Bill whistled to himself a happy tune. With skillet in hand, he delighted in himself that he had the brilliant idea that, since he was up early, he would make a marvelous breakfast for the lovely Mrs. Cipher. Next to his omelets and chocolate muffins, he set the last of the strawberry pancakes, a favorite amongst the two, on the stack in the center of the table.
The time on the kitchen clock caught his eye, and he glanced across the shack's kitchen. "Since when does she sleep past eight?" He left the frying pan to soak before leaving towards their room. He gently pushed open the door and gave the aged wood a soft knock. "Mabel, my dear," he singsonged. "Breakfast is ready."

Mabel buried herself deeper into the covers. A low grunt was his only reply.

"Is anything the matter?" he asked, stepping into the room. All he heard was a soft moan before "I'm not hungry" graced his ears. Bill sat on the edge of the bed. "I made you your favorite. There's a big pile of chocolate muffins waiting for you."

"I'm feeling kinda-" was all she was able to finish before the smells of food wafted through the open door. Mabel flung the covers off of her before making a mad dash to the bathroom, where Bill could hear the sounds of retching. A mix of shock and disgust flitted across his features for Mabel had a immune system of steel. Plus, he would rather not admit, he was a bit of a germaphobe, with disease being the least pleasant experience humans could go through, in his opinion. Which only made his worry for her greater.

He inched his way to the bathroom, with Mabel flushing the toilet by the time of his arrival. "Are you... okay?" She gave a tired nod. He picked her up and left the room, coming back with a glass of water. Mabel gratefully took it and swished her mouth clean. "I'll be fine, I must've eaten something bad." "Wanna skip breakfast, then?" Bill asked with a hint of disappointment. Mabel shook her head. "Nah, I should probably eat something."

Mabel finished the muffin she was holding, proceeding to wipe melted chocolate chips on her napkin. She looked up to see the blond man across from her in a state of shock. "What?" she interrogated.

"Shooting Star, you ate six fist-sized muffins, four pancakes, and both of our omelets." He glanced at his watch. "All under seven minutes."

She huffed. "Well, don't you get hungry on an empty stomach?"

"Well, yeah, but you also ate my vegetarian omelet. You hate those."

Mabel pushed her chair out. "I can make you another one."

Bill waved her off. "No, no, don't. It's fine. How about you take today off? I can handle the shack myself."

Mabel looked up at him. "Are you sure?"

Bill gave her a benign smile. "Never been more so."

That had been a week ago. Mabel would wake up with nausea, eat a mountainous breakfast, and Bill would let her sleep all day. This seemed to be their new schedule.

"Is this your card?" Bill asked a tourist, pulling a Jack of Spades out of a jackalope's mouth. The tourist gave a throaty laugh and clapped his hands childishly. He led the group into the gift shop to buy some odd bobbles and gimmicks before letting them on their way.

A muffled sob came from past the "employees only" door. Bill hastily excused himself before slipping himself away from the shop and into the living room. He found his Shooting Star in a fetal position on the couch with an empty plate beside her. "Mabel, honey, what's wrong?" Her brittle voice would have broken most people's hearts even with what she said next.

"I-I made yo-ou lunc-ch, but s-some kid snu-uck back here an-d took it when I was-was in the bath-bathroom!" Bill knitted his brow together in a somber look. He knew her to get emotional at times but this was ridiculous.

"Mabel, are you feeling okay? I should close up shop early and take you to the doctor today."

"You don't want me to come?" He sat in front of her and gave her his best puppy dog eyes. /span/span/span"I just wanna make sure you're okay," Bill finished with his best pout.

Mabel retaliated with her own pout. "But Dipper's almost got his phD, so he could help."

Bill kissed her forehead. "Okay. Anything for you, Shooting Star. I'll go call him up. Go ahead and get dressed." He left her for the land line in the gift shop. It didn't take long for someone to pick up on the opposite end.

"Yes?"

"Hiya, Pine tree!"

"Bill," an irritated voice replied.

"Listen, I'm calling on behalf of Mabel."

"Is she okay?" Dipper immediately asked.

"Well, I'm not sure. She's requested for you to take her to the doctor's."

"Symptoms?"

"The biggest thing is her nausea. She's had it for a week and it isn't going away. And she's been really tired."

"I think I know where to take her. I'm coming over there now."

Bill smirked. "Thanks, brother-in-law!"

"It's been two years, stop it," Dipper spat before hanging up.

It didn't take long for Mabel's escort to show. Mabel came to the front door wearing her famous oversized shooting star sweater, redesigned, with the ex-demon behind her grabbing her purse. "Hope you feel better soon, sweetheart."

The two exchanged a quick kiss before she grabbed her purse from him. "Me, too."

Dipper wrinkled his nose. "Can you not?"

Mabel waved through Dipper's car window, a grin on her cheeks. Bill wiggled his fingers back at her.

Bill paced around Mabel's cellphone. She said the test results would be back today, and he was impatient to learn what was wrong with his other half. Mabel pulled him onto the couch beside her. "Jeez Bill, calm down. It's not like we were testing for terminal cancer or anything."

"How are you so sure?"

Mabel punched him in the side. "Chill out a bit, won't you?" she silverly laughed. "I'm gonna go get a glass of water. Want anything?"

Bill shook his head, his eyes trained on the phone. "Nah, I'm good." Mabel rolled her eyes playfully and made her way to the kitchen.

As soon as she stepped out, her phone started dancing across the coffee table with a buzz. Bill fumbled for it when he saw the caller ID. "H-hello?"

"Hello!" a cheery female voice replied. "Is Mrs. Cipher there?"

"Uh, n-no, this is her husband. Is Mabel okay? She doesn't have any kind of weird illness, does she?"

The lady on the other side laughed at the tension in his voice. "Oh, don't be silly, of course not! She has another scheduled appointment in exactly four weeks from now, and tell her to maybe cut back those chocolate muffins a bit."

"Wait, but why?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the cushion.

"Hmm, I thought she would have told you by now. It might be a good idea to sit down, then."

"I, I am."

"Her the test results are back, and I must say congratulations!"

"Wh... What?"

"In seven and a half months, you'll be the proud father of twins!"

"Tw, i..."

Bill's legs pushed him up from the shock before giving out from him.

Mabel heard a crash come from the living room. She rushed into the room to see Bill passed out on the ground. She hurriedly picked up the phone from his hand. "Hello? Hello? I heard a crash, are you okay?"

Mabel huffed an annoyed laugh. "I'm sorry, my dork of a husband just fainted. I assume at something good?"

"Twins, honey. Congrats!"

Mabel said a thank-you before hanging up. She gently shook the unconscious blond. "Bill, ya big goof. Wake up already." His eyes started to flutter open. Mabel breathed a laugh, shrugging her shoulders. "So? Aren't you gonna say something?"

Bill gave a lopsided grin and could only shake his head in amazement. "You knew, didn't you?"

Mabel giggled. "Call it Mother's Intuition."

He finally pulled her in for a kiss with him on the floor.