Series Notes: The Silver Girls series is set in the 1960s and can be found here.
Genres: Fluff, Humor
Summary: Linda and Barbara are expecting. :)
Date Of Completion: November 4, 2010
Date Of Posting: November 16, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, DC does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 353
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Written for my LJ Fourth Anniversary Fic Request Meme for milleniumrex. Pairing: Linda/Barbara. Prompt: Expecting. :)
Linda paced back-and-forth, her arms crossing-and-uncrossing. Barbara sat on the couch, her feet up on the ottoman as she watched her lover.
Linda kept glancing over at the grandfather clock, pushing a strand of blond hair back behind her ear. She grasped a long pearl necklace and twisted it in her fingers, her boot heels clicking on the hardwood floor.
Barbara admired the view: blue shirt-sleeved shirt and skirt, white go-go boots and pearl necklace, and white bracelets that clacked as Linda moved.
“Maybe I should super-speed it.”
Barbara laughed. “Don’t worry, everything’s cool.” She patted her stomach. “Any time now.”
Linda rubbed her bicep, stealing another glance at the clock.
Barbara was wearing black Capri pants and top, glasses on the endtable by the couch next to Linda’s brown wig. Her red hair flowed over her shoulders as she waited.
“Maybe I should…”
“Relax, honey. I’m supposed to be the Nervous Nora, not you. Say, would you get me some ice cream?” Barbara’s hair blew in Linda’s super-speed wake. “And don’t forget the pickles!”
Linda returned with the requested food, and had added a Pepsi.
“You really shouldn’t eat at a time like this.”
“I’ll be fine.” Barbara patted Linda’s hand. “Don’t worry so much.”
Linda sighed and resumed pacing, Barbara humming The Lovin’ Spoonful’s latest tune. Expectation was on both women’s faces.
The doorbell rang and Linda put on her wig while practically lunging for the door, yanking it open.
“One jumbo pizza all set.”
Linda paid and tipped the delivery boy, his long, brown hair tied neatly into a ponytail, the late afternoon sun’s light glinting off his silver MIA bracelet.
“Thanks,” he said as he flashed the peace sign.
Linda closed the door and placed the pizza box on a plastic tablecloth draped over the coffee table.
“Pizza with chicken, broccoli, tomatoes, onions, peppers…”
“…and pickles, please!” Barbara sprinkled slices of pickle on her slice of pizza. “Mmm.”
Linda shook her head. “I thought I was supposed to have the cast-iron stomach.”
Barbara chuckled. “Eat up.”
Linda smiled, giving her lover a kiss, and they feasted on their pizza.
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