Two to tango

JBNP has been doing writing challenges and you know how I love a challenge. This one was inspired by a YouTube clip of a woman, pregnant and overdue with twins, trying to dance the babies out.

Twins, I thought, I've written twins…

Pairing: Bella/Paul Waggener

From the W series.

Disclaimer: the characters and all recognisable situations belong to Stephenie Meyer - this is a work of fan fiction, except for the legends and histories of the Quileute that, of course, belong to them. I pay my respects to their gods.

Thanks to BanSidhe [ruadh sidhe] and Feebes86 for betaing and pre-reading.

Paul looked at his woman with delight. She was pregnant with their third child. The twins were staying with Phil and Nanna R. Bella was really, really pregnant. Like a whole week overdue and getting bigger by the second pregnant.

And he loved it.

She didn't. She was tired and grumpy.

"The twins were easier than this," she grizzled.

"Yeah right," he snorted. "You didn't even make it to the full forty weeks and then you passed out on the kitchen floor alone and nearly died… that's not what I call easier."

She ignored him. "I swear this one is bigger than the two of them put together."

"Well the longer she stays in there, the bigger she is going to get."

"You said she."

"Yeah. I reckon it's a girl."

"Based on what?"

"My epic wolfy senses."

She gave him a look.

He rolled his eyes. "You smell different," he explained.

"Really? Different than what?"

"Well, you smell different when you are pregnant anyway, but this time, you smell different to the way you did with the boys." She just looked at him. "Therefore, I think it's a girl."

"Huh. You've never said that before."

"You never asked."

"Humph."

He shrugged. "The world is all about scents for me. You know that." He moved over close to her. He got a look on his face as he leaned in and sniffed at her. She knew that look.

"You want to fuck her out of there?" he offered.

"Didn't we try that yesterday?"

"Yeah, but we could try it again. It didn't work."

"Man. Nothing has worked. So far we've tried driving the forest trails in the truck; the loud scary movies and the sex. And that was supposed to work; some chemical reaction or something I read. Sex should induce labour. Maybe you don't have the right chemicals, what with your wolfyness 'n all."

"Hey," he blustered. "This isn't my fault. Maybe you're just too comfortable. For her, I mean. She doesn't want to come out."

"Sure isn't comfortable for me," she grizzled. "I am klutzy enough anyway without carrying around this lump." She waved a hand at the protruding stomach.

Paul studied her. Bella never gained any weight when she got pregnant. She looked the same with bigger tits and a huge stomach. Still the same skinny arms and legs.

"You're better co-ordinated now," he argued.

"Am not."

"Are too."

She gave him a look

"We should dance her out of there," he suggested.

"Are you insane? I can't dance normally and now I'm the size of a whale. I've forgotten what my own toes look like."

"Whales dance… well they sing."

She waved her arms in frustration. "Gah if I strayed onto the beach, I'd get harpooned as part of the traditional Quileute whale quota."

He laughed.

"Come on… dance with me," he encouraged. He plastered himself up behind her; his front to her back. Wound his arms around her and rocked his body into hers; pressing his face in behind her ear.

"Get your cock out of my ass."

"That is not what you said last week, baby."

She chuckled.

They rocked together; taking tiny little steps. Bella rubbed his arms with her hands and then reached down to his thighs. She could feel the muscles shift as he moved. She could definitely feel his hardness at her back now.

"I know you, dancing turns into sex for you," she pointed out.

"Does not."

"Does too." She pushed his straying hand away from her breast.

"Oh come on Bella…. Dance with me," he pleaded.

His big hands stroked up her thighs and pressed over the baby in her stomach. He could feel a little foot. He pushed it and it pushed back at him.

They rocked a little more. Moving effortlessly together. She felt so loved. No problems with her husband ignoring her when she was pregnant or not wanting to touch her. Paul touched her more.

"She's quieter when you touch me. Doesn't wriggle or kick as much. Not that she can move as much now."

He noticed her use of 'she' but didn't point it out to her. "Heartbeat. She can hear me."

"Can you dance without removing your hands?"

"I can do more than that…" He left one hand on her stomach and started inching her dress up at the back.

"Paul…" she whined. But it was half hearted, he knew that.

"This one will work… really it will…" he argued.

"This is all your fault."

"Yeah probably."

"You made me pregnant in the first place."

"Takes two to tango, baby," he assured her.

FF_2154210_ - 7/01/2012 01:02:00 PM