Unsteady

I know baby, I know

"Mother, I know, that you're tired of being alone"

I'm now 9 months fucking pregnant and I can't move. I can't even get off of the couch by myself, which sucks, but I get to touch Bucky so I guess that's a plus. I haven't been able to sleep correctly, and Bucky always tries to help me get comfortable. But with the luggage I'm always carrying around, it's completely impossible.

I mean I was so tired yesterday that I fell asleep on the kitchen table while looking at letters from Tony about upcoming missions different people would be going on. Not that it really mattered to me but he knew I loved knowing what was going on when I wasn't in the field.

Today was one of the worst days. The Braxton Hicks were hitting more frequently, and I knew I wasn't going into labor which made me disappointed. I was exhausted, and you could visibly see the dark bags under my eyes, as well as the permanent yawn on my face.

I can't even have ten minutes without needing to pee. Our damn daughter keeps rolling around like an acrobat and keeps kicking my bladder. I swear I've almost peed myself like twenty times in the past two days.

Bucky could tell my mental state wasn't where it usually was, and he came to sit next to me on the couch, placing his hand on my now portruding belly as I held back tears.

"What's wrong doll?" He asked, and I immediately burst into tears.

"I'm so tired Buck," I cried, "I just wanna sleep comfortably."

"I know doll," he said softly, caressing my cheek with his other hand, "it will be over soon. She's going to be here soon I promise."

"You are never touching my no no square again," I frowned, and he started laughing as my lip began to quiver once more, "why are you laughing at me?"

"I'm not laughing at you darling," he said as he held back a laugh, "Don't cry doll."

"Easy for you to say, I'm dying over here," I said as my voice broke, "I have to carry this thing inside of me, and when I tell her to move out because she hasn't paid her rent, she locks the door."

"She'll be evicted soon."

"I hope so, I fucking waddle now James," I cried, "I can't even walk right!"

"That's okay," he said reassuringly, "you're carrying a human inside of you Tess. You're creating life with your body! Who cares about a little waddle? I find it adorable."

"I'm a fucking duck."

"You're my little duck," he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as I let out a depressed sigh, "hey, what do you say to a day of pampering?"

"For you or me?" I asked, and he looked at me confused.

"For you silly who else?"

"I don't know," I admitted, "I know you like hygiene."

"I know," he laughed, "especially now that you haven't showered for three days my little grease ball."

"I can barely fucking stand Ja-"

"I'm just messing with you," he chuckled, "but before we go anywhere I'm cleaning you up. You hear me?"

"Can you shave my legs for me?"

"I'll never say no to that doll," he said softly, helping me off the couch and helping me waddle up the stairs to our bathroom where he did all of the work. He took off my clothes, he started the water. Even inside the shower he washed my hair, he washed my body, and he even shaved my legs!