A reader requested fluff, so fluff I shall give. I'm not as good at fluff as I am dark, so please forgive the rich cheesy coating if you taste one. Think of this as a collection of pregnancy (spoiler!) fluff stories rather than one big plot.

I do not own Fruits Basket.

Step By Step

Yuki Sohma still couldn't believe his great fortune of waking up next to Tohru Honda every morning, even if it was while kneeling next to her in front of the toilet, holding her hair back while she threw up. Supposedly the morning sickness would go away in the later months, but he was beginning to have his doubts. Something this unpleasant couldn't simply vanish. Unpleasant things took a long time to subside, especially when they were going to result in wonderful things. Then again, Tohru had always been good at making unpleasant things wonderful in a very short period of time.

On the seventeenth morning, after Tohru had sat back on her heels and smiled to let Yuki know that the nausea had passed, he said, "We need to make a list."

Tohru looked away from his worried face and pressed her hand to her still flat stomach. She did it every morning after she threw up. Yuki wasn't sure if she was making sure the morning sickness was truly gone or if she was trying to feel some sort of movement from inside of her that would reward her for his discomfort. It was too early for the baby to be moving enough for her to feel – all the books from the library had said so – but Tohru was always hoping. Her hand slipped off of her stomach and onto her knee. Yuki put his hand on top of hers. In a small voice, she said, "Already?"

"You're encouraging me to procrastinate?" He asked.

She reacted to his teasing the same way she always had since high school. Her face bloomed pink and her eyes widened as she tried to rectify what she thought was her mistake. "No!" She exclaimed, shifting so she was facing Yuki more than the toilet, "Not at all! I just meant that it's so early, and so much can go wrong –"

She clapped her mouth shut and literally swallowed back whatever she meant to say next. Yuki's smile faded, and he squeezed her hand under his on her knee. "That's why I want to make a list." He said.

Step One: Picking A Doctor

Tohru took the squalling kettle off of the burner and said, "Hatori-san, of course."

Yuki looked up from the barely-touched notepad and set his pencil down like he was arming a bomb. Kyo – who had not taken much time before giving a glowing Uotoni Arisa a set of very loud fraternal twins – had often followed his pregnant wife to Tohru and Yuki's house, where the couple would promptly resume their fight by each sequestering a host and filling them in on their respective sides of the argument. And since Arisa, with her swollen stomach and burning eyes, always snagged Tohru first, Kyo and Yuki were left to their own devices. Kyo spent much of the time describing what it was like to live with a pregnant woman. As far as Yuki knew, disagreeing with a pregnant woman was like arming a bomb.

He stood up and automatically fetched the mugs down from the top shelf before Tohru could hurt herself stretching for them. "You should think about an obstetrician." He said.

His wife blinked and accepted the two mugs from him, her face slowly forming into a stubborn expression. No one really understood just how hard-headed Tohru could be. She was as naturally sweet and even-tempered as she had been in high school, but after eight or so years of dealing with the Sohmas, she had developed a single-minded determination to make everyone happy. It was in that vein that she responded, "Wouldn't Hatori-san be offended? You've always trusted him before."

"I know." Yuki said and picked up the pencil again. What had he been expecting, some sort of tirade? This was Tohru, not Uo. He did trust Hatori, and there was no doubting that Hatori was an excellent physician. But still, as he watched his wife pour out their tea to steep, the DNA Yuki shared with Ayame itched. He could say it as the principle of the thing, but as much as it felt noble, it felt incredibly stupid. Hatori was a professional.

She brought the mugs to the table and sat down across from him, crossing her ankles underneath the table. As lucky as he felt waking up next to her, to have her sole attention in the morning felt just as wonderful. When they had lived in Shigure's house, she had always been a whirlwind in the morning. Between breakfast and homework and making sure Kyo didn't smash one of the more integral structural supports of the house, there was barely a moment for Yuki to greet Tohru good morning. There was a reason he never really learned how to tie his uniform's tie properly. Now he had the entire morning with her to sit and hold her hand, feel the wedding band on her finger, and remember that he had put it there. He said, "But I never entrusted him with my wife and child before."

It felt strange to say it: my wife and child. They'd been married almost eight months; he'd even filed taxes jointly. But between his only friends being the ones he shared with Tohru and all of them having been present at the wedding, he had never really had to say it out loud before: my wife. And now the my child part. He lifted his mug of tea to his lips.

Tohru frowned now, the stubbornness giving way to confusion. "I don't see what the difference is." She said, locking her eyes on his. "Hatori-san is our friend and our family. You trusted him with everyone else close to us, including you."

"This is different because…" Yuki coughed, his cheeks burning like the steam from his mug was curling around his face. A husband shouldn't blush at such a thing, especially when he had succeeded in impregnating his wife. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the reaction on her face and exhaled, "…because it means Hatori would be staring at your-…you for hours on end, and I'd have to let him."

There was silence from Tohru's side of the table. Yuki opened his eyes, the tips of his ears now going pink. Somewhere, in the distance, the ex-rat was sure, Shigure was laughing hysterically. His wife's expression was frozen in shock, either from the realization that she had been proposing such a thing or that Yuki would think in such a perverse manner. Yuki added hastily, "Besides, if something were to go wrong, Hatori would be involved in it. The last thing the Sohmas need is more resentment between family members."

Tohru looked down at the table, her face withering from shock to sadness. He hated to say it, but with this, it was something they would have to face. It was so early on, and from all the other library books he had read once Tohru had gone to sleep, an early stage in pregnancy was a precarious position. All pregnancy was precarious. Winston Churchill's mother had given birth to her son prematurely after tripping backwards over a log. The man set down his mug of tea and reached for his wife's hand again. He said softly, "I love you more than anything. I want everything to be perfect. It's your choice whom we go to, but please, see an obstetrician."

She nodded in agreement, smiled a paper-thin smile, and reached across for the pencil. She clumsily made a check next to the first and only thing on Yuki's list on the notepad and cleared her throat. "Next?" She asked.

"Next," Yuki said, and then stood up from his chair to lean over the table and kiss her. It was always like the first time they had kissed. It didn't matter if it was bleak outside or dark – kissing Tohru filled him with the same buoyant warm that her smile did. She smiled that luminous smile when their lips parted. She chided, "Your tea will get cold."

He brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear and whispered, "I love you more than anything."

The thing about Winston Churchill is true. Beware of logs. I was going to write this as a one-shot, but then I realized I was going to be breaking it down by steps and it would therefore be a one-shot with chapters. And then I thought, screw it, and went back to my old format. Now to see how long it takes for me to update! Taking all bets…

Please review! I don't hold my fic hostage like some would, but seriously, reviews remind me I have a duty to do. The more you review, the more I prioritize my fic over my boyfriend. It's okay. He's a writer. He'll understand.