Surprises

            He leans his large frame against the doorway, a soft smile playing across his face at the sight before him. Amelia stands on her tip toes, desperately attempting to reach a bowl of oranges perched on a high shelf. Her round stomach prevents the ability to close the distance, however, making her attempts pointless. She drops down onto the heel of her feet with a low growl.

She puts her hands on her hips as she looks down at her stomach. Even from here, he can see the skin jerk and ripple as their son kicks out. His heart softens even more as he watches her rub a soothing palm against the renegade limb, offering a soothing word. Once again she glances at the bowl of oranges still perched upon the high shelf. He stifles a chuckle as she twists her body, angling the bump away from the countertop and trying to contort her body in ways he wouldn't believe imaginable, had he not seen just how flexible her body could be.

"The least you could do, my prince," she mutters, her breath coming in pants, "if you were planning on making me crave strange things at all hours of the day? Would be to crave something that's in reaching distance. How are we supposed to get up there, little one? Think momma can grow a few more inches?"

Her voice is calm and serene, and he loves it. She continues chatting away at their son as she eyes the countertop. His smile disappears within seconds as he realizes she's planning on climbing onto the countertop. Without wasting another second, he softly pads across the kitchen floor, making sure to avoid the squeaky floorboard.

He slides one arm around her, pulling her against his chest. Pride and love fill his chest when she sighs happily and leans against him, a hum playing upon the air. With the other arm, he reaches up and grabs the bowl one handed. A quick kiss is placed on the top of her head while he drops the bowl down with a soft thud.

"Next time ask, Kadan," he says on a soft chuckle.

"I could have gotten up on the counter, you know," she replies with a sniff. "Just because I'm as big as a house doesn't mean my balance shit the bed, I'll have you know."

"You said it, not me," he quips, his hand sliding from her waist and slipping to cup her ass.

"Bull you watched me save the world," she replies with a sigh, shooting him with a mock glare. "I think me hopping up onto a counter is a little safer than me fighting an archdemon."

He hums in response, rummaging through the drawers. She leans back against the counter, her warm gaze set upon her lover. He shuts one drawer and moves onto the other, intently rummaging through this one, too. When he closes it with a terse 'fuck!" however, her curiosity peaks and she pushes away from the counter to peer inside the third drawer.

"Bull what on earth are you looking for?" she asks, and he can hear the smile in her voice.

"A knife," he mutters, opening a fourth drawer.

"We have dozens of knives. And daggers. And war hammers. And-"

"Not that kind of knife, woman," he chuckles. "I'm looking for that little knife. The one you always use to cut your oranges into little pieces."

"Oh my love you don't have to do that," Amelia replies, reaching to grasp his hand in his. "At this point I think our son would be content if I ate the damn thing peel and all."

A quick "aha!" booms throughout the room as he shouts in glee, finally finding the knife in the fifth drawer. Why they had so many bloody drawers in a kitchen, he did not know, but he'd finally found it and damn it, he was going to slide the oranges how she liked. He turns toward her, putting an extra swagger into his walk as he stalks towards her, caging her in against the counter once again. She peers into his warm gaze, pulse quickening, her body flushing when he gives her a roguish grin.