Neither of them have gotten the hang of things. I don't a parent ever really does


Cid's hands were warm on the soles of Shera's feet. He thanked whatever god above that the both of them lived alone. Cid had received massages before, but he'd never really…administered them himself. When he first grudgingly offered his poor Shera to place her legs in his lap, it was awkward. The whole 'urge to pamper' thing was quite unlike him. Anything for his pregnant wife.

"If we have permission, we can start saving right away. We can pile gil here and there into the savings account at the bank, and I estimate we'll have enough funds for renovations in the next three years. That's not pushing time, is it?" Shera had been quietly rambling. Hands on her bloated stomach, she laid back at a relaxed angle on the couch. She sighed every now and again from tiredness and the attention Cid gave her swollen ankles.

"That'll be enough time." He resisted the urge to scratch at the nicotine patch on his upper arm, and took Shera's other leg in his calloused palms. He paused for a moment when Shera absentmindedly curled her toes. It was a fleeting thought: Shera paints her toes? It was apparent he was typically nowhere near her feet to ever pay attention. How the hell did she even reach them? Woman could hardly put her boots on in the morning.

"It's settled then." Shera yawned and pushed herself into a more upright position. Her lower back began to ache from being in the same state for a while. "If we have any left over this week, I'll place it in the account to get us started." She stifled a laugh when Cid's touch began to tickle. "Thank you." Shera removed one of her legs from the top of his thighs. "It feels much better." Very slowly, she maneuvered herself from her seat and onto her feet. Shera took a cooled and emptied tea set from the top of the coffee table in the living room, and paced to the kitchen to have it washed and put away.

Cid yawned after she had moved, and licked the spare sugar from the edge of his lips. He watched Shera when she returned a short moment later. There she was, pacing again. Always pacing; especially late at night. He didn't want to say it bothered him; he was just never given an explanation of the habit. It often appeared to rob her of sleep.

"Shera, I just rubbed yer' dogs. Why are you on em' again?" Cid began to crave something in his mouth, and looked around for anything to chew on. He had run out of tooth picks, and wasn't in the mood for the saltiness of sunflower seeds. Cid methodically reached for the left side of the goggles around his head, only to remember what he was looking for wasn't there.

Shera inquisitively pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose and paused. She placed her hands at either side of her back before answering. "I have to walk to rock them. If someone's awake and moving around, quickening I think it's called, it means I've been still for too long."

"What!? They're movin' already and you didn't tell me? Are they moving now?!" Craving forgotten, Cid poised himself to spring up from the couch.

"No, sorry." Shera chuckled and grinned at his spurt of enthusiasm. "I'll let you feel if they move again." Which reminded her.

"You'd better! I wanna know what's goin' on in there." Cid slumped back in his seat again and chewed on the inside of his cheek. By the look on her face, Shera was going to continue the small conversation on a related topic.

"I had another appointment today. They wanted to know what I plan to do when it gets down to the birth date."

"What'd you tell em'?"

"They explained that it's likely that not all of them will be turned in the proper position when it's time for me to give birth." Shera's eyes fell to the floor; she was trying to recall more of what she was told. "I could begin labor on my own, or I could choose to have a C-section. " She knew she'd probably have to explain to Cid what exactly her choice was, but she also knew he wouldn't like it. From what Shera gathered, it seemed like the safest option.

"What'd you choose?!" Cid was still waiting for her to get to the point. He wasn't going to like it…was he?

"I told them I'd like a C-section." Shera was pacing again. Her tone drifted in and out with the distracting back and forth tilting of her head.

"What is that, Shera? Stop beatin' around the bush." He was a pilot, not a damn doctor.

"They'll…essentially cut my stomach open to safely remove them." It even sounded gruesome when she chose her words carefully.

Cid looked horrified. "Ain't nobody cuttin' open my goddamn wife! They're babies not tumors!"

"Cid, I promise there's a perfectly good reason!" Shera trotted around the couch and placed her hands on his shoulders. She gently squeezed. "It's safer than trying to push them all here myself." She knew better than to ramble into the details again. "The doctor can tell you more about it if you'll go with me on my visit next week."

"Shera, darlin' , I don't want em' to mess up and hurt you." Cid tilted his head back against the edge of the couch, and his eyes met hers.

"I know you don't. We'll both have to have some faith." A gentle kiss was placed at the scrunched space between his eyes. Shera granted another to the bridge of his nose. Soft, steady hands moved from his shoulders to rub the sides of Cid's neck. "I do have much better news from my visit, though. Would you like me to tell you?" Shera's bangs tickled Cid's cheeks.

"If it ain't goin' to give me a heart attack, yeah. Gimme a report."

"Three girls with three strong heart beats, Captain."

"That's some damn good news…" A thoughtful smile tugged at the corners of Cid's mouth and crinkled the edges of his eyes. "We're gonna need to work on some names, Mama."