A Moth Into A Butterfly

“Do you really have to do this?” Marilyn was perched on his bed as he went through his closet and dresser. Criss did not speak, only nodded his head.

“Do you think the black or the white t-shirt?”

“I think neither t-shirt, and you staying home with me here tonight.” she sighed anxiously.

“You're getting touchy.” Criss said lightly, still going through his clothes. Marilyn hauled herself up off the bed, not exactly easy with her baby bump, and put her hands on her hips.

“I'm PREGNANT, Christopher. I am almost three and a half months pregnant, and I am about to go and have my first ultrasound. I would really like it if you could be there to, you know, witness your child in my stomach. I've only been hauling it around, feeding it, protecting it, and vomiting my guts out, not to mention barely sleeping.

I just thought you might like to see the first fruits of my labor, here.”

“Marilyn,” he sighed and put down the t-shirt he had picked. He walked over and rested his hands on her hips, over hers.

“I am eternally grateful that you are having my baby. But babe, I've got to work. You understand that, don't you?”

“No, I don't understand. Not when working means setting yourself on fire trying to break your old record.”

“Well, if I got to the hospital, at least you'll be there for your ultrasound tomorrow anyway. It's just a quick trip in the elevator!” Criss grinned. Marilyn did not.

“We're going to have to have a serious talk about this. But can it wait until tomorrow? I'm about to be late.”

“I suppose.” she flung herself down on his bed and rolled to her side. “I'm not going to watch you do this.”

“I know.” he paused at the door, adjusting his hat nervously on his head. “Do you think I could have a kiss for luck?”

“I supoooose,” she repeated. But at least this time she was grinning as she rolled towards the edge of the bed and got to her feet. She tiptoed up to reach Criss. He leaned down to meet her halfway.

“I won't get hurt.” he promised against her lips.

“You'd better not. Or I'll kill you. Pregnancy can now be listed under temporary insanity, you know.” he chuckled and kissed her forehead. Briefly, he pressed a palm to her bump.

“Daddy'll be right back. You keep Mommy company.” he murmured. He caught the gentle, pleased look on Marilyn's face before turning and walking out the door.

**

When Criss came back, smelling faintly of success and burnt hot dogs, Marilyn was fast asleep. She was curled in the middle of his king sized bed, her arms crossed over her stomach.

Poor girl hadn't even taken off her shoes. Still riding the adrenaline high, the cheers of his fans ringing in his ears, Criss silently knelt on the bed and crawled over to her. He undid the ankle straps and eased the shoes off her feet.

“You're home.” she mumbled, rolling onto her back. Her eyes opened blurredly. “I didn't mean to fall asleep. I wanted to stay up and wait for you, or at least say where I'd collect the body.”

“I've got it arranged so you don't have to.” he rubbed an ankle. “Collect my body, I mean. JD will do that right away, so you can sink right into single mother hood as gracefully as you can.”

“Not funny.” she mumbled again. Criss just chuckled and stretched out next to her, pulling her against his chest.

“Couldn't help it.”

“You smell like burning.” Marilyn's nose wrinkled. “It's nasty. Why don't you work on a trick where you do something really smelly, but come out not smelling at all?”

“Because that's a really bad trick.”

“I disagree.” she uncurled and pressed herself against him. “If I wasn't so tired, I'd make you go take a shower.”

“We need to have a discussion.” his arms wrapped around her. Her head barely nodded against his chest.

“I know.” she agreed. “We need to have a serious talk. You start, okay?”

“Okay,” he inhaled and cupped the back of her head, his fingers rubbing her scalp. “Look, Marilyn, I know you didn't like the stunt I had to do tonight. But it's not going to get any easier for you. My life—my life has always been like this. We're going to have to come to some kind of boundary about what I can and can't do that we can both agree with.”

“Right,” her voice was faint and sleepy.

There wasn't going to be any talking to her about it tonight. She was zapped of strength. He cuddled her close and flicked off the light with his remote.

He'd just have to find another time to talk to her.