Word Count: 451

First comes cooking. Dean arrives home from work with takeaway boxes in his hands and a growling stomach. His wife rounds on him, eyes narrowing when she sees that he has brought dinner home.

"I am cooking for you!" Gabrielle says with a huff. "It is spaghetti and meatballs! Your favorite."

Dean hesitates. He loves his wife, but she doesn't have a domestic bone in her body. Being forced to take time off from work because of her pregnancy must have really driven her absolutely mad. "Ah. I didn't know you knew how to cook," he says.

She smiles brightly. "I don't!"

Cautiously, Dean moves closer. The pasta has been boiled to the point that a sludge has formed in the water, and the noodles have clumped together, forming one giant block of spaghetti.

He forces a smile because he would never hurt her feelings. "It looks delicious, honey."

…

Her attempts at pottery aren't much better. When Dean comes down for breakfast (cereal and milk, because they both ended up with food poisoning after the spaghetti nightmare) there is clay splattering the walls. Gabrielle's pale arms are covered in a layer of grey-brown.

"I think you're supposed to use a drop cloth," he suggests.

"I know what I'm doing!"

He thinks that she really doesn't, but he knows better than to argue. Gabrielle is small, but she is fiery. Sometimes it's best to just let her do her own thing.

…

She's been attempting to knit for a solid hour, but all that she has managed is to tangle the violet yarn into a nasty knot around the gold knitting needles.

"Why are you so determined to find a new hobby?" he asks curiously.

Gabrielle lets out a frustrated groan. "Because I am bored, and I am miserable, and I worry that I am going to lose my mind!"

He softens. It makes sense. Dean can't remember ever seeing Gabrielle stuck like this. She has always been so active, so full of life. He imagines would be just as bored, just as restless in her position.

"Hey." He wraps an arm around his wife, pulling her gently against him and kissing her cheek. "We're going to figure it out."

…

Dean stands in the doorway of the dance class, watching with a smile on his lips. Gabrielle stands among other pregnant women, dancing along to the music. She looks absolutely beautiful as she moves this way and that, easily nailing each move.

It has taken them a month, but Gabrielle has found her creative outlet. As she moves, she smiles, and he can see the absolute joy in her eyes.

Gabrielle has found her passion, and Dean couldn't be happier.