Jon had spent most of the day packing up their belongings in anticipation of moving back to Maple Grove, insisting that he do the heavy work, while Vicki focus on lighter tasks. He'd been at it nearly all day, breaking at last to order takeout from a local Chinese place he fancied, making sure to order something that was vegetarian-friendly for his pregnant wife.
The buzzer sounded alerting them that their dinner had arrived and Jon hit the button and let them know it was okay to come on up. "Vicki!" he called as he grabbed his wallet and headed toward the door, weaving his way around the boxes that held their belongings that were piled up around the apartment. "Dinner's here!" He opened the door and swapped a few bills for a sack of Chinese food, smiling amicably and telling the delivery boy to keep the change.
It was just as well he'd ordered out - Vicki was in the process of packing up the last of the cooking pots and pans. They weren't going to be taking these with them, of course; Maple Grove Manor's kitchen was far too well stocked to possibly want more bits and pieces. No, these were going to be sent to the Welcome Center as a part of a donated start-up kit for anyone who might need it. As much as she might have complained about the way Jon had insisted on taking all the heavy packing for himself, Vicki was actually rather grateful for the respite. She was beginning to show properly now, and by all accounts, the backache that was just beginning to niggle at her was only going to get worse over the months ahead. Not that she was going to admit to this for quite some time, of course.
"If I'm very good, will you sit me in a high chair and feed me?" she called to her husband laughingly from the kitchen. "It'll be good practise!"
Jon chuckled at his wife's teasing. "Only if you wear a diaper!" he called back, smirking at the odd look he got from the delivery boy. "She's pregnant," he explained, though his explanation did very little to assure the delivery boy. "Keep the change," Jon told him, closing the door as the confused delivery boy nodded and turned away.
"You're lucky that kid didn't know who I am," he remarked, making his way back to the kitchen and setting the sack of Chinese on the counter.
"Well, Franco's declared that I'm either pregnant or really letting myself go now I'm married, so would it really matter?" she laughed cheerfully, biting off the end of the parcel tape as she sealed the box. Letting out a sigh that was more affectation than weariness, she leaned on the sturdy cardboard, sniffing at the enticing aromas rising from the sack. "Mmm ....If you keep feeding me like this, I'll be able to hide twins under a layer of blubber in a couple of years." She winked, moving over to touch a fond kiss to his cheek.
He smiled as he was kissed, fishing several cartons from the sack and setting them on the counter, along with egg rolls and a set of chopsticks for each of them. "Not really, but it's fun to keep them guessing." He opened one of the cartons and handed it to her, along with a pair of chopsticks. "Do twins run in your family?" he asked, arching a brow. It didn't really matter to him what they were having, so long as the baby or babies were healthy.
It was tempting to refute twins and suggest that triplets and more ran in her bloodline, but that was a step too far even for Vicki. She was nervous enough about having one little life on her hands, much less multiples. "No," she assured him with a faint chuckle, slender fingers struggling with the chopsticks as always. "What about yours" I don't think I've met any Granger twins, have I?"
He reached over to help her with the chopsticks, carefully adjusting the way she was holding them between her fingers, frowning as he considered his answer. There was only one set of twins that he knew of, but the thought of them made him frown sadly. "Frank and Cian were twins," he said. He'd supposedly been close to Cian, but Cian had gone missing before he'd had a chance to renew their friendship, and Frank was dead. "I don't know of any others."
He pulled away, watching her a moment to see if she'd be okay with the chopsticks or if he had to find her a fork, momentarily lost in his own thoughts, remembering the tragedy of a few short months ago.
A faint wince crossed Vicki's eyes as she realised what direction the conversation had taken, covering his hand with hers for a moment in silent comfort. "I thought they were triplets?" she found herself asking, choosing for once to push through the dip in the mood, rather than overwhelm it with a bad joke or seven. "Or is Gabrielle younger than them?"
She fumbled her chopsticks, sending a battered king prawn bouncing along the counter, making herself laugh. "Oh, bloody hell ..." Dropping one of the chopsticks, she stabbed the escaping shrimp with the other, impaling it securely enough to dip into sweet and sour sauce without losing the whole thing.
"Gabi is....adopted, I think," Jon replied, not sounding terribly sure of himself, but that's what happened when you had Swiss Cheese for a brain. He blinked out of his reverie as the shrimp went bouncing along the counter, laughing along with her. "Want me to find you a fork" Or do you want me to feed you?" he asked, with a smirk.
"What, and miss out on the joy of watching me eat with my fingers?" she countered through a mouthful, blowing him a kiss that was saucy in more ways than one beneath her playful wink. "I can manage, I'm just a bit clumsy today. Is there any furniture left that we can sit on without sticking to the plastic covering it, or are we eating on the floor again?"
The amused smirk was still in place, the melancholy mood passing quickly as it always did when Vicki was around. "There's always the bed, but we might not get much eating done." He took up his own chopsticks, reaching over to pluck up a piece of her shrimp, dip it in sauce, and guide it to her mouth, easily and expertly maneuvering the chopsticks. While he might not remember much about his past, some part of him remembered how to use chopsticks.
Her own grin deepened as he presented her with a mouthful that hadn't needed to be chased across the countertop, opening her mouth wide to take the whole thing in one bite. Of course, this had an added bonus - she couldn't speak around that much food in her mouth, falling back on the comical roll and sparkle of her blue eyes until she managed to swallow. "Oh, I don't know," she said cheerfully. "I sort of get the feeling you like it when I eat in bed." Double entendre, anyone" And surprisingly well constructed for a woman who loved a good nob gag.
He grinned as he watched her manage that mouthful of shrimp, amused by the look on her face and her inability to speak until she was done chewing. "That depends on what you're eating. Are you going to be one of those wives who sends her husband out for pickles and ice cream at all hours of the night?" He fished some chicken from the carton and brought it to his mouth, not missing the double entendre, but choosing to tease her about any possible future cravings instead.
The buzzer sounded alerting them that their dinner had arrived and Jon hit the button and let them know it was okay to come on up. "Vicki!" he called as he grabbed his wallet and headed toward the door, weaving his way around the boxes that held their belongings that were piled up around the apartment. "Dinner's here!" He opened the door and swapped a few bills for a sack of Chinese food, smiling amicably and telling the delivery boy to keep the change.
It was just as well he'd ordered out - Vicki was in the process of packing up the last of the cooking pots and pans. They weren't going to be taking these with them, of course; Maple Grove Manor's kitchen was far too well stocked to possibly want more bits and pieces. No, these were going to be sent to the Welcome Center as a part of a donated start-up kit for anyone who might need it. As much as she might have complained about the way Jon had insisted on taking all the heavy packing for himself, Vicki was actually rather grateful for the respite. She was beginning to show properly now, and by all accounts, the backache that was just beginning to niggle at her was only going to get worse over the months ahead. Not that she was going to admit to this for quite some time, of course.
"If I'm very good, will you sit me in a high chair and feed me?" she called to her husband laughingly from the kitchen. "It'll be good practise!"
Jon chuckled at his wife's teasing. "Only if you wear a diaper!" he called back, smirking at the odd look he got from the delivery boy. "She's pregnant," he explained, though his explanation did very little to assure the delivery boy. "Keep the change," Jon told him, closing the door as the confused delivery boy nodded and turned away.
"You're lucky that kid didn't know who I am," he remarked, making his way back to the kitchen and setting the sack of Chinese on the counter.
"Well, Franco's declared that I'm either pregnant or really letting myself go now I'm married, so would it really matter?" she laughed cheerfully, biting off the end of the parcel tape as she sealed the box. Letting out a sigh that was more affectation than weariness, she leaned on the sturdy cardboard, sniffing at the enticing aromas rising from the sack. "Mmm ....If you keep feeding me like this, I'll be able to hide twins under a layer of blubber in a couple of years." She winked, moving over to touch a fond kiss to his cheek.
He smiled as he was kissed, fishing several cartons from the sack and setting them on the counter, along with egg rolls and a set of chopsticks for each of them. "Not really, but it's fun to keep them guessing." He opened one of the cartons and handed it to her, along with a pair of chopsticks. "Do twins run in your family?" he asked, arching a brow. It didn't really matter to him what they were having, so long as the baby or babies were healthy.
It was tempting to refute twins and suggest that triplets and more ran in her bloodline, but that was a step too far even for Vicki. She was nervous enough about having one little life on her hands, much less multiples. "No," she assured him with a faint chuckle, slender fingers struggling with the chopsticks as always. "What about yours" I don't think I've met any Granger twins, have I?"
He reached over to help her with the chopsticks, carefully adjusting the way she was holding them between her fingers, frowning as he considered his answer. There was only one set of twins that he knew of, but the thought of them made him frown sadly. "Frank and Cian were twins," he said. He'd supposedly been close to Cian, but Cian had gone missing before he'd had a chance to renew their friendship, and Frank was dead. "I don't know of any others."
He pulled away, watching her a moment to see if she'd be okay with the chopsticks or if he had to find her a fork, momentarily lost in his own thoughts, remembering the tragedy of a few short months ago.
A faint wince crossed Vicki's eyes as she realised what direction the conversation had taken, covering his hand with hers for a moment in silent comfort. "I thought they were triplets?" she found herself asking, choosing for once to push through the dip in the mood, rather than overwhelm it with a bad joke or seven. "Or is Gabrielle younger than them?"
She fumbled her chopsticks, sending a battered king prawn bouncing along the counter, making herself laugh. "Oh, bloody hell ..." Dropping one of the chopsticks, she stabbed the escaping shrimp with the other, impaling it securely enough to dip into sweet and sour sauce without losing the whole thing.
"Gabi is....adopted, I think," Jon replied, not sounding terribly sure of himself, but that's what happened when you had Swiss Cheese for a brain. He blinked out of his reverie as the shrimp went bouncing along the counter, laughing along with her. "Want me to find you a fork" Or do you want me to feed you?" he asked, with a smirk.
"What, and miss out on the joy of watching me eat with my fingers?" she countered through a mouthful, blowing him a kiss that was saucy in more ways than one beneath her playful wink. "I can manage, I'm just a bit clumsy today. Is there any furniture left that we can sit on without sticking to the plastic covering it, or are we eating on the floor again?"
The amused smirk was still in place, the melancholy mood passing quickly as it always did when Vicki was around. "There's always the bed, but we might not get much eating done." He took up his own chopsticks, reaching over to pluck up a piece of her shrimp, dip it in sauce, and guide it to her mouth, easily and expertly maneuvering the chopsticks. While he might not remember much about his past, some part of him remembered how to use chopsticks.
Her own grin deepened as he presented her with a mouthful that hadn't needed to be chased across the countertop, opening her mouth wide to take the whole thing in one bite. Of course, this had an added bonus - she couldn't speak around that much food in her mouth, falling back on the comical roll and sparkle of her blue eyes until she managed to swallow. "Oh, I don't know," she said cheerfully. "I sort of get the feeling you like it when I eat in bed." Double entendre, anyone" And surprisingly well constructed for a woman who loved a good nob gag.
He grinned as he watched her manage that mouthful of shrimp, amused by the look on her face and her inability to speak until she was done chewing. "That depends on what you're eating. Are you going to be one of those wives who sends her husband out for pickles and ice cream at all hours of the night?" He fished some chicken from the carton and brought it to his mouth, not missing the double entendre, but choosing to tease her about any possible future cravings instead.