Teddy nodded as he cracked the eggs and poured them into the skillet. “We could do that. I move the heavy stuff and you can paint. Did you want to move the entertainment system into our bedroom?” God knew they had the room for it. And seeing as the gaming TV didn’t need a cable hookup, they could put the entire set up against one of the spare walls.
"Pfft, paint, he says." She giggled softly. "You still don’t trust my magic while I’m like this, do you? It’s not my fault my stupid morning sickness affected my spells, too. I got the smell out, didn’t I?"
Humming as she leaned back a little to stretch her back—which had started aching of late, these twins were going to be the death of her and she was barely even showing—she smiled. “We could do that. That way when I get all huge I can lie in bed and finally get the 100% completion in Skyrim.”
"No, I don’t. And god only knows how casting affects the babies." God that was something he never wanted to experience again. It had taken Billy hours after that to change their bed back from the twisted mangled thing his magic had turned it into, not to mention replace the random street sign that had crashed onto their floor and left a huge dent.
"And there’s nothing more satisfying than finishing a project with your own two hands." He pulled the now scrambled eggs off of the burner, setting them aside before making the bacon. "Besides, the murals are best when they are painted by hand."
Billy huffed, making a face at him. “But I did fix it. Besides, when one is in the process of puking up one’s guts, one doesn’t necessarily have full control of their magical-slash-reality-warping faculties.” She pushed a flyaway lock of hair out of her eyes. “It can’t affect them that badly, they seem happy enough to elbow me in the kidney every once in a while.”
Not five seconds after the bacon hit the pan, Billy was off the counter and dashing for the downstairs bathroom. Retching, followed by a low, agonized groan floated back from the open doorway. “Just know that for this, your death shall be slow and painful, Teddy Altman,” she mumbled, knowing he’d hear her perfectly well. She also knew that he could tell when she was being facetious, which is why she was totally nonchalant after flushing, rinsing her mouth at the sink and coming back out to sit as far away from the kitchen as possible, in the corner of the couch.