So, About That Night... (Septiplier AU)

Boy is on Call

If you were to be able to stop Mark long enough to ask him what the best item that he had bought during Jack's pregnancy, he would have pointed at the sneakers on his feet. Between the constant walks back and forth in the late morning for banana muffins and the late night scrambled eggs loaded with onions and cheese, Mark was becoming an expert sprinter.

"Mark?"

"Yes, angel?"

"Can I have another blueberry bagel? This one with more cream cheese?"

The blue eyes were enough to get whatever sigh Mark had in the back of his teeth swallowed to join his hurried breakfast. With another turn of his heel he was off again, with a new food order rattling in his head. At least this food was fairly normal compared the usual request. Jack had been fairly run of the mill when it came to his food choices, but now solidly in month number six, the combinations that Jack was happily placing together on plates or in bowls was bordering on criminally insane.

Granted the usual pickles and ice cream was expected. Honestly it was practically adorable, and Mark chuckled at the stereotypical quality to the request. It was the shaking of hot sauce on top of sugar filled donuts and the need to have onions and celery at every meal that cause Mark to almost head back to California for reinforcements. Ken had gone through this when Mary was pregnant with Layla, right?

"I did," Ken admitted, "but Jack's food choices are diabolical. Are you sure this isn't just an Irish thing? They're crazy enough to eat haggis."

"That's Scottish, Ken," Mark chuckled.

At the office Jack had gotten round enough that he was having trouble walking more than a few feet without leaning against the nearest wall and looking winded. Sylvia was as empathetic as she could be while still pressing healthy smoothies under the Irishman's nose whenever he started to reach for a delivery menu. To Sylvia's credit, the growls of a pregnant boss did little to stop rescuing her unborn goddaughter from an entire diet of nothing but bread, sweets and hot sauce. More times than not Mark would walk into Jack's office to see the father of his baby scowling in the general direction of his computer monitor, angrily slurping on something incredibly green or orange through a straw.

"Angel," Mark sighed as they headed out of the office on Friday. "I'm not going to sneak banana muffins into your office. Even if Sylvia wasn't watching me and Felix like hawks, there is no - "

"Just try," he pleaded, hands in the traditional begging gesture. "The woman almost killed me with the kale and almond milk smoothie this afternoon. Don't do it for me...think of the coffee bean."

The dark brown eyes going skyward was the only hint that Jack knew that Mark was not going to be part of any plan to stop Jack's personal assistant during the day, so instead the tactic turned to making sure that at least breakfast and dinners were as weird and fattening as possible. Tonight was Mark's mushroom and white cheddar risotto with a large sweet potato in cinnamon butter. The first few bites had Jack perfectly happy with the world again, and the night was filled with late night monster movies and buttery popcorn. By now, Jack had given up on trying to sit down in anything smaller than his love seat. His head snuggled into the warm chest of the man who regardless of his mood, was always feed him well, and rubbed gentle circles onto his exposed belly.

It was only the soft snore that Jack heard underneath him that made him realize that Mark had lost the battle with exhaustion this time. Even so, his strong fingers were wrapped around Jack securely, and even Sami-Ja seemed to settle in to sleep for the night. Of course only then did the need for buttermilk biscuits swimming in gravy and cheddar cheese sauce hit Jack's mind like the most incredible idea he's ever had, with his stomach giving a tremendous growl to show its agreement.

"What am I getting you now, angel," Mark grunted awake as looked down sleepily into the the slightly sheepish blue eyes. "And will it require me putting on my shoes? If so, I might need a minute."