It was difficult to wait those first few weeks; Cynara had never been a patient person, and living with this little secret every hour of that time made it all the more irritating, particularly when Phil Coulson made it a point to see her the minute she got back from the Torden Stein.
"The boss says you were harassed," he began in that soft voice of his, arms crossed. "We're going to want a statement so we can move on this."
She looked at him for a second, not comprehending, and then blushed a little as the events with Rudi Grunst came back to mind. "Oh. It's been taken care of, Phil."
It had, too. When she'd gotten back to camp, Fress at her heels, Rudi was compiling data, his whole attitude completely desiccated of lust, his entire focus on the job. Everyone else picked up on it too; tensions relaxed as it became unspokenly clear to all that Doctor Grunst had undergone some serious change of persona while out with Cynara at the stone; a change for the damned better.
Trini Hessel had sidled up to Cynara in the kitchen later and given her a sidelong glance. "I don't know if you tasered him in the testicles or what, but my husband and I both thank you," she whispered, grinning.
Back in the here and now, Phil merely stared at her, and Cynara sighed. "Seriously Phil—it's over. We don't need to do anything."
He kept staring at her patiently, and she fought a squirm. Phil Coulson could outwait a gargoyle at times, and given what she was holding back right now . . .
"Phil," she began, trying not to sound impatient or annoyed, even though she was both, "occasionally things do work out, even without S.H.I.E.L.D. intervention."
"I know," he replied without missing a beat. "The fact that I'm alive bears that out. I think there's more to it, though."
Cynara tried to laugh it off. "You're always suspicious."
"I've had my share of hunches that paid off," he replied, only the tiniest hint of a smile at one corner of his mouth, "and you can't bluff worth a damn, 'Nara. I looked at Grunst's files; I know he was a serial misogynist with complaints against him going back over ten years. A man like that doesn't change overnight, not even through intimidation. Best I can figure is some sort of mind-wipe, or maybe in this case a libido-ectemy. Not too many beings who can do that trick, but I can think of one off-hand."
Cynara felt herself pale a bit; damn Phil for being sharp. She should have known he'd take her emails seriously. "Yeah well if anything did happen—and I'm not saying it did—you can see Grunst is alive and doing his job and not bothering anyone anymore, so that's a win-win, right?"
He looked at her for a few beats longer, then unfolded his arms and sighed quietly. "In the scheme of things I suppose you have a point, but the fact that someone who should be in Asgardian custody is out there, loose-that's not exactly happy news, 'Nara."
"Shouldn't you be asking Thor about this?" she replied, hoping to re-direct that intent gaze. "You know, the one who escorted him up there?"
"He's not his brother's keeper," Phil remarked, and gave a little sigh. "Look, I know you love your husband, and this case, yeah, he probably did womankind a favor by giving Grunst a permanent saltpeter treatment, but there's still a heck of a lot of Manhattan that hasn't forgotten what Loki's capable of."
"I know that," Cynara grumbled. "This was just . . . a personal matter."
His gaze was still unnerving, but finally Phil smiled. "It may be the only one I ever approve of, too. Just . . . be careful, right?"
It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell him then; Phil was her friend and she trusted him, but Cynara held back, feeling the weight of S.H.I.E.L.D. all around them.
-oo00oo-
Later, while shopping, she stocked up on pre-natal vitamins, and slipped two different pregnancy tests into her cart, hiding them under a mesh sack of Clementines, in her embarrassment. Luckily the cashier wasn't one of the regulars, so there were no comments or significant looks as the groceries were scanned and paid for with cash so the transaction couldn't be traced although the six plastic tubs of lemon grass earned her a raised eyebrow.
"For my pet, at home. He's spoiled," Cynara muttered. Sven-the-Fress certainly was, given his appetite. Still, he seemed to take to the currycomb and brushes well, and his coat was a silky beauty when she put in the time.
At home she gave Sven one of the tubs of lemongrass to chomp on, and carefully took the first pregnancy test kit with her into the bathroom. Five minutes later she stared from the stick to her own reflection in the mirror, smiling and red-eyed, at a complete loss for words.
Yes there was the simple logical thought process: my husband the intergalactic rogue has assured me I am pregnant with a daughter and then there was the overwhelming emotional reality of Holy SHIT I'm having a baby and it's going to be an Asgard/Human/ hint of Ice Giant hybrid!
Surreal. That was the only appropriate word for it. Cynara wandered into her living room and dropped herself onto the sofa there, unable to think coherently for a moment. Through the picture window she could see Mrs. Callufrax across the street, cranky and old as ever. Twilight was just beginning and the lovely rose and gold of the sky looked gorgeous.
Cynara thought about babies, and realized she didn't know much. Oh she knew how they were made of course, and a general idea of how they grew in the womb, but the whole process suddenly seemed ridiculous and frightening and honestly? Bizarre. She had a picture of millions of sperm each with Loki's horned helmet on, ambushing an egg that sauntered along . . .
This set off a series of hysterical giggles, and she found herself clinging to one of the pillows on the sofa, caught between crying and simply curling up in a ball for the rest of the night. Neither would be particularly comforting or helpful, so she took a breath and reached for her phone.
The number rang, and a sweet voice answered. "Nara? How are you, sweetie?"
"Hey mom," Cynara murmured a little breathlessly. "Could I come over tomorrow? I need some advice."
"You're always welcome, you know that!" her mother chided. "I have a match around five, but if you can stay the night that would be wonderful honey!"
"Oh I can be there in time to watch," Cynara murmured happily. "Who are you going against?"
"The Helena Handbaskets," her mother replied. "They're up and coming, but me and mine will wipe the rink with them." Cynara heard the happy little growl in her mother's tone and grinned to herself.
"Ah yes, the Hot Flashes," she snickered. "Still terrorizing the rink?"
"We don't terrorize," her mother primly rebuked her, "We annihilate, and if you get here early enough I'll even rotate you in."
"Pass," Cynara sighed. "No more cracked ribs or coccyxs for me, thanks." They chatted a bit more and Cynara hung up, still trying to figure out how best to break the news to her mother.
She slept restlessly that night, dreaming of being pursued by huge bowls of banana pudding. Briefly Loki passed through her thoughts, not speaking, but his gaze intimately sweet, and Cynara found herself profoundly sad to wake alone in the morning.
Sad that is, until she came downstairs to find three huge wooden kegs of mead on the kitchen table.
The scent of honeyed fruit nearly made her dizzy, and Cynara pulled the rolled parchment that was pinned to the nearest keg with a splinter of gold, setting the needle down as she unrolled the page.
The runes formed words easily thanks to Odin's gift, and she smiled at Loki's elegant script. My Bride: greetings. A goblet a day will nourish and protect the life within you. Until you are in my arms again—Loki, Laufeyson.
She sniffed, feeling her stomach settle a bit more, and when Cynara recognized the scent she laughed, the sound filling the kitchen. It took only a moment with one of the big kitchen knives to pry up the top of the first keg, and another one to dip a tumbler in.
The pale gold color gleamed in the light as she studied it. "Husband," Cynara sighed, "to you."
The banana pudding flavor hit her palate and she savored it.
-oo00oo-
It went better than she thought. Her mother took one look at her and screeched like a happy cockatoo. "OH MY GOD YES!"
"Mom!" Cynara gulped, hurrying over. "Stop!"
"YOU'RE PREG—" Tilly Wolfe didn't get to finish her bellow; Cynara clamped a hand over her mother's mouth. Slightly hurt, Tilly rolled her eyes reproachfully as her daughter sighed.
"Mom, yes, I am, but we need to be very . . . discreet about this, okay? I don't want anyone but you and Harry to know for the moment."
"We're the only ones that matter!" her mother pointed out gleefully! "Oh honey! You and Loki's baby is going to be gorgeous! With his long legs and his smile and his eyes . . ."
"And my-?" Cynara demanded, amused and annoyed. Clearly her husband had made an impression on his mother-in-law, despite the partial memory wipe.
"Well your brains and giggle and hair of course!" her mother finished. "You both have terrific genes you know. So how far along are you? How does Loki feel about it? Do you want a boy or a girl?"
"Not long; he's thrilled; it's a girl," Cynara replied. She opened the fridge and inspected the contents for a moment, bypassing the beer and going for a bottle of tea instead. "I'm going to need a pediatrician though. I was sort of hoping to find one out here in Perth Amboy."
The further from New York the better, she hoped. Everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ knew she didn't like doctors and Cynara hoped to be able to use that as an excuse should anyone ask. Her mother pushed a platter of muffins towards her.
"Josephine Finkle; her mother's on the team. Josie's an OBGYN with one of the satellite clinics," Tilly smiled. "Oh honey I'm so thrilled! I'll go call and see about getting you an appointment."
Cynara took her tea out to the back yard and watched her step-father, who was clipping the back hedge. He gave her a nod and a smile. "So. Given Tilly's yelling, I'm going to assume you're, ah, in the family way?"
"On the money."
"Good to know. Mazel Tov."
"Thanks," Cynara grinned and accepted his quick hug. "Mom's going to be a bit hyper for a while."
"No shit. Still . . . she's happy, and you're happy, so it's good," Harry told her with a shrug. "Your hubby . . . he's pleased too?"
"Right now," Cynara smirked, "he's over the moon."
Harry relaxed a little and nodded. "Guys can get that way yeah."
They chatted a bit more and Cynara made her way back into the house, amused at how well her parents were taking the news. Her mother had never made any bones about wanting grandchildren, but it was heartwarming to see that Harry was pleased as well.
Matters were off to a good start, and that helped her relax a bit.