Push Past had never, ever, ever thought that she would be in this position. Not that she hadn't thought about maybe perhaps possibly wanting to be in this position someday, but there was always so much work, and everything was always so busy, and it wasn't like she was out and about meeting new people every day. She had long come to accept that spring didn't come to all Kin – least of all, Kin as stoic and stodgy and boring as her.
But then a buck had come. A nice one. Nice to her. And…things had happened. And here she was, in this position she had never, ever, ever thought she would be in.
Which, to be precise, was hovering outside the entrance of Rise & Co., waiting for a resident legendary to show up.
When the sun finally began to break, it lit a shadow sauntering down the path. It was Cue. Thank Swamp it was Cue. Cue, she could handle.
"You have to help me," she hissed, running up to the shadow and dragging her into the bushes.
"We're, uh," Cue said, "almost at the store."
"Not there," she hissed, "everyone's there. If Rise finds out, everyone will know. I can't do that. I'm not ready."
"Not ready for –" the realisation hit Cue mid-snap; her jaw dropped, "ohhhh.
"Ohhhhhh.
"Push."
She might have smirked.
"Don't look at me like that," Push would have wailed, but she'd never wailed a day in her life, so she just continued hissing, instead, "see, that's why I'm not ready."
And then she stopped herself just in time, because not only would saying, Because of assholes like you be impolite, it would probably also not help her cause.
"Our widdle Push," the smirk widened, and she regretted not saying it, "do we get to meet him?"
"No," she hissed, then she paused, "I don't know. I'm leaning towards 'no' because of your behaviour right now, just so you know."
"I'll be good," the smirk was diabolical, "we'll all be good. Rise would so so love to meet him. Oh – oh – Auntie Fade would sooooo love to meet him."
If the colour could drain from her face, it would.
"I am not bringing anyone home to meet my mother," she pronounced.
"Fair," Cue shrugged, because she wouldn't wish Auntie Fade upon any poor sap, and she wasn't even her mother, "the babies will distract her enough."
And there it was. The rub of it. The thought made her squirm, and she wasn't sure with what.
"I suppose you want a blessing?" Cue said.
"Yes," she said, "because the – they'll need all the help they can get."
"Well, that's a great attitude to start off your motherhood," Cue said.
"Like you're one to talk," she was back to hissing.
"Yeah, no," Cue shrugged again, "I was awful. Amazing the little buggers turned out okay, to be honest. But you're generally a much better person than I am."
"That doesn't mean I'll make a good m-mother."
She thought she'd only barely stumbled over the word, but Cue gave her a penetrating look with those glowing, Swamp-touched eyes.
"Do you want to be?"
The colour would have rushed to her face, if it could. Instead she just stood there, looking intensely embarrassed.
"You'll be fine," Cue said, "that's more than I wanted and mine are alright. Bless your kids. Alright. There. Now can we get out of the bushes?"
The stupefaction rendered her silent until Cue had thoroughly jostled them both back onto the path.
"That's it?!" she said, when Cue started sauntering on, "isn't there supposed to be a task or something?! Aren't you supposed to ask for traits?!"
"Give me a break," Cue said, "you caught me at dawn. I haven't even hit up Coughing Bean yet. Swamp."
"Does it even work like that?! Just what did you bless them with?! Hey! They're my kids, you know!"
"They're blessed. They're blessed! It's all the same, they'll be okay."
And what Cue didn't say was, if she was going on about it like that, so would she.
END