(no subject)
For once, the bookcase is being obliging.
Nearly into her third trimester, and it's one of those days that the heat's getting to her. Ianto would rather she stayed home altogether but she never quite manages that. Instead, she's lying on one of the couches in the rec-room, feet elevated, damp cloth on her forehead and a dog lying under her bent knees. There's paperwork for the school in a neat pile beside her, some art projects waiting to be graded in another but, for the moment, she's pretty absorbed in the book that was waiting for her.
She never saw herself as one of those girls who'd get absorbed in a book of baby-names, but there you go.
She flips a page one way and then back again, looking at the list labeled WELSH GIRLS' NAMES. Her nose wrinkles slightly and she presses the back of her hand against her forehead, like some kind of wilting Southern Belle.
Creiddylad, Meredydd, Myfanawy, Heulwens.
She pulls a face and groans softly, letting the book drop to her chest and covering her eyes with her free hands.
"That's it, Banon," she groans softly. "I'm doomed to never be able to pronounce her damn name."
Nearly into her third trimester, and it's one of those days that the heat's getting to her. Ianto would rather she stayed home altogether but she never quite manages that. Instead, she's lying on one of the couches in the rec-room, feet elevated, damp cloth on her forehead and a dog lying under her bent knees. There's paperwork for the school in a neat pile beside her, some art projects waiting to be graded in another but, for the moment, she's pretty absorbed in the book that was waiting for her.
She never saw herself as one of those girls who'd get absorbed in a book of baby-names, but there you go.
She flips a page one way and then back again, looking at the list labeled WELSH GIRLS' NAMES. Her nose wrinkles slightly and she presses the back of her hand against her forehead, like some kind of wilting Southern Belle.
Creiddylad, Meredydd, Myfanawy, Heulwens.
She pulls a face and groans softly, letting the book drop to her chest and covering her eyes with her free hands.
"That's it, Banon," she groans softly. "I'm doomed to never be able to pronounce her damn name."