morgan caoilainn hopkins (directapproach) wrote in newsalem, @ 2012-01-19 01:03:00 |
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The Pleiades theatre was probably the last place that Morgan would have been expected to have been on St. Patrick’s Day. But there she was, mostly sitting along in the theatre minus a few techies that didn’t care for the holiday... or either did not drink or didn’t start drinking until after 10PM. She couldn’t stay home, not with the news that she’d been trying to figure out how to word for the past couple of days. When she started noticing the signs, the only person she’d been around when the thought hit her was Aoife, and she didn’t hesitate holding back her suspicions. A clinic trip with her cousin later had confirmed it -- she was pregnant. And it was still three months before the wedding! She had to tell Scott, of course. It made no sense in putting it off for too long because eventually the wedding date would be on them and it would be ridiculously difficult to explain the bump at that point. But trying to figure out what to say meant putting off the inevitable for a couple of days until it was a day that every Irish person proudly drank any alcoholic drink they’d want to take in. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen for her. Eventually, Morgan left, after tirelessly going over her theatre notes. When she came back home, Scott had already left for the pub but she had told him she’d meet up with him afterwards. She quickly changed and apparated over to The Local. The minute she appeared in front of the pub, the holiday fervor among the crowd was contagious enough to lift up her spirits for a moment. Spotting her fiance by the bar, Morgan waved and started weaving around tables to get there. Scott was getting married to an Irishwoman, and he lived in Ireland, so it was inevitable that there would be a large party for St. Patrick's Day. But it didn't mean that Scott didn't have work that day; he still labored through the evening broadcast, but managed to get home pretty early. Admittedly, he was surprised to see no signs of Morgan's rummaging through her closet to pick out the perfect outfit for the night, but he figured that she must have gotten ready at Aoife's or Brielle's. Regardless, he had been in the middle of partaking in some sort of game when he spotted his fiancee waving and walking towards him. "MORGAN!" he yelled loudly, though he would later claim that he wasn't even a little inebriated by this time. (Ah, but he most assuredly was.) When she was close enough, he leaned forward and planted a smooch on her lips. And as though people near him didn't know who she was, Scott wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and with his other, drink-bearing, hand, he pointed at her with his index finger. "I'm gonna marry this woman!" The response was a loud cheer, and he laughed slightly, before downing the content of his shot glass. Morgan most definitely kissed back, and although she hadn’t been rummaging when he came back home, she had been doing so right before arriving and she had picked out a green dress to wear for the occaion. Not too fancy but done up enough for a night out. With the cheer, Morgan blushed, even though some of the people nearby cheering were family. “Scotty,” she started, trying to hold back a laugh. “How much have you had at this point? I think this is the first time you’ve beat me to it! Congratulations, sweetheart.” After the drink had been swallowed, and the appropriate facial reactions had been enacted, Scott returned his attention to Morgan. "Not nearly enough, I don't think," Scott responded, setting the glass down on the counter. Picking up another one, however, he handed it to Morgan and took another one for himself. For the first time in what felt like ages, Scott was letting himself be free, and he wanted to enjoy the night for once. "Drink up, baby," he said, before downing the shot glass again. Again, his face went through the same reaction as last time, but once the glass had been set down, he decided that it was probably time to take a break. And let his buzzed mind cool off before drinking again and having a terrible hangover tomorrow. "Why were you working so late, anyway?" Morgan stared at the glass in her hand before looking up at Scott as he downed his drink. Oh, boy. It was probably moment of truth right now. Unless she could excuse herself and act as though she wasn’t feeling well. Nope, that wouldn’t do. On more than one occasion, she had insisted that alcohol could chase away any flu or cold. “Oh, you know,” she said, setting her drink down untouched. “Lots of stuff to take care of, things to tie up, the back setting still needs to get all spiffied and looking perfect for the production, but enough about that, sweetie, how about we go somewhere a little quiet for a moment?” Following that, Morgan gave him her brightest smile possible. It seemed a little odd that she had put away her drink, but he didn't think much about it. Maybe she just wasn't in the mood. But even that solution didn't make any sense in his already confused mind. But he merely nodded at her request and dragged her away from the crowd. Not that they could do much to get privacy. They were in a pub on one of the busiest night of the year. Therefore, they ended up just outside the pub, and thankfully a lot of people weren't around there. "Wish you were here earlier. Dennis made some crack and pissed off his girlfriend or whatever. So that was a lot of fun!" he snorted loudly, as he thought back on it. Dennis tended to put himself in shit spots most of the time. “Really,” she asked, somewhat absentmindedly. All of a sudden she felt tired, as if a whole day of doing absolutely nothing in the theatre was weighing down on her. Of course, that might have been another side effect of being pregnant, for all she knew. It’s like she had asked anyone, especially not her mother. “Oh, there. This seems better.” She took a deep breath as they stepped out. The cool climate outside seemed to calm her down, especially considering, as they were stepping away from the crowd, that she was starting to get nervous trying to figure out what to say to him. Hell. She could do acting. You give her lines and she’d say it but she was no playwright. She only told people what to do, not what to say. That was not her forte. "Yeah, really," Scott replied, not even noticing that Morgan had said it in such a nonchalant manner. He was too preoccupied with replaying the incident in his head, but once that had died down, he turned his attention to Morgan. She seemed tired, from what he could tell, and he squinted his eyes at her. "You okay?" he asked, after a moment of inspection. "Do you want to go home?" Scott wrapped a hand around her waist this time, and pulled her closer to him. "What's wrong?" “No.. I mean, yes, yes, I’m fine. Nothing wrong. You know... just fine.” Well, that was eloquent. Morgan paused for a moment and looked up at him. Why she was nervous, she wasn’t sure of. They had discussed this. She knew very well he wasn’t going to just drop everything and walk away for any reason (even if she was still insecure sometimes). But the problem was that they had decided that children were best after the wedding, after they were both done with one big event of their lives. Still, technically, they had been settled for quite a long time, what with living together for so many years. After the pause, she smiled up at him and then reached up with one hand to bring him closer. She kissed him once before pulling back slightly. “I love you, Scotty.” "I love you, too," he smiled at her, though now Scott was really beginning to think that something had happened. It seemed completely out of character for Morgan to be away from alcoholic drinks, especially on that day. Then a completely stupid thought hit his head - what if she was ill? Like - terminally ill? As he processed this thought, his face changed from chipper to completely horrified. “What's going on?” he finally demanded, with his voice rising, just a bit. “Are you dying? Do you have cancer?” “What? No! Why would...” Oh, right. The fact that she had morning sickness about a week ago probably helped with that. “No. I’m not dying and I don’t have cancer. But there is something I need to tell you. Remember when I got sick that morning and I told you I’ll go with Aoife to the clinic and I thought it was probably the flu? Weeeeeell, it wasn’t the flu. I’m not sick at all.” Morgan bit her lower lip as she paused for a moment. “And remember when a few months ago when I was eating a lot of sweet stuff because I was stressed out and there was... that scare?” It took Scott several moments. His thoughts raced from that one pregnancy scare to finding out that they didn't have enough money to finance their wedding to other minute scares, but none of the others really made any sense. With his eyes narrowed, he continued to stare at Morgan throughout this process, as he slowly began to realise what this could be about. But he refused to think about it too much, until she said it herself. She couldn't be … could she? He attempted to hide the smile that was forming, but he wasn't really confident that it worked. "Yeah...?" he trailed off, with a questioning look. Morgan smiled as well but her’s was an uncertain one. “I'm pregnant.” The questioning look stayed around for a few more moments, but it slowly turned into a smile -- a gleeful one, at that. "You're pregnant?" Scott asked, just to make sure he hadn't misheard anything. It was possible, considering there was alcohol in his system. "Yes, I went to the clinic," she said, her voice also rising in excitement. He was smiling... so that had to be a good sign. "I'm pregnant, Scotty, we're having a baby!" The smile quickly turned into a grin at her confirmation, and he couldn't help but yelp slightly and pull her into a bear hug. "That's fucking brilliant, Mor," he exclaimed, planting a kiss on her forehead. He was going to be a father! "How far along are you?" he asked, glancing down at her tummy, as though he could tell with just a look. Morgan laughed and hugged him back just as tightly. He wasn’t freak out, which was an extremely good sign. Unless... it was the alcohol in the system. “Two months. I’ll... be showing during the wedding, probably. You’re okay with this, right? He, or she, will be born after the wedding, of course.” "Hey, I don't care," Scott interjected immediately. He really didn't care. Wasn't it girls that cared about that sort of stuff, anyway? He didn't care as long as he was marrying the woman he loved... who was pregnant with his child! The thought made Scott grin again and he couldn't help but kiss her again. "That's fucking brilliant," he repeated again. "We're going to be parents. Like honestly." That was a good enough answer for her. She broke out into a big smile again and reached up to put her arms around his shoulders... even though she had to tiptoe to reach up there. “I love you so much, my walking Ken doll.” "I love you, too, Barbie," he continued to grin, wrapping his arms around her waist before kissing her lips. "We're going to be brilliant at this, you know. It'll be amazing." |