"No peeking."

"I wouldn't dream of it." She was smiling – a real smile, a genuine smile, the kind he'd missed over the past couple of months, the kind she was just beginning to show him again.

He kept his fingers firmly over her eyes as they shuffled down the hall towards the antechamber – the one he'd been busy turning into a nursery, the one she didn't know about yet. The one he was going to surprise her with, now that it was finally finished.

"Keep 'em closed." He waited until she squeezed her eyes tightly shut before twisting the knob and ushering her into the room. He switched the light on, satisfied with the results of a good two months of work.

She was biting her lower lip, practically quivering with excitement.

"Okay, you can open 'em."

He wanted to see her face when she saw how he'd worked for this, how much time he'd put into it, and how he'd managed to keep it a secret, a surprise just for her.

Her eyes opened, widening just a little in shock as she took in the fully-furnished nursery. Her smile faltered momentarily, then slid into that fake smile he'd seen so much of in recent months. Something was wrong.

"Wow," she said.

"Rikku?" Worried, he set his hands on her shoulders. He'd thought she would be happy – proud of him. Why wasn't she happy? "Is something wrong?"

"No! No, not at all." But still that fake smile lingered on her lips. She definitely wasn't happy. "It's great. Really. You…you must've worked really hard on this. I had no idea."

It was a beautiful room, painted in a soft pastel yellow with sea-green trim. He'd picked matching furniture – a beautifully carved crib, a dresser, a changing table, and a rocking-chair. There was a pile of stuffed animals in the corner, a toy box, and mobile hanging over the crib from which dangled little stars and crescent moons. Delicate lacy curtains shaded the window. He'd thought of everything. The room was perfect. But there was nothing of her in it. Nothing at all.

She knew she should be happy – he'd gone through a lot of trouble. She wanted to be happy. He'd obviously done it for her. The baby wouldn't care if it had matching furniture, or pretty curtains, or a plush green carpet. But Rikku had spent countless hours poring over baby magazines, carefully marking the things she liked so that she could bring it all to Gippal for his input later. She'd spent all that time imagining what their baby's room would look like, how they would decorate it together, how they would spend afternoons sticking up wallpaper or painting, hanging curtains and building furniture.

She had never once considered that he might take matters into his own hands, and now that he had, she was silently mourning all the things she wouldn't get to do in this room, with him.

"It's beautiful." She turned that fake smile on him, and tried her hardest to make it a real one. "Thank you. I love it."

And later, as she shoved all her magazines to the back of her sock drawer, she tried to convince herself that it wasn't a lie.

---

"She's not happy. I thought she would be happy, but she's not. I don't know what went wrong. Does she not like yellow? I always thought she liked yellow."

"Gippal, you're babbling." Yuna bounced Niya on her knee, trying to split her attention between her child and Gippal, who'd called via commsphere for some advice.

"She didn't like the nursery. I thought it looked nice. I thought it looked pretty. I worked hard on it. So why doesn't she like it? I thought it was such a great surprise." He scrubbed his face with his hands, looking completely baffled. Yuna felt sorry for him. Obviously the poor man had no idea how women thought.

"I'm sure she appreciates the gesture," Yuna said slowly. "But I'm equally sure that, given the choice, she would've wanted to do it with you. Preparing a baby's room is a special thing for a woman – there's even a word for it. Nesting."

He stared at her, uncomprehending. She rushed ahead.

"She probably had some ideas of her own for the baby's room, and she probably wanted to help decorate. Maybe she's a little sad about it. She's not mad at you. She's probably happy you took such an interest in it. I wouldn't worry too much about it." Yuna grimaced, but Gippal wasn't sure if it was because she was lying, or because Niya had yanked a handful of her hair.

"So, what should I do?"

"Nothing. There's nothing to do, really. You might cook her dinner, or something. Speaking of it, I've got to get going. Niya's hungry and Tidus could burn water." She rolled her eyes. "See you. Call again if you need anything."

The commsphere disconnected and went dark. Gippal ran his hands through his hair. Probably Yuna was right. Besides, Rikku had probably gotten over it already. It wasn't such a big thing, after all.

But he'd make her dinner, anyway. He considered what he should make as he climbed the stairs with a basket of laundry. Pasta sauce made her nauseous. They'd had chicken the night before. In his ridiculously limited culinary repertoire, that left hamburgers.

He folded up a pair of her socks and opened her sock drawer, wondering if he'd have to make a run to the market. Some papers at the back caught his eye. He set down the socks and reached for the bundle at the back of the drawer.

Not papers. Magazines. Baby magazines. He flipped through one. She'd gone through it with different colored pens, circling the things she liked, writing notes in the margins, tagging ideas for decorations and color swatches. Rikku, so flighty and impetuous, had been so organized in this. Obviously she'd spent lots of time going through them.

He reached for the next magazine. It, too, was filled with detailed notes. And her favorite things were highlighted, with the memo 'show to Gippal' scrawled beneath them in red pen.

Obviously Yuna was right. She had wanted to do it with him. She'd had her own ideas, ideas she'd wanted to share with him. Ideas that were now crumpled up and shoved in the back of a drawer.

"I'm sorry."

He jerked, turning towards the doorway, where Rikku stood silhouetted. She bit her lip, hesitantly moving towards him. She gathered up the magazines he'd placed on the bed, and gently pried away the one he still held.

"I was…I should have thrown them out." She folded them up, setting the aside. "I meant to, but…"

He knew. She meant to, but she hadn't wanted to throw away something so precious to her, something she'd spent so much time on.

"I…really messed up, didn't I?" He already knew the answer.

"No! Oh, no, of course not." She slid her arms around his neck in a loose embrace. "It's wonderful, really. I never imagined…"

"We can fix it." He wanted to make it better, to make it right, to put in the things that she'd wanted. "We can change it. There's time." His arms wrapped around her comfortingly. Yuna was right – she was sad, and she was trying to salvage his pride, trying to be appreciative of him and his efforts to act like an expectant father should.

"You don't have to…" she faltered. "It's…it's beautiful how it is. Really. Any kid would be lucky to –"

He covered her mouth with one hand and scooped up the magazines with the other. "I wanted to make you happy," he said.

"You did," she said, shaking off his hand. "You do."

"I did not," he responded. "I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to, but I did." He brushed the hair back from her face. "So we'll fix it. Together." He plopped the stack of magazines in his hand down on top of her head. She grabbed for them, wide-eyed.

"Come on." He grabbed her free hand. "I'll make hamburgers, and you can show me what things you like."

"Really…?" He was already tugging her out of the room and down the stairs.

"Yeah. Sit." He urged her down in a chair as soon as the entered the kitchen. He rummaged through the refrigerator, searching for the ingredients he'd need. "You talk. I'm listening."

He went to work defrosting some hamburger meat, and chopping some vegetables. Rikku was crazy for onions now that she was pregnant, so he knew that she'd want plenty of them on her burger.

"Okay, but you're gonna think it's stupid."

"Try me." He set a skillet on the stove to heat and started chopping tomatoes.

"Well, I was thinking we could paint the ceiling blue, like the sky, you know? With white clouds and a big yellow sun in one corner. And maybe since there's green already, we could paint some grass on the walls." She stroked the curve of her belly, rising to sidle up beside him to watch him start forming the hamburger patties. "And you know, if it's a girl, later we could add flowers. So what do you think?"

"I think it's stupid." He laughed as she took a swing at him, wrapping his arms around her. "Just kidding. We'll pick up some paint tomorrow, in Luca. We can go and pick out some clothes and sheets and stuff, too. How about that?"

"I think you're fantastic." She grinned, popping a piece of onion in her mouth. He made a face.

"At least wait until there's something to put it on. Raw onions are gross."

"Are not." She grabbed a few more chunks to nibble on.

"Are too." He tossed two patties in the skillet, watching them sizzle.

"Want a kiss?" she asked as she chomped away on her pieces of onion. He looked scandalized.

"Not when you've just eaten a bunch of onions. Have a mint or something first, at least."

She advanced on him with a decidedly predatory gleam in her eyes. He backed away, brandishing the spatula so as to ward her off. It didn't work – she lunged. He'd never thought a pregnant woman could move as fast as she did, but Rikku continually surprised him. She locked her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. She tasted just a little spicy, like the onions she'd eaten, but mostly she just tasted like Rikku, sweet and soft and warm. And he could feel her belly pressing against his.

He set the spatula on the counter, and wrapped his arms around her waist. His hips nudged hers, and their lips parts when she gasped. For a moment she looked incredulous, not just surprised, but actually shocked that he was aroused.

"You don't…you can't want to…to…" Her eyebrows had practically disappeared into her hairline as she stumbled over her exclamation of disbelief.

"Why not?" His palm curved over her rear, holding her a little closer, letting her feel him.

"Well, I'm pregnant," she spluttered.

"Yeah. It's sexy." His lips touched her ear, and his teeth tugged her earlobe. She was rapidly forgetting her arguments.

"Pregnant is not sexy. I look like a whale."

"A very sexy whale." He nibbled her lower lip. And, oh, god, being pregnant had made all her hormones go haywire and had fired her libido to a crazy degree. By sheer force of will she managed to keep herself from jerking his pants to his ankles and pushing him down on the kitchen floor.

"The…the hamburgers…" she stammered helplessly, hoping to distract him. It worked.

"Shit!" He abandoned her for the smoking skillet, flipping the burgers just in time to avoid calling them a total loss. "I hope you like 'em blackened." He glared at her.

"That was not my fault!" She shot back.

"You jump me looking like that an expect me to be concentrating on food? How is it not your fault?" He slid the burgers onto buns, tossed a healthy handful of onions on hers, and handed the plate to her. She sat down, still miffed at him blaming her for the near-ruin of their dinner.

She glanced up at him. He pointed his fork at her.

"You keep looking at me that way, and I won't be responsible for what happens," he said. "But I guarantee you, by the time I'm done with you, neither of us will care very much what's become of dinner."

She slapped her palms to her burning cheeks. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Don't worry," he said wickedly as he polished off his burger. "You can't get more pregnant."

And with the way he was looking at her, she decided that was probably a good thing.