AN: This is a fluff collection. Be warned. All my fluffy Christine/Erik shorts will end up here.
"Come see, oh Erik you have to come and see this," Christine pleaded, laughing as her belly twitched and danced. Their child was growing ever more active as the days passed, but today was the first time she'd seen her skin move.
"What is it? What's wrong?" The man's voice was shrill with terror as he hurried into the bedroom. His wife smiled up at him as he entered.
"Nothing's wrong, dear," she laughed, "come and see. Our child's quite active today."
Even through his mask, she could tell he was raising an eyebrow at her. But he did as she instructed and sat at the edge of the bed. As he turned to look at her, she pulled up the fabric of her nightgown to expose the soft, milky flesh of her swollen abdomen.
"Christine, what are you—"
"Look," she said impatiently, pointing to her belly. For a long moment, nothing happened. But as Erik opened his mouth to ask what exactly he was supposed to be seeing, a tiny footprint poked out against the flesh of his wife's skin.
Hot tears stung his eyes as the tiny foot kicked out against Christine's flesh. She, on the other hand, couldn't contain her excitement. A huge, toothy grin spread across her face as she watched her husband's reactions.
"Isn't it amazing?" she breathed as their child's movement once again subsided. "It's the greatest feeling in the world."
Erik said nothing and simply continued to stare at his wife's exposed belly, silently begging the tiny foot to show itself once more. He was hardly sure he was even remembering to breathe as he watched, entranced.
"Erik?" Christine asked, but he did not answer her. His hands were shaking as they lay in his lap. For another long moment, she studied him intensely.
His muscles had gone rigid, and his posture— which had been fairly relaxed when he'd sat beside her— was such that she expected him to bolt away at any second. He looked like he was wound tighter than a piano wire. She had to think fast if she wanted to keep him from shutting down completely.
When she'd discovered the good news, he'd hidden away in his torture chamber for a week, coming out only when she'd threatened to enlist the Daroga's help in extracting him. When she'd begun to show in earnest, he'd fallen to his knees and hugged her midsection, sobbing sweet platitudes into her navel until she had to physically pry him away.
She didn't want to have to deal with another breakdown. Not now. But what could she do?
"Darling," she said, knowing that the pet name would cut through the fog in his head. "Would you like to feel it?"
"W-What?" his voice, usually so grand and booming, seemed smaller than a child's, his eyes wide with wonder.
"Give me your hand," she said, holding one of hers out expectantly. He glanced down at it nervously, raising a shaking hand in uncertainty. Before he could react, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and brought his fingertips to her stomach.
She shivered as his cold skin made contact with her belly, but didn't let his hand go even as he struggled against her grasp. For a few moments, she pressed his fingers against various spots on her stomach with no response.
Then, a flutter. And she no longer had to hold his hand against her flesh. His eyes widened to the point that it looked nearly painful, and he slowly allowed his entire hand to fall against her skin, causing her to shiver and giggle. The little one within her kicked and shifted against the cool touch of his hand, and the tiniest proud smile cracked his stony, frightened expression.
"That's your daddy, little baby," Christine cooed to her stomach. "Are you saying hi to your daddy?" As if in response, a tiny foot kicked out against her skin again, just beside her husband's pinky.
