His Little Bird

Winning the War

Birdie's POV:

I drag Ethan along behind us, his hand grasped tightly in mine.

"You said you wanted to come, come on." I tug at him, but he still drags his feet, keeping me back with him.

"You're going to trip. Slow down." Mom laughs and swats at Ethan's arm.

"You're worse than Charlie, Ethan. She's not going to trip," Mom informs him in a motherly tone.

"She could, Mama—"

"She isn't going to. You can wait a few more weeks to get all frazzled every time she gets up," Mom tells him, looping her arm through his.

"Wait a few weeks? For what?" Marisa questions curiously, looking between the three of us.

"For Birdie to be pregnant. She's not even pregnant yet, Ethan. If you keep up so strong she's going to end up biting your fingers off in your sleep or something by the end of her pregnancy.

"You have to learn to pick your battles, Ethan. Would you like to forfeit today, or have your fingers gnawed off in a couple months?" Mother questions him.

He avoids her pointed gaze, his grasp loosening on my hand just a bit.

Me and mother share a triumphant smile.

"She can gnaw my fingers off," he suddenly decides, tightening his grasp on my hand again.

"Ethan! You know they wasn't the right answer!" He smiles down at Mom, sliding his hand into hers to make her walk beside him too.

"She could be pregnant and even if she isn't I still don't want her to trip. To me it is more important to have her safe than have my fingers," Ethan argues with her calmly.

He's being dramatic, but I'm not one to really talk about other people being dramatic, having had my times before.

"Let me put it like this then, Ethan. Would you like to have an angry pregnant submissive, or would you like a someone reasonable one at the end of her pregnancy."

"I want a healthy and happy submissive—"

"Then you have to pick your battles. If you can't let her pick how fast she walks, how are you going to let her have some independence?" Mother questions him.

"She is..." he looks down at me, seeming slightly troubled. "She is okay. She doesn't need independence... Birdie likes spending time with me."

"I do, Ethan, but she is simply pointing out that if you're this overbearing over my whole pregnancy I'm going to end up killing you," I explain gently.

He just smiles, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "Birdie is an easy submissive, I'll just give her chocolate," Ethan chirps, smiling at Mom proudly.

Marisa sighs beside me, realizing that he hasn't quite got Mom's point yet.

"Ethan..." Mom says in a warning tone.

He shrinks a bit, his smile falling. "My Little Bird is happy... I will continue to make sure she stays that way... Do you not like me being here?" Ethan asks carefully, avoiding mother's gaze.

"No, of course not, Ethan. I love that you come shopping with us. I love to spend time with my children, but have you noticed the concerned looks people are giving you when you stalk Birdie around the store—"

"She said she didn't want me over her shoulder," Ethan complains.

"Yes well... following her around a few feet away makes you look like a crazy person, Ethan. I just want you to relax. She is fine," Mom assures him.