Assigned by Station Chief Kate Laswell, Case Officer Kiera Dutton is assigned to track and locate the missing American missiles as well as the threat of Quds Force Major Hassan Zyani. Befriending Ghost during her missions was not indeed part of her...
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Kiera's morning sickness began to take its toll once she hit week seven of her pregnancy, waking up nearly every two hours to rush to the bathroom and empty her stomach. Amongst everything else, Simon never gave her the chance to do it alone - always being the one to hold her hair back and keep a damp cloth nearby. He didn't care how tired he was, he knew she was just as tired, perhaps more. It's the least I can do is be there for her, he thought every time he felt her be restless throughout the night, not one complaint leaving his lips nor entering his mind. "Do you want me to make you some tea?" He'd ask when she'd be sick early in the night.
She shook her head, sitting back against the tub between his thighs where he sat, closing her eyes at how his gentle touch managed to calm her every time. Looking up at him, she politely declined. "I get sick every time I smell it, I swear." She groaned.
"What do you need?" He whispered, his hair a tussled mess as he was known to toss and turn himself throughout the night as well as bury his head against a pillow.
"Sleep." She giggled, feeling another wave of nausea on the horizon.
"You'll get plenty of it, love. Do you want some water?"
She shook her head again, "I don't think I can drink anything right now, babe."
"I'd feel better if you did. I haven't seen you drink since we had dinner and considering you threw that up too, I can clearly see you're dehydrated."
"It's just part of it," She groaned. "I don't know how I'm going to sit through a however-long flight in a few weeks."
"We don't have to go if you don't feel comfortable."
"This ball is important to you, though."
"Not as important as you," He reminded her, arching his brow. "This is the first one I've ever accepted an invite to. A ball doesn't mean shit to me." He chuckled.
"I want to. I'll be fine."
"I'll believe that when you're not on this floor next to the Lou more than you are in our own bed."
She giggled, "You're so British."
"That tends to happen when you're from England."
"I wouldn't have guessed."
"I know. That pretty little head of yours has had a tough time thinking lately." He teased, running the pads of his thumbs against her cheeks.
"More like all the time."
"Well, I wasn't going to put it like that..."
She giggled, turning to sit on her hip as her arm draped over his thigh, nuzzling her face against the tender flesh of his clothed thigh, closing her eyes at his natural warmth as he ran his free hand along her bare arm, her skin sticky with sweat as she had been suffering through hot flashes throughout the day and night to compliment her nausea. "I'm so scared, Simon."
