Dubious Procedure
The Month


We woke up hours later than usual, lazily stretching and holding each other close, until it dawned within our minds: "Leon, you did not run for the bathroom at dawn," I whispered, pleased and shocked at the same time.

And so was my detective. "Wow," he uttered simply, hugging me tighter as relief washed through him, expected for a long time and very welcome. Even the small sparkle of life our child was felt calmer. "Talk about a miracle, D." Indeed, a miracle, after nearly a month of the early curse that rose us without missing a beat. "Think it's because of what your dad did to me?"

"I do not know, Leon," I sighed, a smile on my lips. "We would need to ask him," I suggested, my tone purposefully leveled to conceal that I wished to remain in bed with him a while longer, and worry about it later.

He got the message, though my mood did not pass through. "Hell, I want to nap for another while, too," he said, shifting under the covers with me on his arms until he was comfortable enough to fall asleep once more.

I was left to deal with my desire for my lover in the slowly advancing and relatively silent morning, Leon snoring by my ear.


"It was the surgery," my father told me as he brought a tray with our breakfast to my room, while my detective took a shower. "The hormones should have the opposite effect on him. Eventually."

So this peace was not to last? "Leon will not be happy to hear that," I whispered, leaning against the closed doors, watching my father settle down the tray on a small table.

"You do not need to tell him. He can discover it on his own, I assure you." The smirk on his lips said he wanted that to happen…

I frowned. "I cannot let him be in the dark of his own situation like that, father." He served tea, feigning he was ignoring my words. "And I have another question, regarding the hormone treatment you are giving him." To that, his violet eyes sparkled with his typical mischief, and I shuddered involuntarily. "How much will he change?" I asked worriedly after a minute of silence.

"Just the necessary for the child to develop properly, during and after the pregnancy," my father sighed. "Yet, considering he is bearing a hybrid of human and our kin, unexpected changes may occur…" he trailed off, glancing meaningfully at me while mixing two sugar spoonfuls in Leon's teacup.

"He does not like sugar in his tea," I said nearly automatically, as the door to the bathroom opened.

Leon emerged, momentarily seeming startled at seeing my father in our bedroom, forgetting he was only wearing a towel. The appreciative look my father gave him killed my own, as I glared at him, crossing my arms as my detective paled and hurried back into the bathroom. "Damn it, D, warn me when you dad's here!" he yelled through the locked door.

"Father, stop looking at my lover as if you wished you could eat him!" I hissed in Chinese, as I opened the bedroom's door and silently demanded him to leave.

"Jealous, my son?" he replied in our native language, as he had once, when he had done the examination. He walked out with a satisfied smirk on his lips, and I was tempted to slam the door shut behind him.

Leon came out again, sighing in relief and going to wrap his bare arms around my waist. "You cussed him out?" he chuckled before he kissed my neck.

"I do not cuss."

"Then what was that angry Chinese I heard? It definitely didn't sound like thanks, or see you later." He let go, going over to the breakfast tray my father had left us. Taking his cup, he emptied it of the sugared tea without squirming or protesting, as he always did…


Once we were done with breakfast, the day seemed to stretch before us uneventfully and eternally. My own tasks were already being seen to: My child was being taken care of, and the animals could take care of themselves while the pet shop remained closed to all clients. And Leon had nothing to do: Not only was he on extended leave from the police department, much to my relief, but…

"Orcot, do not move a finger!" my father called as my lover proceeded to take our breakfast tray to the kitchen.

"What? Why?" Leon growled, stopping regardless.

My father rose quickly to his feet and hurried over to leave my son on my arms, before he walked over to my detective, yanking the tray from his grasp. "You are pregnant," my father said unhelpfully, as we already knew. "And, as I said yester night, we need to change your daily activity habits in order to properly prepare your body for the baby." With that, he headed for the kitchen, leaving Leon staring at his retreating back.

"Hell, what's with your dad?" he asked, more like voicing his thoughts than actually questioning me. Shrugging, he went to sit beside me. My son's violet eyes got fixed on him as soon as he did, a little frown on his pretty face.

After Leon commented on it, I laughed lightly, hugging my baby closer. "He seems to know you are bearing his half-sibling."

"He doesn't seem too happy with it," my lover chuckled, yet he suddenly appeared to be so far away. "His half-sibling…" His situation was dawning on him more fully, I sensed, both dreading and hoping for the result of his personal reflections. "How much longer?" he whispered.

"Eight months or so," replied my father, returning from the kitchen and fixing his sleeves, as if he had washed the dishes as well. "If we take care of you and the child properly, that should be the time until you give birth."

Leon stiffened, paling a little bit. "And how will that…?"

"We shall decide as you progress, whether naturally or surgically," my father interrupted, knowing my lover did not have the will to finish the question. "And, since we cannot know right now, Orcot, I advise you to relax," he told him with a smile.


During the whole following week, the nausea that ruined the mornings of my detective did not return, even when the hormone treatment continued. I had already put him on a warning by then, though, and he had not been happy, just like I had predicted, yet he proceeded to enjoy his peace for as long as it lasted. His rest was furthered by my father's order: Leon was not going to do a thing until after the first trimester, which meant he was practically locked in our room all day…

"I'm bored," he muttered sulkily, stretched over the bed in such way he occupied its whole surface. I sat beside him, carefully pushing aside some of his golden locks of hair. "You sure we can't have sex?"

"That is what my father advised," I sighed. "It would be too much, he said."

"Too much what?" my lover chuckled humorlessly, motioning for me to lie beside him, as he had also been forbidden to pull or push me for the same reason. "Too much fun he doesn't get to participate on?" he joked, caressing my cheek tenderly.

I frowned. "I do not wish to see it that way." It was better to think my father had done it for Leon and the child's well-being… "And too much activity, he said," I giggled.

"I'm not keeping my body shape that way; why should sex matter?" he mumbled, allowing me to settle against him. I knew he was going to take another nap, being as bored and inactive as he was. "Your dad's not even a doctor, anyway. He doesn't know… He's just experimenting… with us…" he yawned.

And he settled the doubt in my mind, as he once again fell asleep, snoring as loudly as he had made his custom to.


Hours later, I was heading for the kitchen, a sigh I let go trembling slightly: Leon had not slept well, rising as suddenly as if the bed was aflame, and running for the bathroom without explanation. It was not needed, though, as I heard the dreadful heaving on the other side of the closed door…

"How is your human, my dearest son?" my father asked when I came into the kitchen.

I saw my son sitting perilously close to the border of a counter, but I abstained from commenting on my father's methods of taking care of his grandchild, instead replying tonelessly: "The nausea came back. I will take him something…"

Before I could prepare one of the teas, though, my father grabbed my hand. "I have a personal remedy ready," he said, handing me a full teacup.

"What is it?" I inquired, not trusting his expression and voice.

"It will not hurt them," he replied simply, smirking.