A/N: This is also one from one of the prompts I asked for on my LJ. Procrastinator-starting2morrow drew a great picture and after I commented on it, she wanted me to use that picture and my comment as her prompt. So here is the result. This a Lily/James drabble.
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I honestly think I'm going to kill my husband. Married not even a year yet and already I'm ready to kill. Which I've heard is unusual since mum had said that usually didn't happen until the second year or so. I suppose I have to be an overachiever with everything.
Any fears I might have had about James not taking the news of my pregnancy well have fled hours ago, about the time he showed me his new purchase - a camera.
I'm barely three months pregnant, not even showing and he bought a camera to take pictures of me in all my soon-to-be bloated glory and eventually of the baby. I made the mistake of thinking it was cute instead of nipping it in the bud and hiding the film. And I guess it was cute at first until James loaded the camera and began shouting, "Work it! Work those towels baby, yeah!" or "Pretend I'm not here, pretend I'm not here, and work that wand! Ooo - so hot!" all while snapping away.
Six whole rolls and half an hour later here I am sitting at the kitchen table in desperate need of a wee and James is blocking my exit to the loo.
My legs are clenched together and I'm scowling (actually at this point it's more like a vacant yet pained grimace trying to be a scowl), but James seems to think this is even sexier than folding laundry and keeps shouting, "Pout for me love!" when I feel I'm about to piss my knickers.
"James," I interrupted softly.
"Yes love?" he asked, distracted by reloading the camera with the last roll of film in the house (thank Merlin!).
"If you don't let me go to the lav in ten seconds, I will take that camera and permanently shove it in one of your out holes. I'll be generous and let you choose."
James made a cute little meep noise he usually makes when he's truly afraid and stepped aside.
I leapt up and bolted for the loo making it just in time. Whoever said that women's bladders aren't really affected by the baby until their late second trimester lied.
Caught up in the relief of successfully not reverting back to a toddler, I didn't notice the door opening until its squeaky hinge creaked loudly. "JAMES!" I shrieked milliseconds before the flash went off.
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