Who: Delaney Twilfitt and Maeve Sheridan What: Delaney wanted to watch telly for her birthday. Too bad she has a mouth in her head, and a foot to put in said mouth. When: Backdated liek whoa! Sorry guys, work got in our way. Set on September 20th, after Maeve saw the comments on this entry. Where: Maeve's little place above the Apothecary Ratings/Warnings: PG. Language, mostly, and a little making out. Status: Google document log/Complete/Closed
It was sort of an exciting birthday treat, getting to watch telly for the first time. She had a rough idea what to expect, something a bit like wizarding photos, but beyond that, she was clueless. It would be interesting to see what the muggles had come up with emulate what was for her commonplace.
What wasn’t exciting was the way she was starting to feel tired all the time. She knew why, but she also there was nothing she could to to stop it, so it was just an annoyance for her. She was used to being the girl that could be at a social engagement until dawn, shower, and get ready for the next one, but now she was nodding off at embarrassingly early hours.
Well, she thought, perhaps this is to get me used to all the nights coming up when I won’t be ABLE to go out because I’m going to be stuck at home taking care of my son.
Not bothering to knock, she apparated directly into Maeve’s bedroom and smiled, leaning in for a kiss. “Happy birthday to me, right?” she said brightly.
Maeve, kneeling on the floor and half hidden by the large telly she’d stolen from her brother’s flat (after buying him off with a case of beer) lifted her head when the pop echoed through her flat and signalled Delaney’s arrival. Most of her afternoon had been spent tracking down her sibling, cajoling him into sharing his television and then figuring how to hook up the bloody thing in a wizards flat. It had been an excellent distraction from the journal conversations she’d read and the conclusion she’d been forced to come to about Delaney and pregnancy. Of course, confirming her theory would require a most likely uncomfortable conversation, one she wasn’t really excited to have. Postponing their night in would only serve to bring the conversation about sooner, so she decided to do her best to carry on as normal.
“Cheers,” she said, clambering to her feet and brushing the imaginary dust from her knees before leaning in to return Del’s kiss. She gestured toward the television with a small flourish and allowed a proud smile, she did best the bloody device after all. “Happy Birthday.”
Beaming, Delaney examined the contraption, then frowned slightly, checking the back of it once more. “Where’s the door?” she asked, confused. “I got told that telly was like wizarding photos, but muggles don’t have magic, so where’s the door for the little people? How do they get in?”
She went back around to the front, and surveyed the blank screen. “It’s... black,” she said, still confused. “Don’t think I’m not appreciative, because I am, you’ve clearly gone to a lot of trouble,” she kissed Maeve again, lingering a little this time, “but I think I may have built this up too much in my head.”
She plopped down on the couch and held her arms out for Maeve. If there was going to be snuggling, then the night wouldn’t be a complete loss.
“It’s off,” Maeve explained, summoning a bottle of wine from the counter and settling in beside Delaney. “It’s not on all the time,” she explained, pouring herself a glass. “Well, usually not. For some people... not always,” her brother, she was well aware, abused power like none other she’d met; his flat was rarely quiet, with every electronic device running simultaneously.
She took a sip and glanced around for wherever she had placed the remote and summoned it with another wave, turning it on and flipping through the first two channels and their adverts until a sitcom popped up. She leaned back into the couch, settling against Delaney’s side and turned her head toward her. “Better?”
Delaney’s eyes had widened as soon as Maeve had turned the thing on, watching the colors and products jumping across the screen, but this, this was even better. “What are they doing?” she asked in a hushed voice, watching the little people intently. But as she watched, she found she could tell for herself, and she even found herself laughing at the antics of the little people.
“Where do they find such little people?” she marveled to herself, snuggling into Maeve. “Thank you,” she murmured, “This is maybe the most interesting birthday I’ve ever had.”
But now she was torn, between wanting to watch the little people, and wanting to kiss Maeve. What to do, what to do? She settled for keeping her eyes glued to the screen and slipping a hand up Maeve’s shirt. It wasn’t ideal, but it was as close to the best of both worlds as she was going to get.
Maeve smirked, watching the enthralled expression spread across her girlfriend’s face. She even did her best not to laugh at her question, turning it into a brief cough she covered with a sip of wine. “They are normal sized people,” she explained. “They broadcast the picture, sort of like with the wireless, and the image just fits on whatever size screen you have.”
She started to go into further detail when the hand under her shirt gave her pause, raising an amused eyebrow at Delaney.
“You’re so smart,” Delaney said adoringly, only half teasing. “And you’re pretty, too... you’re, like, the whole package. I’m so lucky.” She smirked back at Maeve’s raised eyebrow and continued to caress her breast gently, thumbing Maeve’s nipple, her own eyebrow raised in challenge, as if to dare Maeve to tell her to stop.
The show seemed to be over, and Delaney took advantage of the opportunity to climb on top of Maeve, straddling her legs and bringing their lips together. “You know, for showing me such a good time, I’m going to show you a good time,” she promised, a roll of her hips showing Maeve exactly what sort of a good time she was in for. “You’re so good to me.”
“Uh huh,” Maeve rolled her eyes and reached for her glass before Delaney moved her attention over. “You just...” she trailed off as the other woman slid over, straddling her lap and moving against her. Maeve was content to sit there and watch television and keep her mouth shut to avoid dealing with the possibility of pregnant Delaney until she could think it over but this was something else. “Delaney,” she sighed, shifting awkwardly in the hope the other woman could pick up on the uncomfortable vibe.
“What?” Delaney murmured, caught up in tasting the smooth skin of Maeve’s neck. “Don’t tell me you’re going to deny me on my birthday? I wanted to touch you... I want you to touch me...”
Her hands weren’t idle, they moved up Maeve’s front, touching her and caressing, grasping the hem of her shirt and beginning to tug it up over her head.
“Del,” she repeated, tugging her shirt back down. Maeve turned her head aside, looking at the throw pillow beside them rather than at, what she was sure, was a look of indignation.
“What the hell?” Delaney asked, unsure if she was more angry or hurt. “What the fuck did I do, why are you being like this? I haven’t done anything for you to be pissy about!”
That you know of, she told herself, feeling guilty.
“I thought we were good,” she went on. “I mean... we didn’t talk, and then we worked it out, right? And you put on this birthday treat for me, which can’t have been easy, that thing looks heavy... and I just don’t understand what I did that made you change so suddenly!”
“Heavy?” Maeve asked, lifting an eyebrow as she grasped at the alternate topic, “I’m a witch.” She twisted and turned slightly, shifting to try and get out from under Delaney. She all but forced her aside to stand up, taking her wine glass and bottle with her to walk around the sofa to the kitchen, leaning against the counter.
Well this was not going the way Delaney had hoped. She walked up to Maeve, putting her best, pouty, “I’m sorry” face on, even though she still had no idea what the hell Maeve’s problem was. Was she just being frigid? That didn’t make any sense, considering how much sex they had already had!
“Baby, can I kiss you?” she asked in a small voice, stepping closer, pressing their bodies together. “I don’t know why you’re upset, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise...”
Maeve felt the urge to step closer, to press against Delaney and kiss her but resisted. “I don’t know about that,” she said against her better judgement, taking a drink of wine to keep the distance between them.
Pouting, Delaney plopped back down on the couch. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you’re really making my birthday a delight,” she said in a sulky voice. “I could have gone to Diamond with Daphne and Pansy, but I thought it might be nice to spend some time with the girl I like, doing something I’ve never done before. And you got the telly for me, fair enough, but now you’re being all weird, and I just don’t understand!”
She was horrified to find herself getting a little sniffly. “Will you just tell me how I fucked up so I can fix it already?”
Taking a slow drink of wine, Maeve watched Delaney sulk off and fall onto the couch, not sure if she wanted to go down the road that lay ahead. The pathetic sniffly tone, however, was the push she needed. She’d never had much patience for emotions and tears and even if she genuinely liked the other woman she could only deal with dragging things out so long. There looked to be only one way to go about this.
She took another sip and spoke from her spot against the counter. “You’re pregnant.”
There was a sinking feeling in Delaney’s stomach that she wasn’t used to, and didn’t like. Maeve knew. She didn’t know how Maeve knew, but she knew, and Delaney had no idea how to proceed from here. “Um,” she said, coloring bright red. “Uh, yes. I, um, I’m pregnant. But you knew I’d slept with blokes...”
Now she had a little voice in her head telling her not to go there, not to play this off as if Maeve should have figured this would happen. Without knowing how Maeve felt about the situation, she really didn’t know what to say, and she floundered, visibly searching for something to say.
Maeve watched Delaney for a moment, taking another sip before setting aside her glass and folded her arms across herself. “I don’t think anyone would have leapt from the one to the other,” she pointed out.
“I didn’t cheat on you,” Delaney clarified quickly. “When I shagged those blokes... we weren’t ‘together’, because you didn’t want to be. And now there’s this... well, it’s unfortunate, but I’m not shagging blokes anymore, I’m only shagging you... I want to be with you.”
“You’re pregnant,” she repeated, starting to feel mildly ridiculous for having to point out the obvious.
“Only a little bit?” Delaney replied hopefully. “I’m not even showing yet, this doesn’t have to be a big deal...”
But it was going to be, she was beginning to sense. This wasn’t going to end well, and there was a sick, churning feeling in her stomach, growing along with her awareness of how bad this really was.
“I can’t speak from experience,” Maeve drawled, just barely keeping in an eye roll. “But I don’t think you can be a little pregnant. You either are or you aren’t.”
“Okay, well I am then,” Delaney said defensively. “What does that mean... for us? I mean, is it, like, too much for you? Or are you actually willing to stick around and be with me anyway?”
It would not be a good start to her son’s life, if he was born with his mother resenting him for screwing up the first meaningful relationship she had ever had. Even if it was entirely said mother’s fault, and not Jovi’s fault at all.
Maeve stared silently at Delaney for a long moment, at a loss for words. She was still trying to process the fact that Delaney was pregnant and hadn’t told her, obviously wasn’t planning on telling her, and she was going on about their future. “I don’t know,” she said, stepping away from the counter anxiously. How was she supposed to know what it meant for them.
Looking around the tiny studio, Maeve momentarily wished they were elsewhere so she had the option to leave and think. Instead she paced around the kitchen once, plucking up her wine glass. “That isn’t really fair, is it.”
It wasn’t fair? Delaney didn’t know if anything ever was fair, or ever would be fair again. “I’m sorry,” she pleaded. “I... I don’t want to lose you over this. Just tell me... did I ruin everything?” She looked up at Maeve, her eyes vulnerable. Not that any of this was Maeve’s problem, but neither Marcus nor Caine was ever likely to touch her again - if Maeve deserted her now, Delaney was doomed to be alone for a very long time, and she didn’t know how she felt about that.
“Merlin, Delaney,” Maeve gestured widely, tossing her hand up. “No, I don’t...” She looked at the other woman again and thought about the whole prospect and had to look away, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I just need to think right now.” She looked down at her glass and gave Del a moment to take the cue to excuse herself, adding when she didn’t stand up right away, “Please.”
Delaney got to her feet, shaking a little, and looked at Maeve for a long moment, before rushing out of the room, not trusting herself to apparate.