Screw the Underwear Models
Dec. 31st, 2011 02:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
intheheartTitle: Screw the Underwear Models
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Gail and pregnancy cravings.
Date: December 1998
Notes: It's just pointless fluff. Really. There isn't even any smut. Follows Good For You.
Someone, Gail saw with some relief, had had the foresight to either not eat her strawberries or to at least buy a new box.
Pregnancy cravings were a stone-cold bitch sometimes. When she'd been pregnant with Ivy, she'd wanted strawberries the whole time, craved them desperately. But it had been winter, off-season, and she had been saving for the baby, so she'd just had to go without. Now, of course, she had a significantly larger income and it was spring anyway; there were strawberries in every grocery store in New York.
And as for that other craving...
Right on cue, Nathan came up beside her and rested a hand on the small of her back. "Find the strawberries?"
"Yep," she said, grabbed the carton, and straightened up. "Find the kids?"
"Yep," he said, and laughed. "Aaron seems to have gone to his mother's."
Gail paused in rinsing the strawberries and arched an eyebrow at her husband. "Is that code for 'went to Jay's house to raise hell,' or has he actually gone to Melanie's?"
"He actually went to Melanie's," Nathan confirmed. "I just called her. And yes, he took Ivy with him."
So they had the house all to themselves. Excellent.
Her husband leaned back against the counter, and Gail took a moment to covertly admire him. Short and stocky, he wasn't the underwear model type, but given the choice... he'd taken off his jacket and left it somewhere, unbuttoned his collar and sleeves, and fiddled now with the top button on his shirt. He had lovely hands, big and careful. She loved his hands, and his eyes, deep brown and warm and forgiving, and...
He caught her watching and smiled at her, one of his full-force knee-melting smiles that always made her pulse pick up. Gail's mouth went dry. The underwear models could go screw themselves.
"Finished with the strawberries?" he inquired, innocently.
"Almost," she said, and ate one.
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Gail and pregnancy cravings.
Date: December 1998
Notes: It's just pointless fluff. Really. There isn't even any smut. Follows Good For You.
Someone, Gail saw with some relief, had had the foresight to either not eat her strawberries or to at least buy a new box.
Pregnancy cravings were a stone-cold bitch sometimes. When she'd been pregnant with Ivy, she'd wanted strawberries the whole time, craved them desperately. But it had been winter, off-season, and she had been saving for the baby, so she'd just had to go without. Now, of course, she had a significantly larger income and it was spring anyway; there were strawberries in every grocery store in New York.
And as for that other craving...
Right on cue, Nathan came up beside her and rested a hand on the small of her back. "Find the strawberries?"
"Yep," she said, grabbed the carton, and straightened up. "Find the kids?"
"Yep," he said, and laughed. "Aaron seems to have gone to his mother's."
Gail paused in rinsing the strawberries and arched an eyebrow at her husband. "Is that code for 'went to Jay's house to raise hell,' or has he actually gone to Melanie's?"
"He actually went to Melanie's," Nathan confirmed. "I just called her. And yes, he took Ivy with him."
So they had the house all to themselves. Excellent.
Her husband leaned back against the counter, and Gail took a moment to covertly admire him. Short and stocky, he wasn't the underwear model type, but given the choice... he'd taken off his jacket and left it somewhere, unbuttoned his collar and sleeves, and fiddled now with the top button on his shirt. He had lovely hands, big and careful. She loved his hands, and his eyes, deep brown and warm and forgiving, and...
He caught her watching and smiled at her, one of his full-force knee-melting smiles that always made her pulse pick up. Gail's mouth went dry. The underwear models could go screw themselves.
"Finished with the strawberries?" he inquired, innocently.
"Almost," she said, and ate one.
