Much Ado About a Shrew
Disclaimer: I only wish I owned the collected works of Shakespeare. As it is, I only own a book of them. Well, several books. But that's beside the point.
Summary: If Katherine was aggressive when she was wooed and wed, what about when she was pregnant?
Petruchio loved his wife, he really did, but one could only be pushed so far. Being kicked out of his bedroom and told that he could never touch her again was too far.
After all, it wasn't entirely his fault that she was expecting their first child. After all, she hadn't exactly been unwilling. In fact, as he had pointed out to her, it had been her idea.
Petruchio had been to Milan on business for nearly a month. He had missed her sorely, and was quite exuberant to return to her and Verona. She, apparently, had been lonely without him as well. She had been waiting in his bedroom wearing nothing but her undergarments. So he had shown her how much he missed her.
Then there was this morning. He had woken up to Katherine emptying the contents of her stomach into the chamber pot. He had tried to be compassionate, asking her if she was okay. In response, she had pushed him away, kicked him out of the room, and told him there was nothing he could do. He had done enough.
"What are you talking about?" he had asked.
"I'm going to have a baby, damn you!" she had bellowed. She looked at him with pure hatred. "I'm never letting you touch me again!" And she had slammed the door.
Petruchio had not been able to do anything but stand there staring at the door, his mouth agape. He had always heard that the expectation of the birth of one's heir was a joyous time. Of course, his friends had not married a shrew.
He had immediately gone to his father's, which is where he found himself now.
"So she's not taking it well," his father asked.
"I thought that was obvious. I mean, she kicked me out of the bedroom! And I'm never to touch her again!"
The old man laughed. "I doubt she meant it. I mean, your mother said that when she was expecting you. And then we had Juliet, Antonio, and Sophia."
Petruchio thought for a moment. "Really? Mom said that?"
His father grinned. "Oh yes. You see, Petruchio, your mother was a bit of a shrew as well." He thought for a moment. "I just had to tell her how much it meant to me that she loved me enough to bear my child."
Petruchio thanked his father and left, pondering this advice.
When he returned home, his servants were scurrying around the kitchen.
"What's going on?"
"The mistress wants pheasant. And apple pie. And shepherd pie," the cook sighed.
He grinned. "She's expecting you know."
"I figured that. No sane woman wants that much rich food. Like or not she'll be spewing it back up tomorrow morning."
Petruchio agreed. "However, the whims of an increasing woman must be catered to." He took a whiff of the baking apples. "I'll go see what my wife is up to."
He found her in the bedroom throwing things left and right. "Sblood! Zounds! Beshrew the day I ever wed!" she was bellowing.
"Kate?"
She turned. "What do you want?"
"I want to talk to you."
She eyed him skeptically, but didn't stop him from entering. "About what?"
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm feeling sick and bloated, thank you. I'm going to have your child, and I already feel like a cow. Of course, I shall soon become one. And I'm going to be fat! I won't be able to leave the house to go to Lucentio and Bianca's masque because I'll be gigantic!"
"I'll stay here with you. We can have our own masque."
"No. It won't be the same. I want to have this baby now so I can get it over with."
He laughed. "Sadly, it doesn't work that way. You have to wait nine months like everyone else."
She frowned. "I'm scared, Trukie."
He was taken aback. This was one thing he hadn't expected her to say. He sat down on a settee in shock and was further confused when she sat down beside him and put her head on his shoulder.
"Trukie, Mama died when she had Bianca. I don't want to die." The tears began to fall down her face. "I'm so scared."
He did the only thing he could think of—he held her closer. "Now Kate, I won't let you die. I'll have the best doctors from Verona and Padua here. I love you, Kate, and I won't let you die."
She looked up at him. "You promise?"
"I swear." He kissed her forehead. "You are giving me the greatest gift, Kate. You are going to have my baby. My baby. And I love you even more than ever for that."
And she kissed him. And Petruchio wondered why his friends had ever told him to avoid the shrew.
A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed. Thanks to my beta jwoods471 who read this even though she has no clue who the people in this story are and doesn't really like Shakespeare.
Please review!