𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

why are you washing dishes?

Nico stepped into the cafeteria, the weight of travel thick on his shoulders—mud on his boots, the tang of sea salt still clinging to his clothes. He expected the usual: noise, laughter, maybe Matt arguing with Hugo over rations.

What he did not expect, what stopped him in his tracks was her.

Bea.

In the back of the cafeteria.

Washing dishes.

Pregnant.

Her round belly pressed just slightly against the counter, sleeves rolled up, curls tied into a loose bun with a few stubborn ringlets falling around her cheeks. She was humming to herself, completely at peace.

And Nico?

Nico lost his mind.

He stormed across the cafeteria like a knight charging into battle. 

Several rebels side-stepped out of his way. Gally barely avoided getting bumped. Thomas blinked, started to say something but then saw Nico's face and wisely shut up.

"Bea."

She didn't flinch. She didn't even turn.

"Yes, Nico?"

"Why are you washing dishes?"

She rinsed a plate. "Because they're dirty?"

He blinked. Stared at her belly. Then the dishes. Then back at her belly. "You're pregnant."

"I know."

"You're seven months pregnant."

"Almost eight, actually," she said cheerfully.

He looked completely unwell. "You— soap is slippery! What if you fall? What if you drop a plate on your foot? What if the water's too hot— what if the baby doesn't like standing up this long?!"

Bea turned to him, slowly, arms still elbow-deep in suds. "Nico."

"Yes?"

"I'm not fragile."

"You're full of life, and I just got back from crossing three dangerous outposts and one weird sea monster to get you safer socks, and now you're doing chores?!"

She laughed. "I like doing chores. I was bored. And Matt spilled tomato stew all over the serving trays."

"He would."

Bea dried her hands on a towel and walked over to him, belly leading, smile soft. "Hey."

He knelt immediately, not because she asked, but because he needed to be closer. He placed his hands gently on her belly like it was a sacred object. Like she might disappear if he blinked.

"Hi," he whispered.

The baby kicked once.

Bea beamed. "She missed you."

Nico looked up at her, heart nearly bursting. "I missed her. Both of you."

And then... "Now please," he added, eyes serious, "promise me no more dish duty. Ever."

"Ever?" Bea teased.

"Ever."

"Even after the baby's born?"

"Especially then."

Bea hummed, pretending to think. "What if I bribe you with chocolate cake to do the dishes for me forever?"

"You don't even have to bribe me," he said, standing to kiss her forehead. "Just don't make me go feral in the cafeteria again."

Too late. Everyone was watching. Minho slow-clapped. Brenda shouted, "Protective husband points: one million."

Bea rolled her eyes. "You're dramatic."

Nico pressed a hand to her belly again. "And you're standing up too long. We're sitting. Now."

She let him lead her to a bench. Sat, finally. Let him fuss. Let him hold her hand like she was made of gold.

Because to him?

She was.