Work Text:
Present Day
Lucrecia stared off into the distance, her fingers caressing a path over her much larger stomach.
The same path that Vincent had traced, once he'd found out about her child.
She could only hope the child was his; she'd been too hard on him, too harsh at the revelation of his father to know what the future held.
Three Months Prior; Sharpshooter's Quarters
"Sharp?" She whispered, face tucked against her lover's shoulder.
"Hnn?" He made an inquiring hum as his fingers traced up and down her thigh.
"Can I tell you something?" Sharpshooter's strokes halted at her hip. "... I think I'm pregnant."
Sharp's shoulders tensed under her hands; Lucrecia reminded quite suddenly that she was sleeping with a Turk.
They rarely took things at face value and were vicious if mislead.
"Is this a joke," the velvet voice rumbled.
She shook her head mutely, praying to whatever Summon was listening that he'd take the news well. "No joke."
The hand slid from her leg and touched the barely-there swell.
His face was near unreadable in the dark but she could make out his eyes. Eyes that widened, that glowed with the faintest hint of Mako, the crimson spark filled with joy.
"Ours?"
"I haven't..." Lucrecia fumbled, "not with anyone else."
"Ours, then." Sharp concluded easily, pressing kisses to her collarbone, in between her bra cups and down to each of her hips before he placed his cheek against her belly. "Hello, little one."
"They can't hear you-" she protested, wiggling as his breath ghosted across her skin.
"Luce," Sharpshooter looked up at her with absolute adoration in his gaze. "in my family, we talk to the little ones. Kaa-San wouldn't let me back into the house if I didn't sweet-talk our firstborn."
"Planning another already?" She inquired lightly.
"Not likely; small families run in mine. I've never had any siblings and thought it a crying shame." Sharp admitted with his cheek still pressed to the swell.
"I have one," Lucrecia confessed, "but we haven't talked in ages. I wonder how she's doing...?"
"Mn. Likely our only child then; all the more reason to talk." He countered with a soppy grin. "I know your Obaa-San will love you breathless, little one, same as I do."
Sharpshooter gently caressed her child, cheek shifting to press against her ribs as he traced the sigil of Bahamut over and over and over again.
Lucrecia let him, still bemused by his superstitious ways.
She found decaffeinated coffee on her breakfast tray that morning, stolen from the upper employee lounge because she wasn't allowed to go in there.
Clearly, the men just wanted to gossip about her without her being within earshot.
Sharpshooter had also picked up a small Nibel Wolf plushie from the tattered gift shop down the mountain.
A fire hazard if she'd ever seen one, practically one match stroke away from going up in flames.
"Really? From the matchstick gift shop? Is this even safe?" She questioned even as she curled her arm around it.
"I cleaned it quite thoroughly before I handed it over, Luce," the concerned furrow between his brows made her laugh.
"I'm kidding Sharp, I love it," She parted the faux fur with her fingertips, gently ruffling it back in place.
"... I ordered you a pillow."
"A pillow?"
"Mn. Supposed to help you sleep better,"
"It's barely even here!" Lucrecia snorted , "Would you treat me like this even if I wasn't pregnant?"
Sharpshooter looked at her with a softened gaze, different than his usual aloofness in public.
Here, he softened immeasurably; only for her. The part of her that chased ambition and praise practically purred at that. He'd made her a priority.
"Lucrecia," he said solemnly, "I'd hand you the world if you asked it of me."
"And the pillow?"
He caught his lower lip with his teeth and sheepishly supplied, "If I mention that it's almost here because I ordered it the second you complained about the company pillows...?"
She couldn't help herself, she laughed.
Who knew a Turk could be so thoughtful?
He continued to silently turn her days around, offering her leg massages in the soaking tub, sneering under his breath at Hojo's various incompetencies and praising Faramis.
He was her bodyguard, her sole light in the terrible place that was Nibelhiem.
Sharp was a wry sort of soul, happy enough to please her but less inclined to guard the others aside from Gast.
"So," Gast teased softly, "the bodyguard?"
"Please, as if the three of us weren't married to our work already," she scoffed, looking up from her own results for the Chaos project. "He's the best I'm going to get in this fire hazard. No offense, Dr. Faramis—"
He chuckled, "None taken, Dr. Crescent. Even I have eyes and that young man is handsome by most standards."
"'Most?'" Lucrecia echoed.
"I sit on the side of the fence and I don't dual-wield, if you know what I mean." He pointed out.
She caught his meaning with a raised brow. "You're saying...?"
"Oh, I'm sure Sharpshooter's had his fair share of it. Just be happy he's choosing you over the hunters who don't seem to care about who chooses who." Gast admitted as he clucked his tongue at the result he'd pulled from the machine. "Hmm, I'll need to go to Icicle and the Crater for some more samples. You coming?"
"I'd like to think I've outgrown the place," She sneered at the very notion of her hometown. "not to mention your Nibel is more than sufficient enough to navigate."
"... Very well."
"I think I know what you're after and it isn't samples," Lucrecia paused. "Good luck with wooing the natives up there."
"I actually meant samples, dearest Lu, but you keep dreaming." Gast rolled his eyes but began packing his field kit.
The soft package on her bed made her day slightly better.
Hojo was abominable without the presence of Gast to shame him into something approaching human.
Sharp opened it for her and slipped a cover over the promised pillow.
"... I'll get you dinner and a light decaf, hnn?"
Lucrecia sank into the gift, the lingering cologne Sharp had on just for her making her smile into the cover.
When he came back, she shifted groggily, unwilling to get up.
Sharpshooter clucked his tongue, casually lifted her to settle her under the covers and tenderly tucked her in.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he untangled her hair. He brushed it gently, braided it and used her ribbon to tie off the end, the skiff of fabric giving away his choice.
"I'll have this under a combo for when you wake," he murmured, the snap of a Shield and a Fira to keep it warm brushing against her back. "Rest well, anata."
Present Day
She curled around the pillow all the tighter, the way her stomach pressed into its softness a vivid reminder that soft days like her past had passed for her.
Lucrecia got up, tucked the pillow under her arm and padded into the labs on slippered feet. She turned off the cameras via the computer and sat next to the pale, pale near-corpse.
"I'm having a hard time naming them," The shallow breath that lifted Vincent's chest made her sigh.
"... Lu?"
"You should rest," she gave a wobbly smile, her heart pounding in her chest.
Her last-ditch effort had worked! He was alive, alive where Hojo had thought him dead.
"... Wh-ere?"
"The Infirmary," she lied, unnerved by the glowing crimson he now sported, the gold of the center ring a dead giveaway as to what kept him breathing.
"Ah. Thank you, anata."
"You're welcome," Lucrecia managed before tears streaked down her face.