Part 33

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Strap on, and strap in, ladies ;)







1 May 1981

5:00pm Friday

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Your third routine checkup was scheduled for that Friday afternoon.

You couldn't imagine why Paul wanted to come. You'd asked him more than once "are you sure?" to which he confirmed he was.

It wasn't anything so spectacular. Especially in this point of the pregnancy. Just to make sure everything was progressing as it should be, that you were both doing fine. And you were, to your knowledge. Besides, Paul had work all week. It would be an additional hassle to come.

Maybe it was some sort of internal guilt for missing nearly one third of it. That was your best guess, anyhow.

Even though you were used to taking the tube, it was Paul to insist to take a car to surgery.

Funny. Last time you were in the car like this with him, your mouth was on his neck, and on his ear, driving him mad with lust. That was normally how it went, though with the common decency of having the divider up during such things, and not leaving the backseat stained.

Instead, Paul's elbow rested on the windowsill, gazing out, lost in his own thoughts. Hands were well kept to yourselves, in your respective seats.

"We need a car." Paul absentmindedly said, still looking out the window.

You turned to him.

"In London...?" You said. "Not much point in having a car in the city, don't you think? And the parking... it'd be a hassle."

His head turned to you, still rested in his palm. His tone came a bit snippier than before, less agreeable, shifting the mood.

"What, when you're in labor, we'll just hop on the bus?"

Paul's voice lowered, expression more hostile. But never too much so. Snippy, as was always his fashion.

"Or, no... You'd just get on yourself, and call me once it's out. Reach me in my office, like."

It was so much like him. You responded in suit.

"We could get an ambulance if you're so worried." You said.

Paul finally seemed to crack, his irritation finally coming through.

It was odd on his otherwise soft looking face, those arched brows furrowed, jaw tense.

Paul couldn't be agreeable and cheery all the time, he was able to get fed up just as anybody else would, but it wasn't often that he let it show. Paul could well conceal it. But that didn't mean he'd simply lie down and take things, be played for a fool. He knew agreeability was a tool. To charm, and maintain levelheadedness.

You didn't see it a lot, but you were able to recognize it well enough, with particularly difficult clients.

He didn't lose his temper. Not often anyway, or that you'd seen. Sometimes his irritation would be clearer than usual, but even then, he'd remain smiling, even if his gaze turned biting, conveying as such through the eyes.

"Why're you making an argument out of it?" He said, his snippiness rather evident in his tone. "Why does every little thing have to be a dispute with you? I'm going to be a father. And it's about time I've gotten one. I've been putting it off. It's not as if I can't afford it."

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