Oh you wonderful audience, you!
Your feedback has been so awesomely appreciated. It's so nice to know you've stuck it out with me here. And your reactions to the last chapter were totally unexpected. I thought you'd want me drawn and quartered for even considering taking our Sultan of Snark down such a road.
So fear not, gentle reader, I've heard your plea. It would be a pleasure to share a bit more. Consider me booked for an extended engagement.
He couldn't breathe. Her words, pushed from her lips so reluctantly, had chased all the air from the room. Or was it the absolute distress in those clouded green eyes? Or the fact that her condition was progressed at least to the point of physically wracking her body?
Pregnant?
No, she can't be pregnant. We never said we were trying to have a baby.
A baby?
No. We never even mentioned kids, let alone discussed actually conceiving one.
She can't be.
We never said we would, so obviously, we couldn't have. Therefore, she isn't...
Pregnant?
He had to sit down.
He crossed the room to the sink. Leaned his weight heavily against the marble surface. His hand knocked something into the sink with a rattle of plastic. He picked it up. Little pink plus sign. He stared.
Still on the floor, Erin pulled her knees up under her chin, watching him. He was stunned, robotic. His face had been stripped away and she could see the thought process it hid. The vain struggle to outreason a force that could not be reasoned with. A mirror of her own denial, her own desperate need to refute that things were changing too fast. She watched him lean against the counter, pick up the small plastic stick she had used to read her future. A million words danced across the back of her throat - rationalizations, reassurances - all too elusive for her to vocalize. So she waited.
Would there be reserves of fury? "Goddamit, Windsor, how could you let this happen?" "Couldn't you have been more careful?" "What the hell do we do now?"
Would there be understanding compassion? "We'll figure something out." "We're in this together." "Don't worry."
He pushed his weight away from the sink. Walked over to the wall next to her, leaned, slid down. His left shoulder brushed her right, he pulled his knees up in the same fashion as hers, propping his arms on them. He still held the test stick loosely in his hands, still stared at it intently.
They sat that way for the better part of an hour, neither speaking, both barely breathing. Neither made any move to touch the other. Erin's stomach hitched once or twice, nothing she couldn't control. If Robert noticed, he gave no sign. And just when she thought she'd go out of her mind, he let go of the wand, letting it fall to the floor. He moved towards her, pushing her knees, straightening her legs on the floor in front of her. He pressed his right hand against her stomach...
And lowered his head to her lap.
Tears leapt to her eyes and fell on his face as he pushed up her shirt, tenderly kissed her navel. She bent over him, hugging his head awkwardly, giving in to the sobs that had been building inside her for nearly two weeks. Robert wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in the soft flesh before him, visualizing the tiny life on the other side of her skin. He lay in her embrace until he couldn't breathe, and then gently pulled away from her. He rose to his feet, offered her his hand. She slipped her fingers into his and stood on shaking legs. He took the washcloth from her hand and wiped her tear-stained face. He brushed back her tousled hair, caressed her cheek, and guided her mouth to his. Her arms slipped weakly around him as he parted her lips with his tongue. He brought his hips into contact with hers, once again marveling at the activity taking place inside her. She moved tenderly against him, encouraging his desire, which he was sure she could feel growing, and in more ways than one.
Somehow they made it to the bed.
Of all the reactions he could have given her, this was the one she least expected, the one she hadn't dared to hope for. Even as he bared her tummy and brushed it with his lips, her mind insisted on screaming out the fact the he had said absolutely nothing - that she should not draw too much reassurance from his actions. But now he was holding her in his arms, he was kissing her...
He was smiling at her.
A small smile, true. A smile that, if you didn't know Romano, could be mistaken as something else. But she had seen it enough to recognize its nuance, and it sent a rush of emotion through her - swirling relief, dazzling reassurance, blind happiness..
He moved against her, and another was added to the mix..desire.
She sank back into the inviting embrace of the mattress, his mouth working against hers tenderly. She pulled his tie away in a whisper of silk, slipped a button free from its hole, then another. He exhaled against her cheek as her hands parted fabric, found skin, plucked softly at hair. He shrugged the shirt from his shoulders and felt the jut of one hip rub against his bare torso. His mouth left hers and he slid down her body. He caught the hem of her shirt and pushed it up, baring luminous, toned skin. He pulled the material over her head, then returned his attention to her stomach. Her flesh twitched a bit, pulled away from the feather light touch of his lips as he kissed her. He brushed his fingertips over the rise just below her navel and she shivered. He lifted his face, found her gaze, and she was sinking into the inviting, luxurious pools of deep brown.
His weight covered her once more, warm and welcome, and he was pulling at her clothing and somehow it was whisked away... and his hands were in her hair and his mouth against her ear ...and she was clutching at his shoulders and he moved above her, within her.. his chest pressed against hers, and his pulse racing in time with the throbbing of her own..his hands beneath her back pressing her closer and closer until there was no he, no she, no two, only one...one body..one heart..one love..
After, they lay together in the dark. His arms around her waist, his head rested on her stomach. Her breathing had slowed and her skin had cooled, but an ember still burned between them. It changed the air, electrified it, and she was nervous, waiting for him to speak.
Eventually, he did.
"How far along, do you think?"
She calculated silently in her mind. "Probably around seven and a half, maybe eight weeks."
He was silent for a moment. Then she felt his lips curl slightly against her skin. "So, probably that one night after the storm."
She smiled as well, remembering. "Maybe. Or that one morning before M & M."
"No symptoms until the vomiting this afternoon?"
A loaded question if she'd ever heard one. "I guess, in hindsight, there were a few."
"Like skipping your period? Which was due when, by the way?"
She was frightened, annoyed. Wondering if he was spoiling for a confrontation. "Are we really going to discuss the technicalities here?"
He glanced up at her. "I was just wondering how long it took you to tell me. And what that might mean."
She sighed raggedly. "I didn't know for sure until tonight. You saw the test yourself. I didn't see any point in bringing it up until I was absolutely certain."
Another few beats of silence. Then, his voice, thick with meaning.
"I'm not really concerned with being politically correct."
No! Not Robert Romano!
But all humor aside, she couldn't fathom how his saying such was a good thing. Her chest tightened and she gave a mighty effort to keep the tension from her voice. "Uh-huh."
"I say what I think, what I feel." A sigh. "What I think is right."
Erin swallowed hard. "Mmm-hmm."
"I'm not going to change that now."
"Okay." Here it comes. She braced herself.
He lifted his head, looked into her eyes. "Please have it."
She didn't know what to say.
"I know you're the woman. I know it's your body, your decision. I know I shouldn't tell you what to do."
More tears. Note to self - Visine. "But Robert," she breathed softly, "it's your baby, too."
The word hung between them. Erin realized it was the first time it had been spoken at all.
His face was a little more serene, his voice had a touch more confidence.
"Please have it."
Your feedback has been so awesomely appreciated. It's so nice to know you've stuck it out with me here. And your reactions to the last chapter were totally unexpected. I thought you'd want me drawn and quartered for even considering taking our Sultan of Snark down such a road.
So fear not, gentle reader, I've heard your plea. It would be a pleasure to share a bit more. Consider me booked for an extended engagement.
He couldn't breathe. Her words, pushed from her lips so reluctantly, had chased all the air from the room. Or was it the absolute distress in those clouded green eyes? Or the fact that her condition was progressed at least to the point of physically wracking her body?
Pregnant?
No, she can't be pregnant. We never said we were trying to have a baby.
A baby?
No. We never even mentioned kids, let alone discussed actually conceiving one.
She can't be.
We never said we would, so obviously, we couldn't have. Therefore, she isn't...
Pregnant?
He had to sit down.
He crossed the room to the sink. Leaned his weight heavily against the marble surface. His hand knocked something into the sink with a rattle of plastic. He picked it up. Little pink plus sign. He stared.
Still on the floor, Erin pulled her knees up under her chin, watching him. He was stunned, robotic. His face had been stripped away and she could see the thought process it hid. The vain struggle to outreason a force that could not be reasoned with. A mirror of her own denial, her own desperate need to refute that things were changing too fast. She watched him lean against the counter, pick up the small plastic stick she had used to read her future. A million words danced across the back of her throat - rationalizations, reassurances - all too elusive for her to vocalize. So she waited.
Would there be reserves of fury? "Goddamit, Windsor, how could you let this happen?" "Couldn't you have been more careful?" "What the hell do we do now?"
Would there be understanding compassion? "We'll figure something out." "We're in this together." "Don't worry."
He pushed his weight away from the sink. Walked over to the wall next to her, leaned, slid down. His left shoulder brushed her right, he pulled his knees up in the same fashion as hers, propping his arms on them. He still held the test stick loosely in his hands, still stared at it intently.
They sat that way for the better part of an hour, neither speaking, both barely breathing. Neither made any move to touch the other. Erin's stomach hitched once or twice, nothing she couldn't control. If Robert noticed, he gave no sign. And just when she thought she'd go out of her mind, he let go of the wand, letting it fall to the floor. He moved towards her, pushing her knees, straightening her legs on the floor in front of her. He pressed his right hand against her stomach...
And lowered his head to her lap.
Tears leapt to her eyes and fell on his face as he pushed up her shirt, tenderly kissed her navel. She bent over him, hugging his head awkwardly, giving in to the sobs that had been building inside her for nearly two weeks. Robert wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in the soft flesh before him, visualizing the tiny life on the other side of her skin. He lay in her embrace until he couldn't breathe, and then gently pulled away from her. He rose to his feet, offered her his hand. She slipped her fingers into his and stood on shaking legs. He took the washcloth from her hand and wiped her tear-stained face. He brushed back her tousled hair, caressed her cheek, and guided her mouth to his. Her arms slipped weakly around him as he parted her lips with his tongue. He brought his hips into contact with hers, once again marveling at the activity taking place inside her. She moved tenderly against him, encouraging his desire, which he was sure she could feel growing, and in more ways than one.
Somehow they made it to the bed.
Of all the reactions he could have given her, this was the one she least expected, the one she hadn't dared to hope for. Even as he bared her tummy and brushed it with his lips, her mind insisted on screaming out the fact the he had said absolutely nothing - that she should not draw too much reassurance from his actions. But now he was holding her in his arms, he was kissing her...
He was smiling at her.
A small smile, true. A smile that, if you didn't know Romano, could be mistaken as something else. But she had seen it enough to recognize its nuance, and it sent a rush of emotion through her - swirling relief, dazzling reassurance, blind happiness..
He moved against her, and another was added to the mix..desire.
She sank back into the inviting embrace of the mattress, his mouth working against hers tenderly. She pulled his tie away in a whisper of silk, slipped a button free from its hole, then another. He exhaled against her cheek as her hands parted fabric, found skin, plucked softly at hair. He shrugged the shirt from his shoulders and felt the jut of one hip rub against his bare torso. His mouth left hers and he slid down her body. He caught the hem of her shirt and pushed it up, baring luminous, toned skin. He pulled the material over her head, then returned his attention to her stomach. Her flesh twitched a bit, pulled away from the feather light touch of his lips as he kissed her. He brushed his fingertips over the rise just below her navel and she shivered. He lifted his face, found her gaze, and she was sinking into the inviting, luxurious pools of deep brown.
His weight covered her once more, warm and welcome, and he was pulling at her clothing and somehow it was whisked away... and his hands were in her hair and his mouth against her ear ...and she was clutching at his shoulders and he moved above her, within her.. his chest pressed against hers, and his pulse racing in time with the throbbing of her own..his hands beneath her back pressing her closer and closer until there was no he, no she, no two, only one...one body..one heart..one love..
After, they lay together in the dark. His arms around her waist, his head rested on her stomach. Her breathing had slowed and her skin had cooled, but an ember still burned between them. It changed the air, electrified it, and she was nervous, waiting for him to speak.
Eventually, he did.
"How far along, do you think?"
She calculated silently in her mind. "Probably around seven and a half, maybe eight weeks."
He was silent for a moment. Then she felt his lips curl slightly against her skin. "So, probably that one night after the storm."
She smiled as well, remembering. "Maybe. Or that one morning before M & M."
"No symptoms until the vomiting this afternoon?"
A loaded question if she'd ever heard one. "I guess, in hindsight, there were a few."
"Like skipping your period? Which was due when, by the way?"
She was frightened, annoyed. Wondering if he was spoiling for a confrontation. "Are we really going to discuss the technicalities here?"
He glanced up at her. "I was just wondering how long it took you to tell me. And what that might mean."
She sighed raggedly. "I didn't know for sure until tonight. You saw the test yourself. I didn't see any point in bringing it up until I was absolutely certain."
Another few beats of silence. Then, his voice, thick with meaning.
"I'm not really concerned with being politically correct."
No! Not Robert Romano!
But all humor aside, she couldn't fathom how his saying such was a good thing. Her chest tightened and she gave a mighty effort to keep the tension from her voice. "Uh-huh."
"I say what I think, what I feel." A sigh. "What I think is right."
Erin swallowed hard. "Mmm-hmm."
"I'm not going to change that now."
"Okay." Here it comes. She braced herself.
He lifted his head, looked into her eyes. "Please have it."
She didn't know what to say.
"I know you're the woman. I know it's your body, your decision. I know I shouldn't tell you what to do."
More tears. Note to self - Visine. "But Robert," she breathed softly, "it's your baby, too."
The word hung between them. Erin realized it was the first time it had been spoken at all.
His face was a little more serene, his voice had a touch more confidence.
"Please have it."