~ ANOTHER Otayuri Mpreg, a mafia AU, and, yes, I am thoroughly DISGUSTED with myself for writing this. Oh well. Here you go!

(This isn't really relevant but when I post Otayuri mpreg it'll always be Pregnant!Yuri because, yeah. No one cares but I thought I'd put it out there ♥)

***

"I don't like this," Otabek murmured as he and Yuri made their way into the building, taking in their surroundings and talking under their breath.

"I know you don't," Yuri replied, "but it's necessary. There's nothing either of us can do about it; we both know this is the only option, and we've been working for so long."

"I know," Otabek put an arm around his husband, gently pulling him closer. "But you shouldn't be here; it's not safe. I don't know what they were thinking; sending you into this, in your condition." Yuri rolled his eyes gently; if they'd been over this once they'd been over this ten thousand times and Otabek still vehemently hated the idea. Not that Yuri could truly blame him.

"It was my idea," Yuri reminded him, slowing the pace slightly, "this is the best cover we have; if we have a shot in hell, this is it." And when Otabek didn't meet his eyes, "I'll be careful, I promise."

Stopping and bringing his hand up to his husband's face, Yuri tilted it down toward him where he stood a good half-a-head shorter than him, and brought him in for a kiss. Otabek's arms fell around Yuri's middle and he softened under his lips.

"I just worry," he murmured, breaking the contact and pressing their foreheads together as he gazed down. Yuri followed his eyes and set a gentle hand against his abdomen, swollen and keeping them a good foot or so apart as it rested heavily between them.

"It'll be fine, I won't even be there for the takedown." Yuri smiled softly as Otabek's hand met his own on his stomach and a kick met the contact, "I'll be in the offices, where it's safe,"

He rolled his eyes at the last part, not at all keen to be missing the action but aware of the necessity of it. They were already taking a huge risk as it was, not that he'd voice his acknowledgement of that fact before Otabek, of course.

"There you two are! I thought we'd lost you," The couple broke apart as the voice called out and they looked up to see Jean-Jacques Leroy striding toward them with a broad smile on his face. Yuri suppressed an eye roll;

Of course, it was him.

"Nope," Otabek replied, "We're here,"

"It had to be him?" Yuri whined under his breath to his husband who just sent him a raised eyebrow, though the amused glint in his eye betrayed him. He'd always had more patience with JJ's antics than Yuri had. On more than one occasion Yuri had actually hit him; it was far too convenient to just blame it on the extensive training they had to undergo, but anyone who knew them knew the truth. JJ never seemed too phased by it.

"I'm glad you are," JJ replied, turning with a motion for them to follow him, which they did. "You need to be briefed and given the outfits you'll wear." This time Yuri did roll his eyes:

Briefed? We've been on this case since day one -- three damn years ago -- and were the ones to plan and execute this whole fucking thing. Briefed? Please.

While JJ was busy chattering away ahead of them, Otabek didn't miss this subtle motion and shared an amused grin with Yuri as if to say: I know; silly.

Silly is one way to put it, Yuri thought, stupid is another, but he stayed silent.

They arrived outside one of the multitudes of conference rooms housed inside the building and JJ opened the door for them, as if they couldn't have done it themselves-- they've only worked here for seven years, but stood back to let them pass. Yuri couldn't help but smirk; he wasn't allowed in, not high enough security clearance.

The briefing was fairly straight forward; mainly: don't blow your cover, if anyone suspects anything, play stupid, if it's dangerous, get out, kind of thing-- standard protocol. It's not like they needed it, they were two of the top agents at the facility and this was all rookie stuff but Yuri assumed that it just came with the territory of the job; cover your ass. Just in case they don't listen and get blown up, you can't be blamed because you told them.

It was only when they got to the very end that they moved away from the standard, waste of time, I-could-recite-this-word-for-word-verbatim-on-command type shit that things became interesting.

In a manner of speaking.

"Yuri," the woman leading the meeting turned to him, fixing him with a stern gaze. "We called you to do this but by no means does that mean we underestimate the risks you're taking. We acknowledge that this is very dangerous as it is, and even more so for you in your-- condition, and for those reasons, I think it would be best to put some extra precautions in place."

Yuri glanced toward Otabek, not having been expecting this, "Okay...? What are these precautions?"

"No combat." The woman said immediately and Yuri rolled his eyes,

"Because I'd be so useful as it is," A small smile cracked the woman's professional exterior and she chuckled.

"Point taken." She conceded before continuing with a slightly softer demeanour. "But furthermore, if the target seems aware that anything is amiss or shows any signs at all of aggression, I want you out of there immediately."

Yuri huffed a small sigh but nodded, knowing how important this was and that even if this hadn't been mentioned Otabek would hold him to do it anyway.

"That said," the woman continued, turning to Otabek this time, "with the assurance that we are doing our utmost to keep him from harm, under no circumstances are you allowed to break cover unless you receive orders from us to or the target has already been apprehended or incapacitated in some other way." Essentially: dead. "This means, in short," The woman seemed to be bracing herself for what would come next and Yuri was immediately on guard. "That if something should happen and you've not received orders to abort, you simply cannot come to Yuri's aid if you think he needs it."

"What!" And there it is. "That's ridiculous; we're undercover together, it would be stranger if I didn't!"

"But you'll be apart for extended periods of time," The woman replied evenly, looking like she felt deeply uncomfortable. "If you interrupt something important or miss something, it'll endanger both of your lives, as well as the mission."

"The mission? That's what's important to you here?"

"Beka, stop it," Yuri cut in, pulling his attention from the woman who, if looks served, wanted to be anywhere but here, "this isn't anything new. It's standard protocol: don't endanger the mission, if lives are sacrificed so be it. We already knew that; nothing's changed."

Otabek still looked upset and opened his mouth to argue before Yuri cut him off again.

"We knew the risks." Yuri said firmly, "And this is all worst-case scenario type stuff. Just think of the pay off! We'll get to see Turgenev behind bars after this, that's been the goal for years, we can't stop now. We signed up for this, remember?" Otabek still looked torn and very likely to argue but grudgingly nodded.

The woman looked relieved and sent a small nod in Yuri's direction. Her meaning couldn't be clearer: thank you!

"If that's it, we'll be going?" Yuri asked the room at large, thinking it wise not to stay here much longer in case Otabek got a second wind.

"Yes," The woman said hastily, "You'll be outfitted for today in 201-- Mila's already waiting for you there. Otabek, you're just next door." The pair nodded and rose, Yuri with poorly hidden difficulty, and left the room.

"Why is it that even after we're married they always separate us for this stuff? It's not like we haven't seen it before-- hell, half of our incoming class has seen it."

Otabek laughed, "I know. Privacy, I guess?" He shrugged, "But I can't help but find it funny that Mila's doing our disguises; one of the best agents this institution has ever seen-- stuck behind a rack."

Yuri laughed, "True. But you know she's better than the old hag they normally have doing it." Yuri shuddered at the thought, "Her hands are like prunes, and she's always so cold-- like what the fuck!" They both chuckled as they made their, albeit slow, way to their destinations. "You know what this means, though, right?" Yuri continued and Otabek quirked an eyebrow "If I've got Mila, that means you'll be stuck with Georgi!" Yuri laughed and Otabek let out a small groan, envisioning sequins in his near future.

They parted at their respective doors, and, true to Yuri's prediction, as Otabek's swung shut he heard the distinctive plaintive quality of Georgi's voice. Poor bastard.

"Yu~ri!" Mila sing-songed as Yuri stepped through the door. "Look at you!" She all but squealed as she took in his ever-increasing girth. Yuri rolled his eyes but allows a small smile to cross his face,

"Yeah, yeah, Baba. Calm down, I'm supposed to be here for today's disguise, remember?"

"Killjoy," Mila shot back at him but her smile never faded. "Okay..." She murmured, eyeing the few articles of clothing on the rack before her. "So I think this'll work-- try it on." She handed Yuri a womens' pantsuit with black slacks and a matching blazer over a simple formal blouse.

Yuri nodded; they'd agreed ages ago that he'd go into this assignment as a woman. It only made sense; between his already feminine appearance: golden, shoulder-blade length hair, dazzling green eyes, dark lashes, and feminine features, and his current state: pregnant, it would be easiest to make him into a woman. It was easiest that way; it was becoming rarer and rarer with each generation for men to possess the ability to carry children, and since he was married to Otabek, as masculine as they come, this was the best cover. Plus, switching genders just added one more layer of security between their covers and their identities.

Yuri didn't mind; it'd be a dead give away if they kept him the same, but he was decidedly against the extra care they had to put into his appearance now he was supposed to possess some societally valued bullshit sense of 'fashion.'

Whatever the fuck that meant.

He didn't have much trouble with the clothing; it was all maternity, obviously, and the pants had a stretchy waist with an elastic panel that went over the bulge of his stomach, and the shirt was fine-enough, even if the stitching was uncomfortable, but the blazer was another issue entirely.

"Is this current?" Yuri asked Mila as she watched him struggle to button the stupid thing over his abdomen.

"The measurements should be," She murmured, pouring over the small notebook where she kept all her information. "They were only taken last week and we allowed some wiggle room-- does it really not fit?" Yuri gritted his teeth as he managed to get the first two buttons done, and watched them anxiously as they strained against where they fitted into the holes in the other side of the fabric.

"It fits..." He conveniently neglected to mention just how tight it was on his already sore abdomen. It wouldn't work without the blazer and Mila couldn't make adjustments on this short notice. "How bad does it look?" He asked and Mila pursed her lips, looking him up and down from where the fabric was straining against his stomach.

"Say the tailor screwed up," She decided eventually, "It's partially true, and it'll add to the sympathy value-- it makes you look bigger than you actually are." Yuri nodded, grimacing down at his oversized stomach, smoothing the cloth over it.

Now the outfit was settled, they moved on to shoes.

Grinning like a demon, Mila removed from behind the rack a pair of pink, sparkling, ten-inch, stiletto heels. Yuri blanched.

"Are you high?" She let out a cackle of laughter and returned the heels to their place on the rack,

"I saw them and couldn't resist," She giggled, reaching back and holding out a pair of ankle boots. "Better?"

"Better," Yuri agreed, and put them on, twisting awkwardly to the side to get around his bump which had grown so large in its nine months of existence that he could no longer see, much less touch, his feet.

Mila looked like she's sorely tempted to laugh but Yuri shot her a scathing glare and she tactfully -- for once -- turned back to the rack, arranging the clothes unnecessarily to give him a second of perceived privacy.

He'd just gotten one on and was twisting to reach the other foot, operating blind, when he suddenly let out a small gasp.

A... pressure was pushing in from his back to his abdomen, not unlike the false contractions he'd been experiencing increasingly frequently throughout the past few months, but more intense.

"Yuri?" Mila looked around the clothing, concern written on her face, as Yuri let out a slow breath and relaxed onto the couch he was seated on, his hand on his abdomen in an attempt to soothe the unwelcome sensation.

"I'm fine," he murmured, "It's just those damn Braxton Hicks." She surveyed him with worry in her eyes and he regretted making any noise at all, though it had been involuntary. "I'm fine." He said firmly, "Now," he sighed, "Help me with this," he lifted the shoe still in his hand, "I need to go and I'll be late if this keeps up." Still eyeing him suspiciously, Mila came over and secured the boot, offering a hand he reluctantly took to help him to his feet.

"Are you sure you're alright?" She asked him again, "If there's ever a day to be sure you're not going into labor, it's this one." Yuri merely rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine." He said firmly, and, as a knock sounded on the door, "and I'm late. I've got to go." Mila watched him go with worry in her eyes. "Thanks!" He called over his shoulder as he met Otabek in the hallway.

"Ready?" His husband asked and Yuri nodded.

"Let's go."

***

The pair enter Ireot Inc. forty-five minutes later, talking quietly and looking around at their new -- temporary -- workplace. The lobby is nice, fancy enough to live up to the prestige this company is associated with, and huge, swarming with workers going about their mornings.

Walking slowly to accommodate Yuri's lovely, newfound "waddling" gait, (Yuri hated it; Otabek thought it's adorable) the pair made their way to the check-in desk, requesting their company IDs since it was their first day.

Their cover was actually perfect: since Ireot Inc. just absorbed another, smaller, multi-million dollar company, they were in the middle of a merger; there were tons of actual, new employees coming to work in the building, and Yuri and Otabek blended right in as a pair of them.

The couple was passing a small sitting area (the kind all big companies and hotels had, strewn with artfully placed couches and coffee tables) when Yuri paused, hissing a breath in through his teeth slightly, hand moving to his abdomen.

"Are you okay?" Otabek asked immediately, watching Yuri's motions and looking concerned. "A contraction? We can go home--"

Yuri shook his head, "No, I'm fine," he rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "We're not missing our first day because of more Braxton Hicks-- I get these all the time, it's no big deal."

Otabek didn't look convinced, watching Yuri with a keen eye, and, in an attempt to dissuade his worries, Yuri started walking again, holding in the grimace that threatened to appear on his face as the pressure grew with movement.

"Hold on," Otabek said, catching Yuri's arm gently and stopping him, "How about I go get the new IDs and you sit down a second; there's a line at check-in and I know your feet hurt, I can see it in the way you move."

Yuri huffed quietly, though the idea did appeal to him, "I'm fi--"

"Of course you are," Otabek said, gently guiding him toward the couches, "But you can be fine sitting down too."

Yuri stuck out his tongue but let himself be maneuvered to stand next to one of the loveseats. "Overprotective..." He murmured and Otabek winked, before heading off to check-in-- walking quickly, so Yuri wouldn't follow.

Yuri shook his head at his husband's antics, a soft smile on his face, and, admitting defeat, glanced at the sofa behind him. Carefully, his movements measured, Yuri reached an arm back to grasp the back of the couch, before planting his feet and beginning to lower himself precariously down. He'd only gotten about an inch lower, though, when the couch scooted slightly, and he was thrown off-balance. His position now very bad, Yuri glanced over toward Otabek, to see that he was facing the other direction, only having advanced two places in the winding, serpentine line. He was stuck.

Yuri let out a breath slowly as he tried to maneuver back to standing but wobbled, and,

"Oh!" Yuri found himself being supported by a stranger, a man's large hand on the small of his back, and another on his upper arm.

"Here," the man said, and Yuri went cold. He knew that voice. The man gently helped ease him down onto the sofa, before stepping forward to converse with Yuri properly. Just as Yuri had expected, he was face to face with Alexei Turgenev, the assassin who had single-handedly taken the lives of 46 people for the mafia elite, working under the guise of Ireot Inc. "Sorry about that," the man said, "You just looked like you needed some help and I kind of just moved without thinking."

Resuming his character, Yuri shook his head, waving away Alexei's apology. "Don't worry-- thank you for catching me; I'm afraid I would've taken a nosedive if you hadn't intervened." Both Yuri and the man laughed.

"Alexei," he said, offering a hand, "Alexei Turgenev."

Yuri smiled and shook it, "Yulianna Tolyev, but Yuli to anyone who knows me." He assumed the fake identity as easily breathing, one of his -- many -- merits as a spy working for the Russian government-- he was an excellent actor. "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Alexei replied, smiling as well, "Do you mind if I ask how far along you are?"

Yuri shook his head, "Not at all. 37 weeks yesterday," he rubbed his bump, "It's only four weeks left, God help me."

Alexei laughed, "I can't say I feel your pain, I've never been pregnant myself, but my wife had twins two summers ago-- I remember how difficult it was for her during the last few months."

Yuri's face went pale. "Twins?" He shook his head slightly, "One is hard enough-- I can't imagine having to do two." He shuddered slightly.

Alexei nodded in agreement, "I don't know how Lili did it, I doubt I could." He pulled out his phone and showed Yuri a photo of two little girls with curly, brunette pigtails sitting on either side of a raven-haired woman, all smiling at the camera. "It was worth it though," Alexei continued, "Katya is on the left and Mia on the right, my wife, Lili, in the center."

Yuri smiled softly, "They're adorable," he said, before pulling out his own phone, opening it to the lock screen to show a grainy, black and white image. "This is Luci," he said, "As of fifteen days ago."

Alexei smiled as well, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Congratulations."

Yuri nodded, "Thank you," he replied, "likewise, though belated, in your case."

He laughed, "Thank you." Alexei was about to say something else, but paused, looking at something behind Yuri.

He turned, then smiled. "Sasha!" He said immediately, recalling Otabek to the situation, and using the codename he'd been assigned as a plea to stay in fucking character.

Otabek looked at Yuri, finally taking his eyes off of Alexei, who was looking between them. Yuri grabbed Otabek's arm and pulled him around the couch to sit next to him, squeezing Otabek slightly as he did so.

"Alexei," Yuri said, "This is my husband, Alexander, Sasha, Tolyev. Sasha, this is Alexei Turgenev-- he saved me from certain humiliation earlier."

At the introduction, Alexei relaxed and offered Otabek a smile as well, "Nice to meet you," he said, holding out a hand, "I hope you don't mind, I've just been getting to know your lovely wife." Yuri's insides lurched at "wife", but luckily his face didn't show it.

Otabek smiled, shaking Alexei's hand, "Good to meet you. Thank you for helping Yuli, I appreciate it-- she's too stubborn to let me do much most of the time so I'm glad to see that it only applies to me." He shot Yuri a playful look, and Yuri mock-gasped.

"It doesn't only apply to you," Yuri shot back, smacking Otabek on the arm, "I'm only stubborn," he made air quotes around it with his fingers, as if to ridicule the mere idea. "When you're being overprotective."

It was Otabek's turn to feign insult."Me? Overprotective? Never!" The pair was brought out of their little game when Alexei laughed, watching them with amusement sparkling in his eyes.

Yuri, to his character, blushed slightly, and offered a bright smile. "Sorry about that," he said, elbowing Beka casually in the side and smirking when he got an indignant "oof!" for his efforts. "Sasha gets carried away sometimes."

"Me?"

Alexei laughed again, shaking his head. "Not at all-- you remind me of myself and my wife."

Otabek nodded, smiling when he too was shown the picture of Alexei's family. "They're beautiful."

"Thank you," Alexei said, before glancing at his phone as it was handed back, "Oh, is that the time? Sorry, I'm afraid I've got to run-- I'm late to a meeting." Yuri and Otabek said goodbye and Alexei was off, hurrying away through the throngs of people.

Still smiling casually, Otabek turned to Yuri, "So," he said in an undertone, rising from the couch, "how did that happen?"

Yuri shook his head, mirroring Otabek's casual expression and accepting his hands for assistance in standing. "Coincidence of coincidences," Yuri replied, tugging on Otabek's arm as he slowly, arduously, stood. "I really almost fell and next thing I know, he'd caught me and was helping me to sit down. Conversation was pretty much inevitable after that." Yuri let out a breath as he regained his feet, leaning his head against Otabek's shoulder as they stood still for a second.

Otabek nodded, "Okay. We're definitely in a more precarious position now that he knows us-- together, no less."

Yuri nodded, "I know, I know, but what could I do? Ask him to please leave me alone? That would be so suspicious and you know it."

Otabek admitted defeat. "I know, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just worried about you being here: something's going to go wrong, I know it."

"It'll be fine," Yuri said, reaching up to give Otabek a quick kiss. "Besides," he continued, "It's my first day to work at a literal paper company, what's the worst that could happen? I promise: if I go into labor, I'll take a sick day and go home."

Otabek snorted. "As long as you go home."

***

"Yuli!" Yuri turned in his swivel chair -- the chair he was quickly beginning to hate (it had literally no back support and his stomach kept getting stuck under the desk) -- to find Otabek standing in the doorway of the offices.

"Sasha?" Yuri laughed, though made no move to get up, "What are you doing here? Go back to your own job."

While Yuri 'worked' in sales, Otabek, as hard as he tried while on missions, was very clearly not a people person. Though he could turn on the charm for a while, being social for too long drained him, and it just wouldn't have been believable for him to be a sales rep like his 'wife.'

While it was true that Yuri couldn't exactly be called a social butterfly either, he was -- as he loved to lord over Otabek's head -- a better actor than his husband, and, despite being an ambivert, was extroverted enough to make his position no surprise to those he came into contact with. Otabek, however, was an accountant.

Otabek stuck his tongue out. "Lunch break," he said, coming over to Yuri's little cubicle. "I thought I'd make the trek from down the hall to take my wife to a very fancy lunch in the cafeteria."

"Oh, did you?" Yuri laughed, and accepted Otabek's hand to get up, "How very sweet of you-- I'm honored."

"You should be," Otabek replied, and deftly dodged Yuri's light smack to his arm.

The pair made their way down to the cafeteria, and again, Otabek deposited Yuri at a table and went to get their food himself. As Yuri sat alone, busying himself with something on his phone, he was interrupted.

"Are you Yulianna?" Yuri looked up. A pretty brunette was standing beside him; he recognized her as a 'coworker' in sales.

"Yeah," he said, smiling and turning off his phone. "Ekaterina, right? We work together."

She nodded, "Yeah. Do you mind if I sit?"

Yuri shook his head, though he really didn't want company; his back was aching and his stupid desk chair didn't help. "Not at all."

"Thanks," she smiled and sat. "You're new, right? From the merger?" He nodded, "Well," she grinned, throwing her hands wide and gesturing around them, "Welcome to Ireot! As you can see, we are a practically royal establishment." Yuri laughed and so did she. While the lobby was impressive, the cafeteria, only for the employees, was spectacularly less so, and the joke was obvious.

"Glad to be here." Yuri replied.

"So," Ekaterina continued, eyes flitting down to Yuri's abdomen, "What's it like to adjust to a new job right now? It must be hard."

Yuri nodded a bit, "It's alright," he said, "my husband's been a huge help-- that's him over there, grabbing some food," he gestured to where Otabek stood in line, "he works over in finance."

"That's nice," Ekaterina said, smiling, "I bet you two are so excited! When are you due?"

"October 11th." Yuri replied, setting a hand on his abdomen and running his thumb over it slowly.

"Not long now!" Ekaterina grinned, then, "Would you mind?"

It took all of Yuri's self-control not to visibly bristle. Yes, he thought bitterly, yes, I would absolutely mind. But-- with an internal sigh, Yuri shook his head and forced a smile.

"Not at all."

Smiling, Ekaterina put a hand right above Yuri's navel; he had to draw his muscles taut so as not to smack her away. While Yuri may hate it, Yulianna, sweet, outgoing, and a great sales rep, loved getting attention for her bump-- even capitalizing on it from time to time to help convince a buyer.

Ekaterina gasped slightly as a kick hit where her palm was placed. Yuri smiled slightly as his daughter preened under the attention-- he could tell she was going to be a performer when she grew up, and, if her fetal leg strength could foretell anything, a dancer to boot.

Yuri gasped suddenly, and, looking horrified, as though she'd hurt him, Ekaterina drew her hand back immediately.

"Yulianna? Are you alright?" Yuri gritted his teeth and nodded, fighting to maintain his character right now. One hand travelled to his lower back and pushed weakly, trying to lessen the pressure threatening to split something within him. It was a Braxton-Hicks contraction, he knew that -- he'd been getting them pretty powerfully all morning -- but this one was most-certainly worse, and he forced himself to breathe slowly, in and out through his nose.

It took a minute or so, but the pain dissipated, and Yuri raised his gaze to Ekaterina, looking on anxiously. "Sorry," he said, and was surprised to hear that his voice sounded strained and exhausted, "Braxton-Hicks, they can be demons."

Ekaterina nodded, looking sympathetic, but jumped up when Otabek sat down next to Yuri.

"I'll leave you guys to your lunch," she said with a small, awkward smile, "see you later, Yulianna, feel better."

Yuri nodded and gave a little wave as she walked away.

"Feel better?" Otabek asked Yuri, eyebrows furrowed.

Yuri waved it off, "She works in sales with me," he said, "she saw a particularly hard kick and thought I was in labor or something," there was no need to worry Beka about something unimportant like the fake contraction. "I swear, our daughter's going to be a dancer, B-Sasha."

Otabek looked a bit surprised: Yuri never slipped up like that. It had to be baby brain. "Either that or a kick boxer." He replied, covering for Yuri's mistake.

Yuri laughed, "Don't give her any ideas."

***

Yuri and Otabek had finished lunch and were walking back through the deserted lobby to their respective offices when it happened. From behind them, where they were crossing the check-in desk, a gunshot went off, echoing through the room.

Otabek moved faster than Yuri had ever seen him: he dragged Yuri, stumbling at the quick motion, behind the desk just as another shot rang out, exactly where Otabek had been standing only seconds before. Instantly, voices began flooding through the twin earpieces Yuri and Otabek wore, peppering them with instructions that neither listened to.

"Stay here," Otabek turned to Yuri, pulling a gun from the holster under his shirt, "Don't try to help, you shouldn't be here as it is."

"But--"

"Stay. Here." Otabek's voice was quiet, but very firm, and, biting his lip, Yuri nodded, ice filling his chest as Otabek disappeared around the desk.

Yuri peered around the side of the desk, scanning the rest of the lobby. He could see two guys, well muscled and each holding a gun. Yuri took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart-- he couldn't afford to freak out right now, it wouldn't be good for any of the three of them.

Okay, he thought, it could be worse: once Otabek had been ambushed by five people with guns and he'd only gotten a few scrapes from taking them down. This was nothing: it would be fine. Yuri put a hand on his abdomen, concentrating on slowing his breathing and rubbed it gently: it had to be fine.

Yuri jumped at the sound of a gunshot, then rolled his eyes at himself: he'd been so startled he'd peed himself. Then again, Yuri tried to deflect some shame, his bladder was under so much pressure nowadays, it didn't take much to have an accident anymore. Scratch that, it was even more humiliating.

Yuri leaned his head back against the desk, trying to listen to the yelling he could hear from the other end of the lobby. The words were fast though, and in English, and between his baby brain making complex, language-translating thought next to impossible and the woman in his ear yammering away, he couldn't make out anything that was being said.

Yuri took the earpiece out. It yielded results: he could now decipher what was being shouted back and forth from behind his hiding place.

Yuri had just finished translating the first sentence he could hear unimpeded but the second he did it, the conversation died out mid-word. A gunshot rang out. There was no more sound.

Yuri pressed himself against the desk, heart hammering against his ribs. Who had made the shot?!

Carefully, hanging onto the desk to get up, Yuri stood, hunched over even though it was killing his back and his balance was awful at best, and hesitantly looked over to the other side of the lobby.

His heart stopped.

And restarted again.

"Beka!" Yuri's cry echoed through the room as he saw his husband, tears of relief (that he fully blamed on his hormone-addled brain) streaming down his face.

Otabek's head whipped around, a look of pure horror on his face. "Yuri, look ou--" And then a gunshot rang out, and Otabek's eyes grew wide.

Gracefully, as if in slow motion, Yuri watched as Otabek's body fell, red blossoming on his chest, coloring his white shirt crimson.

Yuri screamed. Because there, directly behind Otabek, standing where Yuri had not been able to see him, was Alexei.

"Beka!" Yuri's scream wrent the air, and Alexei turned to him, brows flickering in confusion. Yuri didn't notice that though, for, the moment his husband hit the floor, a ripping pain had torn through Yuri's body and he cried out, falling to his knees on the ground, blind to the throbbing in his kneecaps when such an immense pressure was pulling his body apart.

In the midst of the white hot pain, Yuri forgot what was happening, forgot that his husband had just been shot, forgot that their covers had most definitely been blown, and forgot that he was alone in a room, defenseless, with one of the most brutal, infamous assassins he'd ever encountered, totally at his mercy.

______________________________________________________________________________

A scream split the air, and the man he'd thought was called Sasha, but now knew to be Otabek Altin, hero of Kazakhstan, and revered spy recruited by the Russian government, looked around. That was all Alexei needed. The bullet ripped through the man in a second, and Alexei watched the man who was supposed to have killed him fall to the floor, blood blooming on his back and chest.

It was a stupid mistake to make, Alexei mused, as he surveyed the body of the Kazakh. Why had he made it? There was a civilian in here, so what? There had been mafia shootouts surrounded by dozens of innocent passersby before and no one had batted an eye at the collateral damage then, and it wasn't like the person who'd screamed was in danger -- Alexei hadn't even noticed that they were there --, so why would Altin react the way he did?

The man had left himself open and vulnerable, dropping his gun and turning his back to his armed and homicidal shootout partner. What the hell was he thinking?

"Beka!" Another shriek hit the air and Alexei looked up to see the civilian.

Yulianna -- or who he thought had been Yulianna, he now realized -- was standing there, face turning white and clutching the desk for support.

Before Alexei had a chance to process this, however, Yulianna doubled over, another cry emerging from her throat. Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground, her hands scrabbling over her abdomen.

And suddenly everything made sense. Sasha Tolyev was not Sasha Tolyev, but Otabek Altin. And Otabek Altin was married to none other than Yuri Plisetsky, the Ice Tiger of Russia, renowned and feared spy-- all but famous in this line of work. This Plisetsky, Alexei thought, mind whirring a mile a minute, wasn't he a man? He remembered because the Plisetky-Altin marriage, though they'd tried to keep it quiet, had been a big deal in the intelligence agency world. While it was an extremely high-tech life, it was not very supportive of LGBTQ+ rights, and two gay agents, from Russia, no less, getting married with no negative repercussions, had been big news.

In hindsight, Alexei considered, it might've been because Plisetsky was still able to bear children. The anatomical advantage was becoming less and less common in males so maybe they wanted to make a couple that was powerful (and pretty fucking dangerous) happy and took Plisetsky's ability to have children as a consolation prize, using his genes to keep the evolutionary advantage alive.

That still didn't explain, though, why the hell the Hero of Kazakhstan and the Russian Ice Tiger were here, and why the latter was heavily pregnant and, by the looks of it, only minutes away from giving birth, next to an armed and vicious assassin.

Alexei glanced around him: the gunshots would definitely have been heard and the building would be on lockdown, and, since they worked for the same company he did, the security guards would be no problem. Alexei had the time and space to take out Plisetsky, and, with a sigh, he stepped over the man's husband's body. He hadn't been betting on a distraction: he was supposed to be away and out of the country by now, not cleaning up collateral. Frankly, it was below his pay grade.

As Alexei released the safety on his gun, finger on the trigger, he stepped up to Yuri. The man was still kneeling on the ground, eyes shut tight and whimpering, tears streaming down his face as his body heaved. Alexei looked down at him, grimaced: he hated having to do jobs like this: killing women (or, in this situation, pregnant men) and children just seemed cruel to him, and unnecessary. Unless they were threats, why should he take innocent lives?

But this wasn't an innocent life, he reminded himself as he looked down at Plisetsky: this man was, quite literally, an agent of his destruction, and a spy working for his corporation's enemy. They were directly set against each other. And yet...

Yuri groaned, panting and his entire body tensed, crying out sharply as another contraction hit him.

This was going very quickly, Alexei thought idly as he watched him, curled up and trembling in pain. With Lili and the girls, things hadn't been nearly so quick. Had Plisetsky's water even broken yet? He glanced around, and, seeing a small puddle a few feet from where Yuri was, he gauged that, yes, it had.

As Alexei raised his gun, he bit his lip. This felt wrong. Yeah, he killed people all of the time, but this man had just had his husband shot right in front of him, and was now in a fairly advanced stage of labor. It just didn't feel... fair, somehow. And, as if to cement the idea, Yuri whimpered, quiet but audible over the total silence in the room other than his heavy breathing.

"Beka..." his voice was pitiful: you could hear how much pain he was in, and the quality of his plea was heartbreaking.

Alexei lifted his gun and--

He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. Even if, theoretically, Yuri would deserve a bullet in the brain, his child had done nothing wrong and he'd be killing -- Luci, had he said? -- too. He'd never liked collateral damage, and, without the necessity of causing it, he wouldn't.

Alexei put the safety back on his gun, pushing it into his belt, resolved not to kill Yuri Plisetsky. As he turned to leave, he stopped briefly, looking back. Plisetsky, or Yulianna, as he'd known him to be, was on his knees, but in so much pain he curled over and his forehead was pressed against the floor, his fists balled beside his head. That was not the right position to be in to have a baby. It'd hurt it...

With an infuriated yell, Alexei strode back over to the figure curled on the ground, and, roughly, but then, feeling guilty, more gently, took him under the arms and pulled him onto his back. Yuri, still incredibly out of it, (though he couldn't exactly blame him) barely seemed to register that he'd been touched, not reacting but to open his eyes weakly and stare at Alexei.

"Why are you--" His voice was nothing but a whisper, but he seemed to have a moment of clarity, and the green gaze on Alexei sharpened, before it vanished altogether. Yuri screamed, like screamed, screwing his eyes shut and upper body curling with the force of the contraction. It lasted for a long time, Yuri's golden hair growing duller with sweat as he rode it out.

Alexei tried not to, he really did, he tried to walk away, tried to think of the plane that would take him to safety, but he didn't. He thought of his girls, he thought of Lili, thought of her having to do that without anyone to help her.

In spite of himself, Alexei stood and grabbed a pair of scissors from behind the desk; he was as careful as he could be when he used them, cutting apart the clothing obstructing the channel the baby would take. Alexei swore under his breath... this was going to be a long afternoon...

***

"Yura, this is a bad idea; it's dangerous, you got him caught, what if he tries to--"

"Tries to what?" Yuri turned to his husband, who walked behind him as Yuri marched through the bureau of intelligence (the bureau for which they worked). "His hands are chained in place, he can't get up from his chair, how could he possibly hurt me?"

Otabek sighed, rubbing his forehead with his right hand, the left in a sling. When Alexei had shot him, miracle of miracles, he'd hit the left side instead of the right, where the heart was located. Yuri assumed that this was because he'd been aimed when Otabek was facing him, but had shot once he'd turned around, ending up hitting closer to his shoulder than to any vital organ.

"I don't like it," Otabek said after a second, "It feels risky and unnecessary and quite honestly I don't want either you or Luci anywhere near him after that."

Yuri sighed too. "I know that," he said heavily, "but after this, we won't be. I understand why you feel that way, hell, part of me does too, but he's the reason Luci and I are still alive. That has to count for something."

Otabek searched Yuri's face for a long moment, before he let out a breath. "Fine," he looked pained, "five minutes."

Yuri nodded, "That's all I need."

Otabek gave him a quick kiss, before standing back and opening the door for him.

Yuri stepped into the interrogation room and was met with the sight of the infamous, terror-inspiring Alexei Turgenev on the other side of the table.

Said man raised his eyebrows, "You're back at work so soon?" He asked, "Can't you take some time off?"

Yuri smiled slightly, "I'm technically still on paternity leave," he said, "so's Beka, but I wanted to see you," Alexei nodded, gesturing to the vacant chair across from him. "There's someone you need to meet," Yuri said slowly, before he carefully raised the baby carrier he held in his arms, lifting the little, pink blanket that covered the top of it, so Alexei could see the tiny, almost equally pink baby resting inside. "I'd like to introduce you to Luci Plisetsky-Altin."

Alexei stared at the baby, a small smile resting on his features. "She's beautiful." he said, and Yuri smiled.

"Thank you," he replied, before taking the chair that had been offered earlier to him, and, after recovering it, setting the baby carrier down next to him. "Actually," Yuri continued, "thank you for everything. I was told that the birth was..." he paused, glancing down at the now no longer visible baby. "Dangerous." he finished, before looking back up at Alexei, "Apparently she was in the wrong position, or something, I don't know, I was hopped up on meds when they told me," he shook his head slightly, "but, the main thing is, had I been alone, there's a good chance that neither Luci nor me would be here today. So thank you, you saved myself and my daughter, I couldn't be any more grateful."

Alexei smiled, "You're welcome," he said, before glancing down and looking at the table. Yuri bit his lip.

Alexei had been caught because he'd stayed behind to help Yuri. He'd been supposed to get on a private plane and leave Russia, hide out for a bit, not stay at the scene of the crime and help coach a mortal enemy through labor.

Following the shootout, which Yuri's team had heard over the earpieces, a team had been dispatched to help, especially after they'd heard Yuri scream for his husband-- a sign that something had gone terribly wrong. Well, if he were being honest, Yuri knew that the entire mission had been an absolute disaster. An agent had gotten shot and the other had been rendered completely useless, 100% at the mercy of a killer, because he'd gone into labor after assuring the agency that he wouldn't; it had been a fucking mess. Yuri could only imagine the bureaucratic paperwork that people had had to fill out. They'd caught Alexei, though, so technically the mission had been a success, but still, Yuri almost felt guilty for catching the guy. He truly did owe him his life.

"I'll make sure your family is taken care of," Yuri said into the silence. "We questioned them and they didn't know anything, so they're free to go, and I'll make sure they'll be okay."

Alexei nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course."

As Yuri stood to go, picking up the carrier, Alexei spoke again, looking up at him from his chair with a smile. "You take care of that baby."

Yuri smiled back. "I will."