Chapter Eleven: Flying By and Standing Still
In the first week of her second trimester, Allison felt like a new woman. As if the end of her first three months had caused a hormonal renaissance, Allison's morning sickness had evaporated. Of course, the ability to keep her meals down had also caused a frightening increase in her weight, but soon even that came under control. Now, with the ever growing expanse of her belly, however, Allison was getting an onslaught of unwanted belly rubs.
This development managed to piss her off more than the constant fussings of, "how are you feeling today?"
Luckily, that wonderful hubby of hers managed to fend off most of the detested tummy touches with a well aimed glare. Although, with mild amusement, Allison realized that Greg's hand rarely left her stomach when they were together. As they walked side by side in and out of the hospital or down a hall, his arm would constantly be around her waist, a well placed hand splayed out over the bulge of her tummy. It was sweet, and reassuring. Somehow, even encouraging.
Adding to the insanity of their lives, Greg and Allison had agreed on an architect by the name of Roark. He was a, mostly, freelance architect who they both loved the work of. When they had agreed on Roark's blueprints, and a contractor was found, they confirmed the breaking of the ground on their new lot would take place the following Monday.
Floating around the hospital like a large butterfly, Allison ran her hand over her tummy with a wistful smile. Life was turning up finally, after months of fears and nausea. Now, she felt content and at ease, and she owed it all to...
Allison sighed as she came upon her husband's office and found him asleep on the sofa. Shaking her head, Allison went into the office and leaned over to kiss his forehead. His hand lay gently on the floor beside the couch, his arm hung over the sofa's edge; a sure sign that he'd come into his office and merely collapsed.
With a soft hum on her lips, Allison went to the balcony and leaned against the railing. Winter was beginning to taper off, and the cool rail felt welcoming. Sighing, Allison looked down at the street below. A couple of staff members were sitting at the loading station, smoking cigarettes and attempting to relax on their break. Above her the sky was a gentle blue with few clouds, another welcoming addition to the day, for the the past week had been overcast and gloomy. Allison wasn't sure if it was the weather, or just a balancing in her mood, but she felt wonderful. It felt as if she couldn't be happier and if she was, her heart would burst.
Puzzling as it was, Allison chose not to discern the origins of her feelings. If she questioned it, she would find a silly reason to bring herself down.
"I know it's warmer than usual," Allison jumped at her husband's voice, "but it's not a good idea to be out here without a coat." Greg reminded his wife, wrapping an arm around her and tugging her back indoors.
"I thought you were asleep." She admitted as they went inside.
"Just a nap." Greg flopped onto the couch he'd fallen asleep on. At her dazed look he asked, "What?"
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"I'll call the papers."
"Shut it." She flopped onto the couch next to him. "I can't wait to see the house when it's finished." Allison sighed, dropping her head onto his shoulder. "Oh, I almost forgot!" She jerked her head upward with realization. "I came up here to tell you that Cuddy wants to see you in the clinic."
"When doesn't she want to see me in the clinic?"
"No, she's got a batch of interns showing up in ten minutes...Well..." She looked at her watch, "I guess they're here by now."
"And this means what to me?"
"Henderson broke his wrist yesterday in the ER when a patient bludgeoned him with a nearby tray." She explained.
"How did I miss that bit of excitement?"
"You were sleeping on the couch."
"Oh yeah."
"Anyway, he's not going to be back until tomorrow and Lisa couldn't delay the program. She needs you to fill in just for today." She assured. "I'd do it, but I still have-"
"Paperwork, paperwork." Greg nodded before a look of total mayhem consumed his features, "Can you do me one little favor before you get to your own work?"
Allison looked at him slyly, "What?"
"Walk passed the third exam room in the clinic in," he appeared to do a quick calculation, "fifteen minutes... Starting... NOW!" He lept up and ran out the door.
Lisa seemed surprised when Greg actually appeared in the clinic in a timely manner.
"Everyone!" Cuddy addressed the small congregation, "This is your supervisor today." She immediately ran away, to observe from a distance to see if her prized doctor would deliberately harm them.
"Good morning." Greg put on a faux, cheery face, lulling the five interns into a false sense of security, "I am Dr. House, this hospital's resident egotistical doctor with a God complex." With that their hopes were shot down, "And as your God I have my own list of commandments." He gestured for them to follow him as he headed towards the clinic. "Commandment number one. I am your God, thou shalt not give credit to Him," he gestured upward, "unless by Him, you mean Me." There was a tremor of giggles, which he glared at. Seeing his wife approaching, he quickly continued, "Commandment two. Thou shalt not rub Dr. House's belly." Another shimmer of laughs, "And commandment three. Thou shalt not ask Dr. House how she is feeling today." The laughter stopped at the word "she". Wrapping an arm around his wife's waist he continued, "This is Dr. House." He pointed at his wife, "Do not touch." He glared at the guys, "This is also the property of the Dr. Houses." He pointed at his wife's growing belly, "Do not touch this either." This time he glared at the two female interns, "Are these commandments understood?" Everyone nodded, "Anything to add, Dr. House?" He asked his wife.
"Second trimester. Triplets. Don't ask me how I feel. That is all you need know." Allison confirmed. Then with a sense of finality, she added, "And we are totally serious."
Greg flopped onto the bed that he shared with his wife, Kane curling up next to him as he took a moment to catch his breath. Allison had gone grocery shopping, leaving him behind to rest. Now, it was just him, the dog, and a flask full of bourbon. He was exhausted, and the signs were starting to show. Even Kane had noticed as she rested her head on the taut muscles of his back. He felt and heard the dog let out a long sigh as if to express that she understood how he felt.
Turning onto his back, Greg let Kane drop her head onto his stomach once he'd changed positions. Twisting to grab the flask that Allison had given him for their first Christmas as a couple, he took a long swig and then flopped once more against his pillow. It seemed like his feet were stuck to fly paper and the world was spinning around him in double time. There were so many things to do, so many plans to make, and he felt like he'd failed at them all already. He didn't like planning, he didn't believe in plans, and now his lack of looking ahead had bit him on the ass once again. Why hadn't he considered what they would do if Allison got pregnant?
"That's an easy one," Greg took another sip from his flask, answering his own question with a hint of bitterness, "she was on birth control, and we put way too much stock in it."
The fact that he was a doctor, and knew for a fact that the pill wasn't a 100 percent answer, just managed to piss him off more, because it meant that, once again, he had neglected to face reality.
"You're going to be all right with three little genetic splices running around, right?" He asked the dog uncertainly.
Kane let out another groan that could either mean that she'd "deal with it", or that she was getting annoyed with his rhetorical questioning.
"I just feel like I'm letting her down." Greg scratched Kane's head with his flask free hand. "I just don't know what I should be doing."
Kane looked at him and wagged her tail.
"Does that mean that I'm doing everything that I can?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow, and she licked his hand with the flask, "Or does it mean that you need to get shit-faced too?"
When Allison arrived home, she found her husband passed out on the bed, feet hanging off of the edge, an empty flask discarded on the floor, and Kane asleep on top of him.
With a soft smile, Allison went over and picked up the flask, giving it a shake. It was empty. Shaking her head, she went to the bathroom and rinsed it out before drying it and returning the container to its usual hiding place in her husband's sock drawer. When she was finished with that, she went over and took Greg's shoes off of him, giving Kane a quick pat on the rear so that she'd get off the bed. Next, she managed to slide his body up the bed and pull the blankets up from under him to wrap around his sleeping form. As an after thought, she reached under the comforter and undid his belt, giving it a swift yank and pulling it from his pants. Tossing it aside, she went and made herself dinner, and extra food just in case her husband woke up later and was hungry.
Allison did the dishes and all of the other mundane tasks that she'd piled upon her husband lately, and then finally went to get ready for bed herself. First she put away all of the groceries, then brushed her teeth and dressed for bed.
As she curled up along side her husband, it was with a guilty conscience that she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his throat gently. She knew that he was worn out, and she felt bad that she had been the leading factor in his fatigue. He'd been so great to her, taking care of her, and still managing to give her the space she needed and independence she craved.
If anyone ever called her husband an uncaring bastard ever again, she would smite them with all the power that she could muster. No one could compare to her husband, and she'd bitch slap anyone who said otherwise.
"I love you so much." She tried not to let her voice shake, or let the wild emotions she felt waver into her vocalization. "I just wish so much that I could do everything for you that you've been doing for me." Her head nuzzled against his chest, as her fingers tickled down his stomach. She wanted to give him everything that she could, wanted him to be able to relax too. Instead, she was the one napping on his couch, and ducking out of her office every twenty minutes. She even suspected that her husband had been moving some of her mountains of paperwork, because when she'd returned to her office after her cat nap on his sofa later that afternoon, she could tell that there was at least one less stack of folders.
Mind plagued, Allison slid back out of bed and went to the living room, picking up the laptop that had been left on the coffee table. Flicking it open, she began surfing aimlessly. She spent another hour looking at different sites, trying to quell her unusual bit of insomnia. When she'd grown bored with this, she snapped the laptop shut and sighed.
Leaning back against the sofa, Allison looked around the apartment. She stared at the piano. How long had it been since she'd heard him play? When was the last time she fell asleep to him at the piano, filtering his songs into her dreams. The instrument had accumulated a fine layer of dust, disturbing really, for it had been the only thing in the entire condo that had been kept under top care and maintenance while everything else accumulated clutter and dust bunnies.
Going over to the piano, Allison ran her fingers over the key cover, lifting it carefully. She saw her fingerprints left in the dust coating the cover. Annoyed, Allison retrieved a bottle of Pledge and a roll of paper towels. Cleaning the instrument, Allison felt a little better. Next, she cleaned the living room and the kitchen, then the bathrooms, and right when she was getting out the broom, she was interrupted.
"What are you doing?" Greg rubbed his eyes, having awoken to the clamber of Allison rustling about in the closet for the broom.
"Cleaning." She said simply, finding the broom at long last.
"Ally," his eyes were hooded as he squinted to see the clock, "baby, it's one in the morning."
Surprised, Allison looked at the clock and found that he was right. "I must have lost track of time!"
"I'll say." He took the broom from her hand and wrapped his free arm around her waist, "Come on, you need to get some sleep." Greg lead her to the bedroom.
"I'm not tired."
"You will be."
She registered defeat at that statement and let him lead her to the bedroom where Kane was lying on the bed looking annoyed. Together they curled under the covers and let Kane's body heat warm their toes.
"I miss hearing you play the piano." Allison said, turning onto her side to look at him.
"Oh?" He turned over to look at her through the darkness of the room.
"Yeah," she cuddled against him, wrapping her arms around his body, "and I miss a lot of other things."
"Like what?" He let his own arms encircle her.
She shrugged, "I don't know. It just feels like a lot of things changed after we got married." She confessed, "I'm not sure what they all are, but there's something different about us."
"Could it be that I'm not being a lazy ass and letting you do everything?" He asked teasingly.
"Maybe that could be part of it." She sighed, "I just wish I could wrap my brain around what I'm feeling."
"Maybe you're nesting." He teased, "Trying to get a slice of the Leave it to Beaver life. You playing the role of the doting wife and stay at home mom. Ally, you know you'll resent it after the first few months of being on maternity leave. You're not the stay at home type. You're the up in everyone's business trying to change the world type."
She smiled in amusement, "Yeah."
"You want to do everything 'cause you think you're a failure if you let someone help you."
"Preaching to the choir." She sing songed.
"Yeah." He agreed, "I keep feeling the same way. Like I'm letting you do all the hard stuff. Hell, I didn't even want to let you go grocery shopping by yourself!"
Laughing, Allison cuddled closer to him, "You're as defective as I am with the false reality of the single income household."
"How is it that the media has brainwashed us into thinking that we're letting down some stereotype?" Greg mumbled as he brushed his nose against her hair, "I think that's what to blame, Tv."
Allison snorted, "You'd never give it up, and you know it." She stuck her tongue out at him, managing to lick his chin in the process.
"Oh," Greg wiped her trail of saliva from his face, "that was sexy."
"Completely unintentional, I assure you."
"Well, if we're going to put up the pretense of the "good old days", does that mean we need separate twin beds?" Greg teased.
"Baby, we'd be pushing them back together every night."
"Not while you're pregnant." He smirked, "We haven't had sex in nearly a week."
"Maybe that's what's wrong with us." She sighed, "We're sex deprived."
"And now you're tired. I mention sex and you're ready to fall asleep. How's that for a bad omen?" Greg swatted her rear playfully.
"Fuck you." Allison hugged him closer.
"Fuck you too." Greg wrapped his arms around her tighter.
"In the morning." She yawned again and fell asleep.
"I'll hold you to that." He assured her as he began to lull into sleep as well. "Love you."
TBC
A/N- Thanks for waiting :D Review please-Andi