Dec. 10th, 2011

inch_high_pi: (The dog and his bitch)
They'd done it.

She hoped to put the disaster of it behind her, but by some miracle, the child was well and whole and perfect in her arms. It had slithered from her wailing and squirming and wrinkled, flushed purple and covered in goo, but she'd fallen in love in an instant, just as all those cliches said she would.

Now, she was exhausted and aching, safe and warm in the clinic, her baby swaddled and dozing in her arms. She'd napped just enough that she was ready for visitors, for the parade of well-wishers, friends and family eager to catch a glimpse.

[[Tag Nina, or tag George's toplevel. You're welcome to visit them any time the evening of the 10th, in the main clinic, near what used to be The Compound.]]

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