Rated: R (to be safe)
Warning: A bit of naughtiness
A/N: I survived another week! :D
When working at Gringotts, Fleur had seen Bill constantly. They'd eaten lunch together every day, sometimes with friends, but sometimes only with each other. They'd shared stolen kisses in their offices, secret looks during meetings, and there was that one time in their vault . . . Fleur allowed herself to daydream. Now that she thought of it, that particular time quite likely caused her current situation.
Fleur sighed. Being on leave, she missed Bill dreadfully. And she needed to use the loo. Again. Putting aside her knitting, she grasped the arms of her chair, and wrestled herself to a standing position. Clasping her hands under her gigantic belly, she waddled to the bathroom.
Upon returning, she slumped into her armchair, exhausted. After only a week at home, Fleur had knitted two blankets, half a dozen pairs of booties, a sweater, and several small caps—everything in pink and white, although Bill insisted they were having a boy. Fleur just shook her head and laughed. "I 'ope you will come soon, little one." Fleur caressed The Bump. She couldn't help but smile at Bill's name for their unborn child. Thanks to Molly's teaching, she certainly wasn't bored, but she still missed her husband.
Fleur needed a way to feel connected to Bill while they were apart during the day. He would be at home for the weekend. Hopefully Fleur would think of something before Monday.
Sitting at his desk, Bill pulled out the lunch basket Fleur had packed for him that morning. He had never brought his lunch to work, but as his dad had drummed into his head not to argue with your very pregnant wife no matter what she wants you to do, he did today. Actually, reflecting on some of the stories his dad told him about his mum, Bill thought he got off quite easily with only being told to bring his lunch to work and eat it alone in his office.
He opened the basket and gasped. Fleur had packed his favorite lunch foods; homemade Egyptian pita bread, Double Gloucester, a large pickle, and chocolate biscuits. Wow. Fleur hated Double Gloucester, so she'd bought it just for him. Bill smiled as he picked up the pickle, under which was hidden an envelope.
Bill opened the envelope, removing a lipstick-kissed napkin which smelled like Fleur's perfume. Bill inhaled deeply, and opened the note, taking a bite of pickle as he started to read.
I knew you would select the pickle first, so I hid the note there. Although I would much rather be kissing your lips than a napkin, I wanted to give you a reminder of all of the kisses we have shared at work, to tide you over until this evening when I can kiss you properly.
As you are eating the pickle, imagine my mouth surrounding your . . ."
Bill dropped the note as he started to choke. Now he understood why Fleur told him to eat alone. He couldn't wait to get home.