"What do you think about children?"

The question catches Riyikith off-guard, and he blinks over at his wife. They'd been in the middle of an exchange about how their respective days went -- all right on his end, since he'd found out some rather interesting things about the petty noble he was currently assigned to keep an eye on; and apparently all right on Briana's, since she'd been out in town shopping with friends, and had her usual psionic lessons -- and that entirely unexpected question pops up. He answers with the first thing to come to mind: "Generally annoying. Better once they're old enough to hold intelligent conversations and get into loud music. Why d'you ask?"

Bri's brow arches, and he has a feeling that was the wrong answer. "Because," she says coolly, "I want some."

All Riya can do for a minute is stare, completely floored by that even more unexpected comment. "You're kidding," he says feebly. "Right?"

"No," she answers, even more coolly, but there's a telling hesitation before she adds, "Why would you think I was?"

"Bri," Riya says slowly, "we're practically still teenagers. I turned twenty, what, a month ago?"

Now it's Bri's turn to stare. "Yeah... and?"

Struggling to come up with something through his surprise, Riya manages, "Don't you wanna, like, enjoy your life before we're tied down with kids?"

"You think they'd ruin your life..." Bri says quietly, the kind of quietly that spells trouble.

Riya, probably stupidly, doesn't heed the warning. 'Ruin' might have been a bit much, but it'd certainly be a big change! "They're a huge responsibility, Bri. Huge! Like, massively huge!"

"Don't you think I know that?" Bri snaps back.

"You really think we're ready for that -- on top of everything else?" Riya shoots back, unable to believe that she's thinking about this -- after everything. "God, I'm not ready for that. I wanna enjoy myself for a few years -- things're just settling down, and you wanna start making them hard again!"

"Making them hard again?" Bri repeats, obviously really angry now. She stands up sharply. "Fine. You know what? Just enjoy your life."

"Bri!" Riya springs to his feet, too, but she's already storming off -- to the bedroom, at least, instead of out of the house, which would certainly have been possible. He knows better than to follow immediately -- he hears the door slam, followed by an audible snap that he expects signals the latch breaking. If he follows immediately, she'll just rebuff him, or he'll say something he'll regret. They've had enough spats that he knows this by now, even if this is the first actual fight they've had in a while -- unless he counts when she just yells at him to leave her alone and stop prying into what she's thinking and feeling.

Both angry and dismayed, and more than a little confused, Riya prowls around the living room, trying to think what in the world could have brought the current whim on. It hasn't been that long since she was pregnant, herself -- by a man who she hated, no less! Why should she want to go through that again -- much less so soon? She never even seemed to like children all that much, in the past. Maybe she's just dissatisfied with being married -- she sort of acts like it, most of the time -- and was hoping a kid might make him love her more, or differently, or at least keep him out of her bed, or something.

Well, the idea that children made marriages better is a total mistake, of course -- all one has to do is look at his own parents, for that -- and he doesn't think she just wants an excuse to fawn over something other than him. Maybe it's just a mood, like all her others, brought on by too many babies in town or their friend Ryan talking about trying to get pregnant. That seems like the only logical explanation -- though trying to call Briana logical, sometimes, seems a stretch.

Whatever the reason, Riya probably ought to make sure she's not in there, sobbing her heart out -- well, he knows she's not, because he can't hear her. But make sure she's all right. He finally creeps over to the bedroom door and knocks... well, on the doorframe, since knocking on the door itself would push it open, and he doesn't want to intrude too much.

It takes a moment, but then Riya can see her through the crack between broken door and door frame, approaching him. "You okay?" he asks.

Bri gives a sad little smile. "Yeah."

He's not sure he believes that, but.... "Look, just cuz I don't think we're ready or anything doesn't mean, you know, forever."

"...that's good to know."

"C'mon, you wanna go out? We'll get something to eat -- there's not really anything in the house, anyway."

She paints on a smile -- not, he thinks, a real smile. "Sure. You can pick a place." He files away the knowledge that she's probably doing the "political face" at him away to deal with later -- hopefully when she's really feeling better, after a nice dinner and good wine -- and pushes the door open to offer her a hand.

Thank god she actually takes it.

About two weeks later, Bri feels like she may never make it through this. It doesn't help that Ryan is going to get married and start on kids right away. She doesn't understand Riya's stance against children, really, either -- not emotionally.

By this time, she's found Westen's letter to Dr. Schroeder and considered just going without Riya's permission and declaring it her child, but it just wouldn't be as special without it being theirs. And it really wouldn't be fair to Riya. She has a couple ideas, but hasn't worked up the nerve to face Riya with them, hoping he isn't in the mood to pry as she opens the door at home.

Bri still has that scroll clutched in her hand, pausing to close the door quietly when she realizes that Riya's... sleeping. On the couch. That's a little odd, given how dull work has been for him lately, making him restless and excitable at home. Well, guess she'll go cook dinner. It'll keep them from going out, which will prevent her from the agony of seeing more pregnant women. She sets the scroll on the counter, trying to be quiet as she digs out things for a quick soup over the fire.

The sounds of the kitchen, and the smell of dinner, do make Riya stir. A few minutes later, he's sitting up, trying to brush back his now very messy hair, and looking around groggily. "Bri?"

Bri finishes up tossing veggies in, dumping the dishes in the sink, for now. "Just a sec." And she's around to see him shortly. "Tired?"

"Yeah. Had a rough morning."

He takes her hand and tugs on it, hard enough to get his point across. She acquiesces and sits on the couch with him readily, a little concerned. "Ugh. What happened?"

He nuzzles up into her neck sleepily, making her shoulder a nice pillow, and answers via their Kaiser-connection: ::That petty bureaucrat the spyboss sent me watching wasn't quite so petty: he had a mage bodyguard and he saw me.::

Bri's eyes widen a little, and she puts an arm around him protectively. ::That can't be good,:: she answers in kind. ::Glad you got out in one piece.:: Though she's already thinking through all the implications of them catching him.... ::Think he saw enough to recognize you?::

::See, that's why I love you. You're so sneaky.:: He kisses her neck, then sighs and settles. "How was your day?"

Bri is silent for just a half-second too long, and she knows it, but can't quite bring herself to lie so brazenly. "Uh... well, fairly normal, I guess..."

"I'm not that sleepy," he chuckles at her. "Out with it."

Bri sizes him up quickly. She doesn't want to upset him too much if he's really injured or something... and... augh. He looks fine, looks content, so she has no excuse. She turns to stare at the fire with the soup over it. "Been thinking... well, stewing, really."

"About?"

Bri gives him a quick and nearly guilty glance before she's back to the fire. "Stuff we already talked about."

Riya sits up again, though he still looks amiably amused rather than suspicious. "We talk about a lot." Well, sort of, anyway. Not so much lately. Even so, he obviously isn't getting her meaning. "Wanna clarify a little bit?"

Actually, no, she doesn't really want to, but... it's too late now. "I'm... drowning, Riya. I really thought I could change things, or ignore them, but it's getting harder all the time...."

He blinks at her. "Drowning? Bri, what's the matter?"

Bri gives him a little half-grin at her own stupidity or whatever it is. "Nothing -- everything. I just really want to be pregnant. ...isn't that stupid?"

"Ah... oh." He looks blank for a minute, then gives her a vaguely hopeless look. "It's really bothering you, huh?"

Bri breathes out a long sigh, leaning back to let the couch support her. She looks away, as she often does when discussing something about her, and talks quietly. "Ever since... well... not right when I lost the baby, but... I thought it'd go away. Hormones, or something."

"But...." He looks honestly confused. "You hated that baby.

"Hate?" She blinks back at him. "No, Riya. I was relieved when I lost it, but...." She's silent for a moment, just trying to explain what all she was feeling at the time. "I hated the father," she says at last. "I hated that it 'made' you get married to me -- and hush," she said to forestall the obvious and obviously indignant interruption, "I know you did it cuz you wanted to... eventually. But now... I don't want someone else's baby. We're already married. We have a house, and some room, and a place to have a baby. It'd be so different, this time."

Still looking bemused, and a little resigned, Riya says, "And it's really bugging you. Not being pregnant or having a brat or two running around."

Bri gives him a falsely patient look. "It's really bothering me, yes. I can hardly go into town anymore because I'm so... well, jealous!"

There's a moment of pause while Riya digests that, then he smiles a little sheepishly. "Well, I suppose if you really want... I mean, it's only twenty years or so, right? Then they're all grown up."

"Oh, Riya...." She looks to him again. That's not the point... she doesn't want to make him miserable. But there's always... that other idea. "What if... it was more like... three years?" She can hardly believe she's bringing it up.

He blinks at her. "Well, that's not exactly possible, is it?"

Bri hasn't really had time to work it all out, herself, so she shrugs in response. "I know Ryan has been kind of looking at a dragon-bond like Comar'ssavi, and that accelerated aging comes up a lot. And Comar'ssavi's parents couldn't even have babies... because she was a phoenix." That thought has severely troubled Bri -- it could explain her miscarriage, after all.

"Like... you mean use that genetics thing?" He catches on quickly, this time. "But I thought you wanted to be pregnant. Do they do the pregnancy thing there?"

"I... don't know." She glances to the scroll on the counter. "I have to go anyway to deliver a letter... we could always ask."

"Would you be okay with doing something like that?" he persists seriously. "If you won't be pregnant, you'd only get a kid for three years before they grew up -- and you'd be giving away a good portion of the kids they make there to other parents?"

That's a point. Bri hasn't really thought about giving her children away... but -- there were always folks like her dad, and they were screened.... "I don't know. Three years would be awful short...." And she's not at all sure she could handle the 'not being pregnant' part, but she'd like to at least ask Dr. Schroeder about it.

"Could always ask for longer, if they did that," Riya shrugs. "I mean, kids of ours would naturally grow up like most people. You think on it a bit, then we can go talk to whoever we're talking to."

She gives Riya a quick kiss on the cheek, relieved, since she wasn't about to go ahead with anything unless he's at least mostly on board. "I hope they inherit your temper instead of mine." Little explodey kids would be kind of annoying.

Riya laughs. "Let's hope. I might not know how to handle a whole batch of little angry Bri-clones. I have enough trouble with one of you!" He does hug her shoulders, though, making sure she knows he's teasing. "Um, condition here, though."

Bri gives him a curious little glance. "What's that?"

"I'm not making more fire-dragons. You've got more than enough of that, and... I really don't want any kids looking and acting like my dad, you know?"

"Riya, that's about all I have..." she points out tentatively, unless he means specifically Fire dragons, like his father.

"I mean...." He pauses, searching for an explanation, then says, "I'm technically born a fire dragon. I can shift it and everything -- not that I ever do, not since I got Kethron. But that's just... not how I see myself anymore."

"I don't know if we can do that -- we can ask about that, too? I'm not exactly a magma dragon, either," she admits with a smirk.

To her surprise -- though it probably shouldn't be, given his tendency to speak up at random -- Kethron interrupts the conversation. ::Oh, I'm sure we can help out with that,:: he comments, sounding positively cheerful.

::Agreed,:: Vukon, her own kaiser, adds. ::As long as there are no other phoenixes made. That could be... dangerous.::

::Oh, come on now,:: Kethron chides the fiery spirit laughingly, though audible to both living dragons, as well. ::They're not making clones, they're making hybrids. It'd be as if you and I had children, with Briana and Riyikith's personality thrown in for kicks.::

Riya puts in dryly, "Thank god. More Kethrons running around?"

There is a pause as Vukon considers, then he says, in all seriousness, ::I'm certain our children would be beautiful.::

::Oh, Vukon, I never realized you felt that way,:: Kethron croons teasingly.

Bri laughs. She can't believe they're talking like this. "Maybe I'll let you all handle this and I'll sit back and relax."

::Really, you two,:: Kethron says, more seriously, ::you just take whichever form's traits you'd like to pass on for when they draw the blood, and that's the genetics that will be involved in the clutch.::

Well... could be fun. She smirks at Riya. "This should be one of the weirdest experiences we've ever had."

Star City blew Jolann out of the water, there is no doubt about it in Riyikith's mind. It's like every science fiction novel he's ever read, or movie he's ever seen, come to life -- only cooler. It even makes old San Francisco look a little sad and pathetic. So when he takes Bri out to dinner the night after their conversation with Doctor Schroeder of the Abstract Destiny, it is definitely on Star City that they do it.

Unfortunately, he has to stop reveling in the surroundings long enough to have a serious conversation with his wife about genetically engineered offspring. After they get settled and make their orders, he pops the question: "So. What do you think about all of it, then?"

Despite her disappointment over not being able to carry her own child -- the geneticist had been adamant about that -- and her misgivings over "giving away" the majority of the children, Bri doesn't hesitate when she says, "I want to do it."

"Okay," Riya nods. "Any particular conditions we want to give, or whatever?"

After a brief hesitation, Bri says, "I don't want too many. Thirty is... way too many."

Well, at least they agree on something, here. "What's a good limit, then? Ten? Fifteen? And how many do we want to take home?"

"Somewhere in there, I guess... and, honestly? All of them." She grins at the impossibility. "Two, if I can convince you of it. One if I can't."

"We'll, er, see what the firstborn's like then decide on how many, how's that?" He wanted to make sure he can stand the buggers, first. He hasn't had a lot of experience with children in the past. "So ten to fifteen, total."

"Deal," Bri smiles.

All right, next subject. "Do you wanna go with his standard three years, or bid for longer?"

"I'd like to enjoy them for a bit longer than that... how long do you think you could stand it?" she teases.

Riya shrugs, not yet rising to the bait. This is supposed to be a serious conversation, after all. "Hey, as long as you don't forget about me, I'm patient. Hell, for all I know, I'll enjoy it. But don't think you're getting out of being a wife just because you get to be a mother, okay?" Though he's ostensibly not being serious, he can't help but actually be a bit worried about that. He married her for her, not whatever bratlings she might produce, and it's easy to imagine that her obsession with having said bratlings could turn into an obsession with raising them that quite left him out of the picture.

"Hey, my mom never forgot about my dad," Bri points out. "Really, I appreciate it. Probably more if yer a good dad, too. And you would be. Will be."

Riya's not as sure as she is, but he shrugs and grins nonetheless. "I don't exactly know anything about your parent's sex life or numbers of nights out a week, ya know. But you're welcome."

Taken off-guard, Bri stares for a moment. "You know... I don't even want to know."

Riya laughs. "Suppose not. Well, we'll see what the doctor has to say, then, how's that?"

"Deal," Bri says again, grinning. "So when are we going back in?"

"When do you want to?" Riya grins, back. The hopeful expression is answer enough, and he laughs again. "After dinner, then. Think you can wait that long?"

"Maybe," Bri answers -- but thankfully, she does.