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29 April 2007 @ 12:25 pm
The Dangers of Hormones (30 Hugs: Heiji/Kazuha)  
Title: The Dangers of Hormones
Fandom: Detective Conan
Theme: #21—sois un ange; be an angel
Pairing: Hattori Heiji/Toyama Kazuha
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan or any related characters. They belong to Gosho Aoyama. I simply throw fruit at them, take pictures, and call it modern art. Critics love me.
Summary: Pregnant women are a LOT of fun.



After two years of marriage—and two years of hinting from their own parents that ranged from subtly-dropped clues to outright demands for grandchildren—Heiji and Kazuha finally received the good news that Kazuha was pregnant. The celebration was immediate, and planning began for the new arrival.

Heiji was very careful when announcing the news, though. As his wife had told him, it was acceptable to tell people, “We are having a baby.” But she warned him that if she ever heard him utter the phrase, “We’re pregnant,” she would deck him, expecting or not. They were having a baby, but she was the pregnant one, thank you very much.

He respected that, too. After all, she had a point.

Still, Heiji considered himself relatively prepared to deal with whatever curveballs this pregnancy might throw at him. He’d had a long discussion with Kudo on the topic when he’d called to tell his friend and fellow detective the good news. Having taken care of a pregnant Ran merely a year before, Kudo’s advice was simple: expect the unexpected, and know that some of those weird rumors about pregnant women are very, very true.

The rapid mood swings really weren’t anything new. Heiji had always secretly wondered if Kazuha was slightly bipolar, going from cheery and smiling one minute to beating the hell out of him the next. With the onset of hormones, they just happened more often than usual. But really, nothing major.

The cravings were interesting, though. Once they sort of figured out what her primary food craving was, they stocked up. Their pantry cupboard held enough canned beets and green beans to feed either an entire army regiment, or a hungry pregnant woman—in this case, the latter. The supply had to be replenished regularly.

When her stomach began to grow as the months passed, Heiji assured her that she was still beautiful and he still loved her. And as childish as it seemed (to him, at least), he enjoyed lying beside her, one hand on her abdomen, feeling the movement inside her and knowing what it was and what it meant.

…and then there was the time (around the seventh month) that Heiji had come home from a police call to find Kazuha sitting on the kitchen floor, finishing off the last of a pint of Haagen-Daaz ice cream that he knew for a fact had been full when he’d left, since he’d personally purchased it and stuck it in the freezer the day before. She was crying her pretty green eyes out.

When he asked her why, she sobbed that he hadn’t kissed her goodbye before he’d left to go to his case. Thus, she had invariably concluded, he didn’t love her anymore, probably because she’d gotten so fat and it was over and on and on and on…she’d apparently been there since he’d left. Well over an hour ago.

Heiji sat down on the floor next to her and gave her a hug…and joined her.

Husband and wife had a good, long cry together.

A very long cry.

Then they had dinner.

Setting aside those odd little speed bumps, though, things were going along relatively smoothly, and Heiji was pretty sure there was nothing he couldn’t handle so far as the quirks of pregnancy went.

One thing he hadn’t counted on at all, however—something he had never even dreamed of having to deal with—was having to play guardian angel to a very pregnant woman…who seemed to have some passively suicidal tendencies. Said tendencies manifested themselves rather suddenly one day when they were out walking in the city.

Before Heiji knew what was happening, Kazuha was stepping off the sidewalk and right into the middle of very heavy traffic. He heard the squeal of brakes and some loud swearing from many a driver. Yet Kazuha seemed blissfully unaware of it, and continued happily on her way across the road.

Moving quickly, he grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the street. Once they were back to the safety of the sidewalk, he whirled on her. “Kazuha, what the hell are you doing?” he asked in a rush, giving her shoulders a shake. He wasn’t really angry so much as frightened—she could have been killed! Fortunately, those drivers were paying attention.

To his amazement, Kazuha smiled, meeting his eyes with a sort of hypnotized, glassy-eyed gaze. “They won’t hit me,” she said serenely. Her expression was that of a person experiencing some sort of drug-induced euphoria, like the floaty feeling one can get from taking prescription cough syrup.

Heiji shook his head, bewildered. “What do you mean, they won’t hit you?”

“They won’t hit me,” Kazuha repeated, gesturing to her swollen belly. “I’m pregnant.”

He stared at her for a moment longer before a possibility occurred to him. Shaking his head and muttering to himself, Heiji took his wife by the hand and led her towards their destination. He kept a firm grip on her, lest her hormones decide to make her attempt any other death-defying stunts by telling her that pregnancy would somehow protect her.

When the baby came a month and a half later—and he knew that both his wife and new daughter were safe and healthy—Heiji was relieved, to say the least. Granted, his hand was a lovely purple-black color, having served to take the brunt of Kazuha’s labor pains…but oh well.

At least she wasn’t walking out in front of speeding cars.

-o-


Three years later, a very pregnant Kazuha stood on the corner of a busy street with her young daughter at her side when little Amaya, still a mere toddler, stepped off the curb, heading straight for the rush of oncoming traffic.

Kazuha reacted as any responsible mother would. She immediately reached down and grabbed her child’s hand to pull the little girl back onto the safety of the sidewalk. “Amaya-chan,” she said in her best Mommy voice, “we don’t walk out in front of traffic. That’s dangerous.”

Holding onto her mother’s hand tightly, Amaya nodded.

Daddy didn’t need to tell Mommy not to walk out in front of cars—she already knew!



PS. This is what I call a BOATS fic: Based On A True Story. The woman in question was my mother, and the child she was pregnant with just happened to be me. She told me about it one day when we were crossing a busy street on foot, and I thought it was hilarious. This led up to the discussion about how it drives us absolutely nuts when we hear expectant fathers saying, “We’re pregnant.” No, sir, you’re not—SHE’S pregnant. I’m all for togetherness and equality and stuff, but come on.

Basically, the whole PWP story was based on things my mom told me happened to her while she was waiting for me to pop into the world, except that last little bit. She didn’t walk into the street as often when she was carrying my sister because I was usually with her. For those who don’t know, I love my Mommy ^_^ Thanks for reading—twenty percent done! Much love!