Title: Feeling Selfish
Description: Mpreg arc. I wrote this for Race's birthday, and it kept growing... and growing... Warning for MPreg, of course. Set in a world where time compression didn't end, and Squall's team failed in their battle against Ultimecia. Squall feels like he's been selfish.
Pairing: seifer/squall
Rating: PG
Word count: 1144
Notes: Drabbles/ficlets tend to be written at work, so they're not as lucid as some of my writing. They're also completely unbeta'd unless otherwise stated, please forgive this.





I was sat at the kitchen table, chopping mushrooms. Seifer was on the phone, talking to my dad. I’d already spoken to him and the kids and Seifer was checking details – We were going to be snowed in if it carried on like it was. The roads would be hell.

“Okay, dad, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Seifer ended the call and set the phone back in its cradle. He watched me as I carefully sliced the last mushroom and moved onto the onions. I’d been quiet, even by my standards all day – too many odd things to think of and enough twinges in my back and belly to mean it was time I think about a warm bath. I wasn’t due for another eight weeks or so and I knew the difference between birth pain and stiffness from spending too much time in bed. “Hmm?”

“Your dad just got the weather projections, looks like we’re in for a few more days of snow before it lets up. He thinks we should move out now, head into town in case we’re stuck here and you... You know.”

“I’m fine, we have enough food and fuel, right? And if anything does happen, you have Helios and Ifrit,” I gestured at him with my knife. “All the hotels will be full and if you think I’m going to stay in a shelter while I’m blimp boy, you’ve got another thing coming.

“Figured you’d say that,” he grinned and took my pile of prepared veggies but stopped when I made a face. “Squall?”

“Fuck, think she’s trying to break a rib in there,” I winced as the baby moved and kicked determinedly inside me. Seifer put the plate down again and put his hand on my belly.

“Calm down kiddo, your nursery isn’t even ready yet.” He grinned up at me. We’d spent so much time arguing about whether it was a boy or a girl that we still hadn’t finished the room. Eventually we’d settled on yellow and an alphabet theme, just like the one I’d chosen years before for Caden in Ultimecia’s castle. “Damn, gotta be a boy – feel that kick!”

I eyed him flatly. “I’ve been feeling it for months dumbass. Now cook for me and I may let you warm my feet later.”

“Anything for you, my love,” he laughed and started cooking. He realised that I’d cut so many mushrooms for a reason and made me a quick snack – cheese, mushrooms and onions on toast. “So, baby, curry or should I throw these in the slow cooker and make stew?”

“Curry, then make a stew for tomorrow so we can stay in bed. Can we skip the chicken tonight though?”

“Course,” he put the package back in the fridge and I finished my snack. I wanted to put the radio on but I didn’t want any distraction from this. Us. Seifer kept cooking, making inane comments, I responded quietly. Our house was out in the middle of nowhere and he’d already checked the back up generator, just in case. He was sure we’d be fine and was mostly talking to reassure himself, not that he’d admit it.

“You want to eat in here? Or we could go back to the study,” he looked at me and I was sure he was about to ask what I wanted to do but he surprised me. “Let’s eat in here, then I’ll clear up and we can go back up.”

I was so relieved that he’d finally gotten it into his head that I didn’t have to make every decision just because I was pregnant that I’d have said yes to trying to build a ladder to the moon. “Sure.”

“I’ll bring up the candles, we can put your radio on and listen to it in bed, okay?”

“I need a bath first, but yeah.”




After my bath, I climbed into my warmest and most comfortable pjs and came back to the study. He’d fetched more blankets and pillows, the fire was low and he added a little more wood as I watched. The room he’d lit with candles and the radio was playing happily in a corner.

“The announcer said there’s some sci-fi drama thing on next. Sounds pretty spooky, you want to listen?”

I looked around, at the ice and snow outside the window, at the flickering lights of the candles and the way he’d done all of this for me... and I had to beckon him closer so I could hold him and hide my face. When he realised I was sobbing – Hyne help me, the sooner I got over my hormones the better – he hugged me tight. “What’s wrong? What did I do?”

And that was a hell of a kick in the teeth. I’d been so awful and with drawn that he thought everything was his fault. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry... I’ve been so Selfish.”

It took him a moment to figure that out. “Baby, You’ve been pregnant. It’s nothing and I just want you and the baby *safe*. You’re allowed to be selfish – it means I get to take care of both of you and keep you comfortable.”

I couldn’t stop crying. Once I started it was hard to stop again – I bottled everything up for as long as I could, then something stupid like this would start me off and I’d wind up sobbing for ten or fifteen minutes. Seifer rocked me gently, his arms wrapped around me, one hand rubbing between my shoulder blades and trying to quiet me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered again, against his shoulder.

“Come on, bed,” Seifer kissed my hair and eased me, half a step at a time to the bed. He sat me down, kneeling down to put my socks on. I couldn’t even do that and I felt like a huge, useless lump – All I wanted to do was get this over with. “There. Legs in,” he commanded and I turned to slide my legs under the covers. Seifer slipped around to the other side and got into the bed, offering me his arm.

“I just feel so useless,” I murmured. He rolled his eyes and stroked my cheek.

“Dumbass. You’re carrying our son. You’re doing a lot more work than I am, so be selfish if that’s what you want to call it. Just make sure you’re okay until I can take over for a while. Now shh, the show’s starting.”

“You mean our daughter.” I dried my eyes, still feeling like a fool and snuggled against him. It was easier to let him hold me and work everything out in my head than it was to keep arguing – and I know he liked to hold me. The radio started playing the theme tune of the program he’d talked about and I knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it.
.

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