"Trevor," he drawled, voice lazy with morning calm. "You do realize it's not even eight? Someone better be dead."
"Give it time," Trevor replied smoothly.
Dax hummed, amused despite himself. "So. What catastrophe have you engineered now?"
There was a moment of silence, and the heartbeat stretched longer than necessary.
"Lucas is pregnant."
The fork stilled completely.
That was the smallest glitch in the smooth control. But Chris felt it through the bond like the faint quake beneath solid ground.
Joy mixed with hunger and an ache he never allowed breath.
Then Dax smiled with warmth, his mask sliding back into place like it had never left.
"…it's about time," he said lightly.
On the other end of the line, Trevor sputtered. "That's it?!"
"Please," Dax replied. "I've seen how you look at him. You'd declare war on the sun if it made him squint. I was only waiting for your self-control to shatter."
Chris watched him.
