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Being Her

A series of one-shots in Claire's perspective throughout the series For Her.

Um, will not go in any order. they come as i get bored enough to write them. PSSSTTT if you want a new story, go review with her!

57. Chapter 57

Rating 5/5   Word Count 556   Review this Chapter

“Claire. Claire, I want to speak to you.”

I stretch and mutter curses under my breath. I’ve been working for twelve hours. I’m not frustrated with Quil, just with the world as a whole.

And my God the girls I work with are annoying. I mean, they’re not bad to gossip about for once, but all they’ve been talking about all day is that I’m engaged.

But now that I’m here, home with him, it’s completely worth the fact that I almost punched out three giggly gynecologists to hear his voice.

Yes, I’m getting married. Yes, to the giant boyfriend. Yes, I know what they say about guys with big feet. No, we’re waiting until the wedding, and for God’s sake it’s none of your business!

“Of course. What is it?”

He stopped for a moment, to think. Or stall. And then he spoke cautiously. “After we get married. Do you ever want to have kids?”

I freeze.

Quil wants to… wants me. I know he loves me, but he’s always been so incredibly respectful. He really never makes a move, and after a while I’d realized that was just him. He didn’t desire me enough to risk scaring me, and that was that. I didn’t let it bother me, really, it was just a fact.

But the way he’s staring at me right now… I smile, slowly. “I don’t know. If you do, I’d like to. I haven’t actually given it that much thought. Yeah, I would. I’d like to. I want to have… your children.” I’ve always loved babies, since I was living with him and the kindergarteners were the only kids who’d let me play with them at school. Now I’m… I want to. I really want to be the mother of Quil’s children.

He grins, and then sobers. “All right. You do realize that…”

I sigh. He’s such an idiot sometimes. “I took health in sixth grade, Quil. I understand how babies are made, really I do.”

He gulps. “And…”

“And I’ll be your wife. I trust you. I guess we could probably figure out a way to have kids without actually… y’know. There are ways to do it without actually doing it. You don’t even need a doctor if both the man and the woman are fertile, and I have no reason to believe we aren’t. I could probably get myself artificially pregnant right here. But I’m not sure I want to.” That’s definitely an understatement. I’m sure I don’t want to. No, I think I’d like to do this the old-fashioned way.

He becomes very serious, his voice tender as he looks into my eyes. There’s a fire there, but instead of raging, it’s just smoldering, slowly burning. “I will treat that trust just as gently as it deserves,” he whispers, oddly formal, and I nod.

I know he will. I know he will never, ever hurt me. I know I can trust him with this, with everything. I know this is right. “Thanks,” I say. Then, “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.

“All right.”

Just before I turn away, I catch sight of the dazed grin on his face and giggle to myself.