knows.
Or at least not for even hours, but--
A few minutes, at least. Because Piotr's face right now makes her want to laugh and cry at the same time.
"All over the place, yeah. There's too much--background noise," she says, waving a hand briefly, vaguely, in hopes that explains what she means, "with feeling, and I didn't--I didn't realize what it was until she kept it up enough," and her voice becomes dry, "to force my attention her way.
"I suspect this is going to happen a lot." But she's smiling widely as she brushes her mouth against his again, softly.
"She's restless."
She's projecting? the narration asks, meaning a different she entirely?
Possibly, but as it's Kate's daughter, both are capable of being true.
Reply
He can't really care now, though.
"Da."
"She is like her mama. She wants to move."
Let us hope she's not also like her papa, and strong.
Reply
Let's hope she doesn't have her mama's kicks, at least--she'll be grateful for that alone.
"Cause you're never restless," Kate says dryly, and then shifts a little again. "Sit with me? I wanna see if you feel her move without me telling you."
For a couple reasons.
"...She's going to exhaust us in ways bad guys never have, isn't she?"
Reply
"...Da. She is. But we have many friends we can make look after her for a little while too. The bad guys are very persistant."
You cling to that dream of babysitters, Petey.
While he's saying this, he's settling onto the bed, and shifting carefully over. If there's an easy way to be Kate's backrest, that seems the most comfortable for all right now.
(And it lets him keep a hand on her stomach.)
Reply
It is possible Kate has just developed a secondary mutation and is reading Piotr's mind; it is also possible that having known him over a decade, she can do it in her own way without actual telepathy. Either way, she's shifting into his lap, awkwardly and with a wince when the blanket shifts under her hand, once he seems comfortable.
"Sometimes, I can't remember why I put up with dating a giant," she muses, settling both of his arms more firmly about her and resting her head lightly on his chest. "And then I remember that it means I get this. Totally worth it. Even if I'm pretty sure I'm going to develop a permanent crick in my neck."
Height differences, when extreme, can have annoyances.
But still: totally worth it.
Especially with moments like this.
"Man. Now I know why I'm tired all the time. Apparently she's stolen every amount of energy I might have had to make her displeasure at the size of her accommodations known."
Reply
You disappoint him, genius hacker Katya.
He kisses her hair lightly anyway, and politely does not point out that it's just as much her fault for being tiny. Neck-aches all around! (And completely worth it all around.)
Reply
SHE is not the unusually tall giant! Many people are her height! Kate feels this is important to make clear.
Yes.
(She does neckrubs in turn, so it is likely neither of them will complain much.)
She's still smiling, but it fades, a little, as she thinks, realizes that now she's having more trouble ignoring the sensations as their daughter moves about, and it's a conscious act to not begin to gnaw at her lip.
"I know she's not moving--it's not like she's a soccer star in there, or jumping around. I know that," she says after a few moments, slowly. "But it feels like she is."
Reply
He doesn't really feel anything.
But that's through skin, and that's different. And he's not Kate, which is different too; he has big farmer's hands, and she has always paid great attention to what she's feeling and what she's phasing through. Or what she isn't.
He moves his head a little against hers, listening, and says nothing yet.
Reply
Yeah.
Now's probably the right time. If not when she wants to (at all).
She sighs and rubs her thumb along the back of his hand, slowly, eyes focused on both of their hands and mind focused on saying this best she can.
"I'm...I've been thinking," she says finally, slowly, "about what happens after she's born, and I'm...I'm a little--concerned, I guess."
Reply
But he's pretty sure that's not what she means.
"Hmm?"
Reply
Leave a comment