Work Text:
“I hate you.”
Well. It wasn't the expected greeting from his girlfriend, not typically at least, but given the discovery they'd made four weeks ago it wasn't too surprising.
Jack made his way into his home, setting his bag down by the armchair, moving to where Samira sat on his leather sectional, huddled up in a blanket.
“Understandable, what crime have I committed today?” He approached with caution, moving to sit at her feet.
“I want a cheesesteak.”
His brows furrowed and he nodded. Mmm. This made sense. She was pretty committed to her vegetarianism, “That's peculiar.”
“It's you and your evil baby.” She pouted at him, shutting the laptop she'd had in her lap, “I hate you.”
“My perfect baby has perfect taste, cheesesteak is delicious.” His hands captured one of her feet, thumbs easing into the arch, working at the tension there.
Samira frowned, “Hate you.”
She had plenty of reasons to feel that way. Getting her pregnant her fellowship year? Absolutely a disaster that he felt pretty bad about. Getting her pregnant despite the fact that she’d had an IUD? Also something that she'd be forgiven for feeling quite upset about. The fact that they were still not openly together with most of their coworkers? That would make the next few months frustrating, thus making her anger justified.
His baby wanting a delicious cheesesteak while holding their vegetarian mother hostage was on the lower end of the understandable rage. He wasn't about to disagree with his pregnant girlfriend though.
He hummed thoughtfully and continued to rub her feet, feeling quite pleased at the way he saw her relax under his touch, “Why don't… We see if we can find any vegan options on DoorDash…and if not… I
I can run by Whole Foods later and we can home make some Beyond Cheesesteak?”
She gave him a big pout, eyes watery, “You just got home…”
“I thought you hated me…” He smirked, tickling her foot lightly.
“Hey!” Samira laughed, kicking at him with her other foot, even as he kept a hand firm around the ankle of the other, not letting her get away, “I only hate you because I don't like wanting the weird food. Or the morning sickness. Or the evil parts of this.”
“Takes two to tango, princess, half of this is your fault.” He teased, lifting her foot to give her ankle a little kiss.
She pointed at him accusatorily, “Shifted my IUD.”
He pointed right back, “Hadn't seen a gyno since undergrad.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, holding a beat before slowly lowering her finger. He did the same.
“Equal blame.” Samira grumbled, settling on the same conclusion these conversations lead to these days.
“Equal blame.” He nodded in agreement.
She groaned softly, opening her laptop back up.
He moved on to her other foot. “What are we reading?”
“Post surgical fistula development rates on a select group of patients in the Netherlands.”
“Were you reading out loud to the baby?”
“No…probably should start that huh?”
“Get cozy, send me the article, I'll read out loud to you both, after I figure out how to summon some veggie cheesesteak for my poor, beautiful, pregnant girlfriend.”
“...”
“What?” He raised a brow at her silent assessment of him.
“Nothing, I just love you.”
He gave her a little wink