Written for the February Word Challenge at The Delphic Expanse.

The Word was "pregnant"

As always, I don't own them, they'd have more fun it I did.

There was a pregnant pause. His hand was wrapped around her wrist, restraining her from slapping him across the face. The air was full of the possibilities of what could be said, of things that would never be said, of what he wanted to say most. Jon chose to say nothing at all. He just pulled her in closer and kissed her hard on the mouth. She yielded to his kiss for the briefest of moments and then shoved him away with all her might. "I HATE YOU!" she screamed. "I NEVER SHOULD HAVE LET YOU DO THIS TO ME!" With that, she spun, almost toppled over, and left, the door whooshing silently closed behind her.

"Well, that was awkward. You gonna go after her?" Trip drawled from his seat in the corner, a grin plastered across his face. T'Pol merely raised her eyebrow at him and he wiped away his grin faster then you could say 'Plomeek'.

Jon sat down into the chair with a thump, tired. "No, I'll let her cool off for a bit. If I finish my beer first maybe she will have had time to be in a better frame of mind by the time I get home."

"That'll have 'ta be some beer then. T'Pol wasn't rational until things were all said and done. It took forever!" Trip replied jovially. Once more T'Pol turned from her glass of juice and looked at Trip. This time both her eyebrows were raised. Trip swallowed hard and applied himself to his own beer, not looking up.

Jon watched the by-play and snorted, taking a sip of his beer. "Well, Phlox said it would get worse before it got better. And with two, the 'worse' is pretty bad. I suppose I can live with it, if she can. After all, I did 'do it to her' and she's the one living with the consequences twenty-four hours a day." He paused as he took one last sip of beer. He set the bottle down and rose to leave. "At least we only have a few more weeks and then she won't feel like killing me any longer."

"So you still don't know what you're havin'?" Trip ventured with a quick side-glance at T'Pol. She merely stared straight ahead, inhaled slowly, her nostrils flaring.

"No, Hoshi didn't want to find out, which has made it damn hard to know what to buy. So it's been two of everything in yellows and greens. She's even taken up knitting, and has been making enough booties to outfit a centipede!"

"Ah…" Trip drawled, smiling, and then trailed off, obviously reluctant to speak again and irritate again the Vulcan sitting next to him. T'Pol stirred and attempted to rise. Trip was on his feet in an instant and around the table. He extended his hand to her. T'Pol regarded it and then him for a moment, sighed audibly, and accepted it. He gently pulled her up and steadied her on her feet until she found her balance. Jon quickly hid his smile in his beer as T'Pol's glare fell on him. She turned, straightened as best she could, and slowly waddled out of the room, her huge belly preceding her. Trip and Jon exchanged a glance behind her back; Trip shrugged silently and rolled his eyes at her behavior. Jon smiled again while the open door whooshed closed behind an obviously gravid T'Pol.

Turning to Trip Jon said, "So you two still don't know either?"

"Nope" sighed Trip, but then brightened. "Ah'm hoping for another boy like Tucker the fourth, but she won't even entertain boy names this time. She's hoping a girl will be more…"

"Quiet and Vulcan-like?" supplied Jon with a grin, knowing full well the antics that Trip's little two-year-old son got into.

Trip picked up his beer, took a sip and swallowed. "You two picked out any names yet, yerselves?"

"A few, but Hoshi doesn't want to share them with anyone yet and I am NOT rocking the boat." Jon replied ruefully.

Trip smiled and raised his glass. "Well then, here's a toast to pregnant wives and the hormones we have'ta live with." Jon raised his glass to meet Trip's and laughing, they both finished their beers.