Glad for her brother’s approval, Claire turned a warm smile to Mohinder, fighting to keep a straight face as she saw his own expression of mingled bemusement and relief. She gave his hand a squeeze and nodded at his invitation. Looking to her brother briefly before they retired to the kitchen, she shrugged, earning a smirk and shrug in return.
Once she was certain they were far enough away from William’s range of hearing, Claire ran her hand across his shoulders and tilted her head at him in question. “Is everything all right? William seemed rather receptive. That’s never a bad thing.” She chuckled and shook her head slightly, still pleasantly surprised by his acceptance herself. More commonly, William relied upon his size and to bully others into getting his way, and though Claire had never had any serious suitors, she’d assumed he’d resort to the same tactics. But he’d been relaxed, if suspicious, and kept his bravado to a minimum. He had made no threats. He hadn’t yelled. It was almost disconcerting that he was so calm, but she was willing to take the win.
The faint smell of lunch brought Claire’s senses, and mind, back to the present, and she slipped into the familiar role of hostess. Grabbing the necessary silverware, Claire’s hand instinctively went to her stomach, and her eyes widened briefly as she recalled the other reason for bringing her brother over. Looking to Mohinder before she moved out of the cover the kitchen provided, Claire pursed her lips in thought. It was pointless to not share this with William today as well, but the delivery needed to be appropriate. It hadn’t occurred to her to do anything other than bluntly tell him, and given his reaction to their engagement, perhaps that wouldn’t ruffle feathers further?
“Did you have any handy doctor tricks for delivering such news?” she asked, gesturing to her midriff. Claire resisted the urge to mentally berate herself for not being prepared; pregnancy brain was, apparently, real.