Game-Maker's Wrinkle

Plutarch and Roarrickk

She shifted angrily from one foot to the other as her wait continued. Plutarch was taking forever in the stupid rebel meeting and she really needed to talk to him.
She had just about given up hope when the doors opened and people started filing out of the war room. He exited last with a pale haired women with a permanent scowl.
"Plutarch we need to talk. NOW." Roarrickk kept her voice even despite her rising temper at seeing him walking almost hand in hand with the drab woman. Said women looked at her like she had grown a few more heads and was preaching the Capital's Bible.
"Mr. Heavensbee, who is this woman?" Dull , God everything about her is dull from her hair to her voice. She looked expectantly to Plutarch, foot tapping idly.
"That, Madame President, is my wife Roarrickk, the winner of the 66th annual Hunger Games, who is supposed to be in our room, but isn't for some reason." He shoots Roarrickk a bit of a glare and is met with a tight lipped frown. "What is it you need, HONEY ?"
Her frown became more strained as she looked at him silently. "Roarrickk, darling, if it isn't anything to important, we really do have things to do, you know how to get to our room -"
"Shut it , Heavensbee." He quickly closed his mouth in an amused smirk. "We need to talk."
"We are taking so if it isn't important enough to say now it can wait." He motioned to get on with whatever she had to say.
"I mean in private." Her voice took on the raspy tone of restrained anger.
"Whatever for? I'm sure it won't hurt if President Coin hears what you have to say."
"It's none of her business."
"If it involves my district, it's my business." Coin was apparently waiting for Roarrickk to spit whatever she needed to talk about out.
"It's has nothing to do with your district." The words were almost serpentine in how they were hissed.
"Just tell me , I don't have all day, Roarrickk." He looked so cocky and proud that he was flustering her.
She puffed out her chest and deepened her glare. "Fine! Plutarch I'm pregnant."
She almost cheered when he went white and the President excused herself. "Are you sure?" He met her eyes but she couldn't read him.
"Duh. District 13 docs checked me out this morning. Two months along by their estimates." She was preparing for him to lash out at her for carelessness or cuss her for embarrassing him in front of the President, but smiled when she remembered who she married.
"You're Pregnant. You're going to have a baby. We are going to have a baby. I'm going to be a father." She smiled even more as he grew ecstatic. "Roarrickk, I'm going to be a father!"
She mumbled about stupid men and their emotions, before he swooped her into his arms. "And you, you are going to be the most wonderful mother."
She kissed him softly on the corner of the mouth. Sometimes it amazed her that this was the same man who believed that war was like a chess game and she married him despite his annoying tendency to overlook the simple solutions and rush into dangerous strategies.
"The question is , will you be able to make our baby a symbol of hope for the rebellion." His smirk was answer enough. God, she loved her brilliant idiot.