Whenever, Wherever | Michael Jackson

Chapter 102-Locked In The Office

"Okay, okay," Michael sighed, grabbing her around the waist as he took her off her feet, "You're coming with me," he said, not wanting to talk about this in front of his in-laws, "Kayden, Ellie, we'll be back to talk about how to switch you back," he called over his shoulder before he basically carried her up the stairs and into their shared office. He set her on her feet before closing the door, clicking the lock, and leaning against it, "Go ahead, baby—yell, scream, cry—whatever you have to do. I can handle you, but we're not leaving this room until you've expressed exactly how you feel."

"You don't get it, Michael. You're not a woman. Why is it women that have to have periods, and pregnancies, and miscarriages, and all this other shit, and men just get to get away with saying, 'Ugh, my wife is so hormonal' and 'She's acting crazy—she must be PMSing or pregnant!' and they just get to sit there and observe," she said, her voice raising in frustration, "Why is it that women have to go through all this bullshit for you, and all menfolk in general, to get your dick satisfied in a quick three minutes and it's over with? Why is it that I'm the one who has to have my eggs fertilized, risk having a miscarriage, risk all this other shit, while you just get to sit back and enjoy the ride?" Athena ranted, "You don't have to carry a child—I do! You don't have to miss work—I do!" she added, "You don't have to stop touring the world—I do! You don't have to give up your entire life for the sake of a child—I do! You don't have to give up your career and resign yourself to becoming a housewife—I do!"

Athena's rationalization finally broke through Michael's calm demeanor. He sighed and looked at her with a mix of concern and sympathy, "Babe, you're right—I'm not a woman, I'm a man. Men will never understand half the struggles women go through—but we do watch, we observe, we learn what to do to help. Baby, never once have I said to anyone 'Oh, my wife is so hormonal' or 'She's acting crazy—she must be PMSing or pregnant!'. I may be a man, but I am also your husband, and I love you more than anything. As for carrying the baby, you're right—I can't understand what that's like. But I will never, ever ask you to give up touring or your career. And we've discussed this before—I don't plan on ever going on tour if you're not with me. That's a given," Michael said, wanting to address all of the points she made, "You don't have to miss work, you can still tour—just very carefully. Be smart about it. And obviously I'd come with you, even if you weren't pregnant. Nor do you have to give up your life or career for the sake of having kids—I'm here, and our friends and families are here. They're not gonna let us be completely taken over by children. As for your body changing, I love you how you are now, and I will love you no matter how pregnant you become. And as for you resigning yourself to housewife duty, what on earth ever made you think I'd relegate you to something as mundane as that? You are the Queen of Pop, baby girl, and you will always be," he said gently, "What, did you think I would impregnate you with our kids, make you give birth to them, and only bring you to award shows and other events to only make once in a blue moon appearances, then leave you at the house with the children and a bunch of stuff for you to do while I continue touring the world and selling albums?" Michael asked, shocked that she could even suggest such a thing.

"It's what most men in this industry do," Athena muttered, not even bothering to look at the shock on his face, "The woman ends up being reduced to a mere 'Baby Mama'."

Michael couldn't believe his ears, "And you think that's what I would do to you?" he asked, genuinely hurt by the idea, "You are the love of my life, the woman of my dreams, and the mother of our children, if we decide to have them. I would never treat you like some mere baby mama. I want you by my side always, on stage and off. I would never leave you behind with our children while I go tour the world. That's not what we're about; that's not who we are. Leaving each other at home with a bunch of stuff to do while the other goes and tours the world is not what we do in this house, Athena," he said sternly, "And I'm a little hurt that you thought I would do something like that," he finished, putting his hands on his hips in a defensive stance.

Athena sighed and rubbed her forehead, feeling the weight of frustration lifting off her shoulders. She looked up and met Michael's eyes, seeing the sincerity and love reflected back at her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I know I'm being irrational. I don't want to be a baby mama—I just don't want the same struggles I see a majority of women in our industry go through. And I don't want to be a housewife, but I'm scared that if we have children, that's what I'll become."

"You won't," Michael reassured her, "We're not like that, Athena. We'll raise our children together, not apart. I told you, we don't tour the world without each other anymore. Not since the first time you went after we got married, and we realized that wasn't working for either of us to be separated that long," he added, "We're a team, one that will never be separated by children or careers. We're better together," he sighed, taking her hand and putting it over his heart, "Now, as for the whole 'getting your dick satisfied in a quick three minutes' comment, I have to say I'm a little offended," he scoffed in disbelief, "Three minutes?! You really think I'm that quick? Let me tell you, baby girl, that's an understatement," he chuckled, a smirk curling on his lips, "You know I'm inside you for hours on end, right? Not three minutes," he asked, "I know I last more than three minutes!"

"How, um.....how big is your, um....you know, your, uh.....?" Athena stuttered.

Michael hid a smirk, leaning against the desk, "That depends on what you mean," he said, "The length, the girth—what are we talking about here?"

Athena blushed, unable to look him in the eyes, "I don't know, like...how big is, um, your.....everything?"

"Well, my everything is about five feet tall, with black hair, and an attitude problem," Michael said with chuckle.

"I don't have an attitude problem!" Athena defended, "I meant your....uh.....your other thing!" she blushed even more, her cheeks flaming red, "Your...you know, your thingy!" she said, pointing at his lower regions before covering her eyes.

"C'mon, Hena, don't be shy," Michael teased, causing her to look up at him, her eyes wide with embarrassment.

"You're not helping, Michael!" Athena complained, her face still bright red.

Michael just chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, "Alright, alright, I've never measured it before, but if you're that curious, this is your only chance," he smiled, slowly unzipping his pants, "C'mere, baby girl."

Athena, curious, slowly stepped closer to him until she was right in front of him, "What?" she asked innocently.

"Floor," Michael indicated.

Athena looked at him, confused, but did as she was told, kneeling on the carpeted floor.

Michael gently pulled down his pants, revealing his evidently well-endowed member. He stood there, waiting for her to inspect. He knew Athena better than anyone and knew she was fascinated by his physique. Sometimes, he'd catch her sneaking peeks as he undressed, or admiring him in the shower.

He grabbed the measuring tape and handed it to her, "Go ahead. Satisfy your curiosity," he winked, smiling.

Athena took the tape, nervously biting her lip, and held it close to his arousal. After measuring it, she looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock, "How does that even fit in your pants?!" she exclaimed.