--- Chapter Four ---

expletives

Actually, all in all Jonathan took the whole thing surprisingly well, generally speaking that is. In fact, apart from the initial shock and screaming, one might even say that he acted a real gentleman about the condition of things. However, Bridget understandably had trouble moving past the expression that had occupied his face when he first saw her.

In fact, had she been there, she might've recognized said expression as similar to the one he wore upon his first meeting with the Scorpion King.

Though it wouldn't have made her feel any better.

She had been performing her thrice daily Official Fridge Scrummage (note "official"- her actual rate of food scavenging per day hit a very healthy eight to nine times since her pregnancy) when she heard the front door ease open. Her eyes went wide and in a fluid motion she'd closed the refrigerator door and leaned back against it, her hand over her mouth. The refrigerator backed up to the wall opposite the front door, and when Bridget leaned around the corner she could see the top of Jonathan's head as he dropped his heavy suitcase on the foyer floor.

Successfully suppressing the urge to leap into Jonathan's arms, Bridget had to calmly remind herself of Jonathan's unawareness of their…achievement, and that charging at him with a belly full of baby might be a bit more than he could handle. Especially since he'd just spent some quality time on the train from King's Cross to Cambridge, and that alone was enough to drive anybody mental.

She smoothed her dress, deciding that since Jonathan was uninformed of her actually staying at his flat, she could gather her thoughts before sneaking up on him. After all, he'd probably head into the bedroom first anyway—

As Bridget turned the corner around the fridge, her forehead came in sharp collision with Jonathan's chin, and they both reacted with a yelp.

"Bloody fucking hell!" Jonathan shouted, more out of surprise than of pain, staring at Bridget for the mere fact that she was just there, not having let his eyes wander away from her face quite yet.

Though one hand was protectively pressed against her belly, Bridget's other hand lifted to rub her forehead, wincing and preparing for the second cry of shock that would inevitably expel from Jonathan's gaping mouth.

But he still hadn't noticed. Grinning good-naturedly, he shook his head at Bridget, "Buggar all, you scared me, Bridge. What are you doing here?"

Bridget gaped as Jonathan laughed and pulled her into a hug, unable to believe that he hadn't noticed what she felt was a fairly colossal detail. Her smile softened for a very brief moment as she felt his lips against the top of her head, his arms around her—but that being said, the moment was very brief because it only takes so long for even an idiot to realize he's hugging a pregnant woman.

As Bridget's belly brushed against Jonathan's own, he froze and she froze in suit. Bridget winced, but instead of mimicking her wince, Jonathan pulled back from her suddenly, his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arms length.

Then, he screamed.

Perhaps screamed isn't the gallant, manly sort of word Jonathan would have liked his cry to be described with, but it was a scream nevertheless. Scream most adequately fit the noise, and it was coupled rather nicely with the shriek that Bridget chimed in with.

Panic stricken, Jonathan stared bewilderedly at Bridget, "What are you screaming for- you knew about this!"

Finding her breath coming at a quicker pace, Bridget stared, looking near tears, "You frightened me."

"You're…you're….with child!" Jonathan spat, finding it difficult to put a label on what he was seeing, finding that shaking his head intensely wasn't helping him think.

"I know that!"

"Wuh…wuhh…." Jonathan blubbered, shaking his head as he let go of Bridget's shoulders and began to pace, eyes wild. "When did this happen? What did you do? Why are you pregnant!"

Stammering, Bridget's forehead crinkled and she waved her hands as she answered him, "Why am I pregnant? What did I DO? I'm pregnant because of you, you great bloody tosser!"

"But-but-but…." Jonathan flailed, smacking his hands over his face a little too hard, before letting his hands slide down his face until he could peek over timidly at her, "But when?"

Bridget looked at him for a moment, her breathing starting to slow down as she took pity on him, helpless as he looked standing there. He was, after all, her weakness, and she hated him for it. No matter how much of a complete prat he was being, she could always count on her sympathies and 'well he doesn't know better's to kick in eventually. Always bloody did.

Wondering why her eyes suddenly welled up with tears, she shrugged her shoulders, brushing her hair from her eyes as she shook her head, "The doctor told me I was nearly two months along a few weeks after you left. I suppose I was too busy with commencement and all my papers to notice any of the symptoms."

"What like, vomiting and feelings of emotional anarchy?"

Snapping, Bridget shouted her reply, "Jonathan don't you think I would notice vomiting and feelings of emotional anarchy?!"

Jonathan cowered a bit, grumbling at his feet after a tense silence, "Well then maybe you aren't-"

"Of course I am! Look at me!"

Wincing, Jonathan glanced up at her timidly, shooting her a helpless look, which she greeted with eyes glaring daggers. After a moment of shrinking under her gaze, his indignant side returned and his forehead creased, standing up a bit straighter, "Hang on a minute, why didn't you contact me about this, err, let's call it a happy accident, shall we?"

Bridget ignored the 'happy accident' dig and took at step toward him, pointing an accusatory finger directly at his nose, "That is a bit difficult to accomplish, Jonathan, when you disappear to God-knows-where and don't leave me any way to reach you! What was I suppose to do, hop on my magic carpet? Spin a globe and point at a random spot and just hope that that's where you happened to be?! It's difficult to get in touch with someone when you DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY ARE!"

"Well you don't have to shout-"

"I think I do have to shout! I think I have every right to bloody shout, Jonathan!" Bridget continued, shouting, naturally. But behind the shouting there was all the loneliness and the worrying that he wouldn't come back, and the tears that she'd, by her standards, done a quite good job of holding in, were starting to emerge. "I've had to deal with this all on my own, and the least you can do is be nice to me."

Heart breaking, Jonathan took her in, standing there in all her pregnant glory. Other than the obvious vast physical change, she looked just the same as when he left her. Blonde curls were haphazardly tied back and thin arms dangling on either side of that enormous belly made them look all the more twiggy. Her eyes had gone puffy and the tears running down her cheeks caused her fair skin to burn a bright red, and with a small flicker of a smile Jonathan noticed for the first time a smudge of chocolate just above her mouth.

He'd stood there looking at her without a word until her slow tears became a whimpering sob, and he took a step forward to catch her in a belated embrace. Bridget's arms circled around him and clung tightly as he rubbed her back and whispered muffled apologies into her hair.

"I'm sorry, Bridge. You just…you caught me off guard, darling."

"Caught you off guard?" She sniffled, laughing ironically, "Imagine my surprise six months ago."

As Jonathan was rolling his eyes he felt her grip tighten and frowned slightly. He pulled back a bit, reaching a hand to her cheek to smudge away tears, "Other than my being a grumpy bugger, are you all right?"

The woman nodded her head, swallowing the lump in her throat, though it hardly did any good. The tears returned nevertheless and she had to look away from him to avoid making matters even worse, "I just didn't know if you were going to come back."

For reasons beyond his immediate knowledge, along with the tugging at his heartstrings that Bridget's sentiment automatically inspired, it also brought back a sudden flashback of the whole reason he'd left her to begin with: the dig. More importantly, it brought back the findings in the dig, the curse that Evie had mentioned, of Prince Menes and something about a child….

"Jonathan?"

Bridget's voice snapped him out of it and he looked down at her with wide eyes, "Err, what?"

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, she tilted her head to the side, "What is it? What are you thinking?"

Jonathan swallowed- Christ, why had his mouth suddenly gone so dry? He smiled weakly at her, taking her hand suddenly and starting for the bedroom. "I have an idea."

"What? Jonathan you're scaring me."'

It didn't take long to locate his spare suitcase, and only briefly blinking in surprise at the way Bridget had taken over his bedroom, he began filling the suitcase with her things. While he bustled about, Bridget sat down with worried eyes on the bed, watching him apprehensively.

All right, so this was not exactly how she'd envisioned his homecoming. Somehow even though she knew Jonathan through and through, knew his quirks, knew his fears, knew that he probably wouldn't be nearly as excited about fatherhood as she would've liked him to be- Bridget had pictured something maybe just a little more picturesque for their reunion. She'd hoped that he would've by now said something along the lines of 'Although this is a big shock I am ever so happy for us!' or at least a roundabout 'I love you' in the usual Jonathan way.

But no.

Just to Bridget's luck, instead of sweeping her into his arms and giving her lips the workout they'd been denied the past few months, Jonathan was packing.

Why was he packing?

She gasped loudly, covering her mouth.

Jonathan nearly fell over with surprise. He waved his hands around and stared at her in shock, "What what what?"

Her eyes welled up with tears.

Her voice cracked.

Her nose ran.

And she hissed through her covered mouth, "Are you tossing me out?"