"So, how're we gonna do this?"
"Say it and leg it?"
He laughed, "They're gonna want details."
"What...? The night of conception? The positions we were in?"
He smirked, "Well maybe not 'those' details, but, this is Hardison and Parker we we're talking about... They'll want to know when we're due... and how long we've known... and do we know the gender of the baby...?"
"How about we just text the whole message to them... and then disappear for a couple of days?" She simulated texting with her fingers. "Alec, Parker, Nate, We're pregnant. We're just shy of three months. We're due in March. Gender undetermined. We're going out of town for two days. Back in time for next con. Ta ta."
"They'd be on our trail before the text got cold."
She frowned and dropped her head onto Eliot's shoulder. "This is going to suck."
"You sound like Parker."
She snuggled closer and closed her eyes. "No need to be insulting."
He chuckled and lifted his arm, wrapping it around her shoulder so that she could lay more comfortably against him. "The 'just spit it out' plan is probably our best bet, and then we just need to be prepared to sit around for 20 minutes answering questions. And then," he hugged her closer, "we can sneak away from everyone and go get a drink." He paused, "Well, I can go get a drink... we'll get you some ice cream."
"I probably will need alcohol after sharing our news with them." She shifted and looked up at him... "Oooh, brilliant thought, Lee's Cream Liqueur... let's sneak away to Lee's... and I can have my ice cream and my liqueur too."
"One, Lee's is in Arizona. And two, no alcohol for you."
"Spoil sport."
"You're the one who wanted to get pregnant."
"Yes, well, you're the one who made it happen."
"Proudly takin' the blame for that." He lowered his head and brushed his lips against her forehead, "We can do this... we'll do the spit it out and run thing... and hey, we can even use your pregnancy as our escape ticket... 'Sorry guys: pregnancy..., tiring..., need to get home for a nap...'"
"You want to use our baby as a ploy?"
"Hell yeah."
She smiled against his chest, "I love the way you think."
(())
It wasn't as horrible as either she or Eliot had imagined. Of course, it wasn't as easy as they'd hoped either.
"Eliot and I have some news we'd like to share with all of you."
Hardison scooped up a spoonful of Parker's cereal (And really? They must be in love, because Parker didn't even grouse at him). "It's not about you two living together is it? Cuz we all know about that."
"No, it's not about our living arrangement."
Parker piped up, "Is it about a case?"
"No." Sophie looked at Eliot – confronted with a sudden inability to actually 'share' their news with the team.
He took the reins and kept it short and simple. "We're expectin'." He looked around the room, eying all of them until his gaze settled and remained on Nate's face.
"Expecting what?" Parker asked curiously.
Before Eliot or Sophie could respond, Hardison put the pieces together. Stumbling out of his seat he stared at Sophie, or more specifically, at her stomach.
His eyes opened wide and he swung his pointed finger at Eliot and Sophie, "Wait, wait, ya'll are 'expecting'?" He barreled ahead, "Like 'expecting' expecting? How the hell did that happen? No wait, don't answer that, I know how it happened, I don't need a blow by blow account. But, really, how the hell did that happen?" He turned to face Parker and Nate, "Are either of you as surprised as I am?"
Parker still sported a confused look on her face, and Nate, Nate wore a look on his face that could only be described as 'bittersweet'. For three solid seconds, his face was open and he wore that look that people get when they've tasted, heard, touched, or seen something that surprised/pleased/angered/soured/tickled/touched their senses. The look that said they didn't quite know if they were happy, sad, hot, cold, sweet or sour. A look that simply said they felt.
The bittersweet look was masked within seconds and if she and Eliot hadn't been watching him so intently they would have missed it.
With a smile painted on his face, Nate stood up took a few steps forward and held his hand out to Eliot to shake.
Eliot gave a small nod and extended his own hand; both men using their left hands to somewhat gingerly pat one another on the back.
Releasing Eliot's hand, Nate turned to Sophie and echoed his actions with Eliot. He extended his hand to her but when she reached for his hand, he didn't simply use his free hand to pat her on the back, he instead, pulled her into a hug. He held her, perhaps a little longer then necessary, before loudly offering a "Congratulations you two."
And finally, Sophie heard it in his voice; something that she'd spent so many years wanting to hear. Regret.
Oh, there was bluster, and faux/real happiness in his voice, but it was definitely tinged with regret. She'd spent longer than she cared to admit, wanting to hear Nate say he wanted her; needed her. She'd chased him, withdrawn from him, bared herself to him, protected herself from him – for years. All in hopes of drawing from him a declaration of love. Or barring that, a declaration of regret – missed opportunity. And now she had it.
She found it supremely funny, and completely anticlimactic that she had finally gotten what she wanted, and she felt... nothing. Nothing but a faint sense of closure. The kind of peace one feels when one has closed a door at the end of a long, cool night.
Nate didn't look at her when he released her; he didn't look at Eliot, or Hardison, or Parker. Instead he clapped and rubbed his hands together a few times before moving across the room to the kitchen. "We'll have to get in touch with Tara and see if she can lend a hand while you're out Sophie." He shrugged and opened the fridge, "Unless, of course, you'd all prefer to take a couple of months off while Sophie is out. We might be able to swing that." He pulled a beer out of the fridge. "And we'll have to have a party. We're not a traditional company, but every office has baby showers for its staff."
"Baby showers?!" Parker finally 'got' what everyone was talking about. "You're expecting!?" She hopped up from her chair and, much like Hardison had done, pointed wide eyed at Sophie's belly. "You're pregnant!" Her mouth dropped open and then she slammed it shut again. "And here I was thinking that you'd just gaining a little extra weight."
(())
"Standardly, I wouldn't do an ultrasound until after your twelfth week, but I'd like to do one for you today if you're comfortable with that." Sophie's OB Gyn typed a few notes into her laptop before looking up at Sophie and smiling.
The smile did nothing to stop Sophie's nervousness at hearing the request. "Now? Today?" Eliot wasn't with her, a last minute call from Nate to reconnoiter for their next con had him 200 miles away. Sophie peered at her doctor. Why was she asking her to take an ultrasound earlier than scheduled? Did she think something was wrong with the baby? "Are you suggesting an ultrasound based upon caprice, curiosity, or concern?"
Dr. Smythe gave another smile, "I'd label it 'curiosity'."
Sophie silently 'harrumphed'. 'Curiosity' could lean toward positive or negative reasoning. Realizing that not doing the ultrasound today would kill her, she nodded her head in reluctant agreement. "Fine, if you think it would be best."
"Wonderful, I'll get Trish to get you set up in the room down the hall, and I'll be with you in half a second."
(())
She turned off the bathroom light and padded into the bedroom. Eliot lay sprawled out on their bed, on top of the duvet and bed coverings, one of his hands on his abdomen, the other arm thrown over his eyes.
It had been a long couple of day for him: classes, back up for Hardison as he set up some of his 'toys' in their next mark's office, the reconnaissance job, his daily workout sessions, sharing their news with the team.
The man had earned his tiredness. Of course, he'd come home, cooked for her and grinned his horny little boy grin at her tonight indicating that he'd just be resting his eyes while she got ready for bed, but looking at him now... "Eliot?" She crept closer to the bed and peered down at him. "Eliot?" She kept her voice low. He was definitely out of it; her energizer-bunny-rabbit-of-a-man was asleep.
She stared at him, taking in the relaxed, softened edges of his features. She wanted to brush the strands of hair that were falling across his forehead back away from his face, but she was afraid she'd wake him if she touched him. And honestly, she didn't want to wake him. He needed the rest.
She quickly scanned his figure again and then let her eyes light back on his face. He was... lovely. Oh, he wasn't model good-looking, but he was definitely manly good-looking. Rugged, tough... and then there were those times when he was boyishly good-looking; a grin lighting his face, a sparkle in his eyes. And then there were times like this, when he was sleeping and so… at peace.
She reached up and turned off the lamp on his side of the bed before moving around to her side. Carefully pulling back the edge of the bed coverings, she lowered herself onto the bed... Eliot definitely needed his rest... for multiple reasons. The most immediate reason being that he'd had a long week; the secondary, long term reason was that they, the two of them, wouldn't be getting much rest for the next 18.5 years.
And Sophie had a third reason for being stealthy and not wanting to wake Eliot. She was hoping that eight hours of sleep might help her figure out how to share Dr. Smythe's news with him.
She turned on her side, curling up so that she was facing Eliot... looking at his sleeping figure. She inwardly shook her head as she thought about how wonderfully messed up things were. Eliot had been lassoed into impregnating her. He'd agreed to stay by her side through the pregnancy. He'd even agreed to help her raise their child after it was born. Yawning she wondered as she finally joined Eliot in his slumber, How the hell am I going to tell him he's having twins?
(())
In the end, she pretty much chickenshitted her way into delivering the information.
She woke up before he did and slipping from the bed, she grabbed a top, underwear and a pair of jeans and dashed into the bathroom. Within a few minutes she was dressed – her jeans held closed by a safety pin because, dammit, she refused to get maternity clothes when she was just hitting the twelve week mark – and she opened the bathroom door and peered out into the bathroom. He was still asleep.
Tiptoeing into the living room she rummaged through her purse, found what she was looking for and quickly headed into the kitchen. Five seconds late she was back in the living room, picking up her purse and the shoes she'd abandoned last night, and then she quietly left their apartment.
She sat in her car in the parking garage and grabbing her cell, she pulled up Eliot's cell number. She looked at her reflection in the rear-view mirror before gathering her limited/non-existent courage and beginning her text.
Know I told you appt went well, and it did, but got some news. We're having twins. She paused, how does one end this kind of text? She rolled her eyes at herself, 'normal people don't text this kind of information'.
With a sigh, she finished her text: Sonogram on fridge. - S.
She clicked the send button and pulling her seat belt on, she started the car and fled.
(())
It only took him 45 minutes to find her.
And she'd known he would find her... she'd thought she'd have closer to 2 hours before he found her, but she'd known he would find her.
She passed her hands nervously over her denim clad thighs before opening the door he'd been knocking at incessantly for the past half a minute.
He crowded her back into her apartment, his eyes scanning her figure as he closed the door behind him. "Okay, we have a new ground rule."
"I didn't - "
"Ground rule first." He moved closer to her, stepping in towards her until she moved backwards and her back was against the wall. "One – shit that has to do with our baby," he took a deep breath and blew it out, "our babies – Jesus Christ – you tell me that stuff right away. Tell me to my face. You don't keep it to yourself, not for three hours, not for twelve hours, not for a day. You tell me."
"I just - "
"'S'not up for debate Devereaux. Got it?"
She nodded her head.
"Alright." His frame loosened and he pressed against her lightly. "You're okay?"
She nodded her head.
"You sure?"
She nodded again.
He lifted his hands to her neck, his thumbs brushing her jaw, "Twins huh?"
She responded with faux confidence, "I've never really been one for doing things small."
He smiled, and pulling her head down a little bit, he tilted his chin up and kissed her on the forehead.