Hi, guys! I'm baaaaaack! :D I know I said I'd probably never write more for Buck and Maggie, but I was reading through reviews after re-reading my Paradise series and I realized I never did get around to writing my little story for how Buck and Maggie named the kits! And now that I'm a momma myself, I thought this would be sweet and kinda fun. But I do warn ya'll, there will be a sad chapter.
This will be somewhat therapeutic for me, so I'll post a warning on the sad chapter.
Without further ado, here's our next little slice of Paradise! This story is dedicated to my own kiddos. My summer child, my angel, and my rainbow.
It was a relief to know that I hadn't lost my kits after everything that happened with Nick and the search for Peaches. Ever since the mammals left, with invitations to come visit should we ever desire, Buck made sure I never left our treehouse. I only protested so much as my visits for the still recovering dinosaurs under my care, but Buck wouldn't hear of it and promised that he would go in my stead. Of course there was the matter of Luna - Rudy's little hatchling. Buck swore he would leave a satchel of the healing berry tonic I made near the river by Rudy's cave. True to his word that he would not encroach on the father and daughter dinos.
I tried to relax. I definitely struggled to relax. Not being allowed to fly or go on rounds or adventures, it really tried my nerves. So I spent a lot of time talking to the memorial for Buck's pineapple. And preparing our tree.
I must have driven Buck mad - more mad - with my requests for the kits' arrival. I'm sure half of the furs he collected for the birthing nest came from above the ice, but that's fine with me. I think I want our kits to know the smells of the place their parents came from. Who knows? Maybe we would take them here one day. But for now, I need to make sure our tree is comfortable. A little slice of Paradise.
The she-weasel tilted her head one way then the other as she inspected her handiwork. With a puff of air, she blew the long strands of her fur out of her eyes and grumbled that something just wasn't right about the pile of furs, leaves, and down feathers. Maggie scrambled forward and began rearranging the nest yet again.
A low chuckle from behind her caused her ears to twist back toward the sound. Maggie cast a reproachful glare over her shoulder at her mate before wordlessly returning to her task.
"It looks fine, Margaret," the fellow weasel soothed as his clawed feet padded across the smooth tree home floor. "Everything is ready for when the kits arrive."
Maggie sighed and settled back on her heels. She rubbed her lower back and winced. "I just want it to be perfect. I don't know what I'm doing - or - or what to expect!"
"It's not to late," Buck said to her as he settled in a kneeling position behind her to start rubbing her sore back. "I can always nip back up top side and see if Ellie could come down. She did offah to come down for the birth." The weasel chuckled again. "She even said she could drag down the tiger - since he was the'ah for Peaches' birth."
An amused smile tugged at the she-weasel's lips. "Poor, Diego." Maggie blinked rapidly and placed a hand to her head, swaying a bit in Buck's paws.
His one eye watched her nervously. "You overdid it today, Mags. Come sit down 'fore you faint again."
"I did not over do anything," Maggie groused, but she did as she was told. Her dizzy spells frightened her more than she let on to her mate. "I just need some water and food."
"If ya can keep it down," Buck worried as he went to fetch the pregnant weasel some sustenance.
Maggie made herself comfortable among the furs she'd prepared for when she gave birth. It was a comfortable whelping nest. On the main level of their tree so no curious kits could crawl too far away or off a branch. She looked around at their home with a discerning eye. They were as ready as they would ever be, no doubt.
When Buck returned with their dinner, he settled in beside her and told her of his expedition that day. Maggie listened, laughing and exclaiming at all the right places. Her mate really was an excellent storyteller, and he really enjoyed his lovely audience. She couldn't help but smile and think of all the new little ears who would be clambering about him for stories old and new.
Maggie winced again and set her coconut shell filled with berry juice aside and started rubbing her lower back. Should her back be in this much pain from just moving some furs? Buck's eye was noting her discomfort, and he looked ready to say something.
"I'm fine," Maggie assured him firmly. She even forced a smile to seal her little white lie. "I probably just pulled or strained something. These kits are getting heavy, so any little movement or wrong twist seems to hurt."
"I can still go back for Ellie," Buck said lowly, his concern heavy. "She said to come get her if there was any trouble."
The she-weasel shook her head and sidled up against the auburn male. "No, I'll be fine after I get some sleep. You'll see! I'll be fine tomorrow." Maggie yawned, enjoying the way Buck's arms folded around her. "We still have a week," she reminded him.
Buck's one paw began rubbing her bandaged one as he smiled. "Aye. Just one more week until we see our little mates."