'Grandchildren!' Morag exclaimed. 'I'm trying to cope with the idea of children!' she told him. 'I am sooooooo not ready for the concept of being a grandmother....' She shuddered, the picture of her with grey hair and wrinkles about to do her mind in.
'And we train because we are better than the other side,' she informed him haughtily. Then she laughed. 'Well, we are!'
Morag sighed and stroked his face softly, letting what she felt for him show in her face. She nodded and felt bad for giving him such a hard time about the idea of having children. But she just wasn't ready....
His fingers ran through her hair. 'You're handling me,' she pointed out, 'as you do so well. But thank you. I'm...I'll think about it....' she offered. It was the most she could do just then.