Sharon Carter is a super spy (exshieldagent) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-03-03 21:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, aramis, sharon carter |
Who: Sharon Carter and Aramis
When: Recently
Where: Work
What: Catching up in the break room
Rating/Warnings: Low/None
Status: Complete
Sharon wasn’t drinking coffee. It was on the “no no list” she’d gotten from her OB/GYN. So she was drinking green tea. (Her doctor said that the amount of caffeine in green tea was minimal, and that the beneficial antioxidant properties of the tea outweighed the risk associated with the caffeine, but that the decision was up to her what she was going to drink.) It didn’t have the same kick that coffee had, but it was something. It brightened her day.
She was waiting in the break room closest to her desk, staring absent-mindedly at the bag of tea steeping in hot water in her mug.
Aramis hadn’t actually been seeking out Sharon. He was keeping busy between doing his Agency work and then doing his Hydra work, and he wanted, for a moment, to escape from his desk for a while. He decided that meant popping into the break room to see what Porthos had brought for lunch. If it varied from his own lunch options, there was a chance that some swapping would happen.
So it was a surprise when he found he wasn’t alone as he walked inside. “Sharon!” he said brightly. Aramis paused to give her shoulder a light squeeze before he made his way to the fridge. “How are you?”
Sharon actually jumped at the sound of his voice. It startled her out of her daydreams, and she spun around quickly, almost embarrassed that he’d been able to sneak up on her so effectively. Seemingly without even trying. But it was just Aramis. The father of her unborn child. A man she trusted with her life--what’s more, with her baby’s soon-to-be life. She smiled, relaxing instantly at the sight of him. “I’m all right. Steeping. Ooh, you want to see the bump?” She asked, and turned sideways.
“Sorry,” he said, smiling a bit as he apologized about scaring her. “Steeping?” Aramis found a stash of cookies tucked away in Porthos’s lunchbag, seemingly as if Porthos had been trying to hide them from prying fiances. He closed the fridge and let out an excited sort of noise.
“Oh! Yes.” The bump. That made things very very real, didn’t it? Aramis walked over and sat down, looking at Sharon’s stomach. “-- Am I allowed to touch it?”
“Steeping.” Sharon nodded. She gave a gentle sigh. “It’s a good time for the mind to wander.” She gave a little nod, lifting both hands to tuck hair behind her ears. “If you want to. Thank you for asking, though. I swear, it’s like people go insane around pregnant women, and think it’s okay to touch without … I don’t know. Without permission.”
“I see.” Aramis shifted a bit, unsure of what to do with his hands. He’d been around his sisters when they were pregnant, and when his mother was pregnant with his younger siblings. But that had been different. That hadn’t been his baby. It was a big moment for him.
“I guess, though, I have slight leeway in that matter, don’t I?” he teased, resting his hands lightly on Sharon’s stomach. “Porthos and I were talking. We’re going to start converting our guest room into a nursery, for when we have baby with us, and we’re going to redo our downstairs for guests to stay.”
It was just a little bump, and they couldn’t feel anything from the outside. Actually, Sharon couldn’t feel anything from the inside, either. This thing, the quickening? The first time she felt the baby move? It hadn’t happened yet. Hopefully soon. If she was going to look pregnant, she wanted to feel pregnant. More than just the mood swings, weird cravings and horniness that came with the hormones flowing through her system.
She wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, either. It was strange to have someone else resting his hands on her belly with such reverence. But she gave him a grin. At least she could grin at the awkwardness. “You’re the only person in the world who’s allowed to touch my stomach without having to ask permission first.”
And she nodded. “That sounds lovely. I’ll probably need to come and stay with you guys when the baby’s there for a while… because of the nursing? I’ve been trying to research how to pump and all that, but it seems so complicated. I want to get back to work as soon as I can.”
“I’ll probably still ask anyway,” Aramis admitted. “Also, once I tell Porthos about this, he’ll be asking all the time, too. You’d think it was his baby for all he’s excited about it. Well. At this point, it sort of is, isn’t it?” he asked, smiling a bit.
He sat back and opened up the wrapped cookies, offering one to Sharon. “Of course you can stay with us. Whenever you want, before or after baby. And I’m sure any questions you have about anything you can ask my mama or sisters when you see them in May. They’ll be more than helpful.”
Sharon couldn’t believe how quickly and easily they’d slipped into this little, unconventional family. It was like an episode of Full House, or something, with Porthos as the hot, Uncle Jesse, and… wait. Who would that make Sharon? Or Aramis?
Bad analogy.
“It is. He’s allowed.” She said, giving a little laugh. “You both are.” She accepted the cookie. “Right. Your huge, intimidating family.” A wink. “I’ll keep the offer in mind if Veronica and her old flame from High School want to have a night to themselves.”
“You’ll be one of us in no time,” Aramis said, regarding his rather large family. He could already picture it, honestly. “Well, you can also keep the offer in mind if you just want to come visit. That’s allowed to, you know.” He flashed her an amused look.
Sharon chuckled softly. “I don’t want to impose. You and Porthos need time together. Wedding planning and everything. I’d hate to distract. Why don’t you invite me over some time, then I won’t feel so bad about it.” She offered. “I’ll even bring dessert. We can do dinner and a movie in the living room, or something. Just the three of us. Well, four.” She ran a hand over the tiny bump.
“Wedding planning. It’s daunting,” Aramis said, looking sincerely tormented by the idea. “Especially in such a time crunch. We’re actually going to head over to D.C. soon to try and finalize the venues we need. Washington over Memorial Day weekend gets pretty crazy. The sooner, the better.” He cracked a smile. “Which means soon we’ll be sending out real invitations, and I’ll probably need you there to keep me sane through that.”
Sharon laughed. “Why don’t you just let your mother do it all?” She teased. Aramis’ mother seemed like the type that would love to take control over the thing and bring them along for the ride.
“I can do that. I promise to lick envelopes and provide Irish Coffees to keep everyone sane.”
“Oh, she would,” Aramis said, without hesitation. “Actually, bless her, she’s doing quite a bit for us already. She’s got quite a group of acquaintances from her own work and I think one or two of them own a restaurant or pub where we might be able to have our little reception. I’m sure when I get over there I’ll be pulled around non-stop by her.”
He laughed, but it was fond. Aramis was entirely a mama’s boy, and having his mother be such a large part of things made him feel more at ease. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”
“That’s what mothers are for.” Sharon said, also fondly. Her own mother was a good woman, too. Though, not as… [insert adjective here] as Aramis’ mother. Matronly? Mother hen-like? Whatever the adjective was, Sharon was very fond of her to-be-baby’s grandmother. “Oh, god. That’s what I’m for, isn’t it?” She added, paling just a bit. The becoming a mom thing was still sinking in.
“Good. Then it’s a date. I’ll have my chamomile while you and Porthos get tipsy on Irish Coffees.” Because that sounded like fun.