Title: Don’t Mess With Mrs. Belmont
Author: jadedsilk
Timeline: 1400’s
Spoilers: Yes.
Warnings: Nope. G rated.
Genre: Humor/ A touch of romance
Disclaimer: Don’t own it, never will.
Contest Topic #: 27th Challenge [Obscure Characters/Pairings] Entry #1
Comments: Written from Trevor’s POV. Hope you enjoy. ^_^
Word Count: 672



~*~

Trevor glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, coiling his whip expertly around his hand while trying to ignore the ache in his head. To anyone else, the gesture of gathering the whip would have seemed self assured, suave even. He was also sure that Sypha saw it for what it was. Reassurance for a terrified man. It wasn’t that Trevor Belmont wasn’t brave. It was that he knew /exactly/ what he was getting himself into this time, and he had absolutely no urge to go back and face the horrors of that Godforsaken castle /ever/ again. The strange thing was, his fear of the castle paled in comparison to his fear of Sypha.

At seven months pregnant, (and for the second time in three years) she was an absolute tyrant. She could wield any weapon better than Trevor could even on a bad day, and he had just rather flippantly announced to her that he was taking off to explore the ruins and investigate the rumors of a rogue Forgemaster.

He knew that Sypha could sense the evil just as readily as he could, and that she understood. He was absolutely certain that she loved him, because you did not take a frying pan to the skull of someone you loved when you were so weary with the weight of pregnancy that you could barely find the energy to stand.

Maybe it would have helped if he hadn’t used what she referred to as his ‘man’ tone of voice. The one where he appeared to be playing at the role of head-of-the-household and stood arrogantly with his hands on his hips.

Yes. Maybe he could have approached the topic a bit more…sensitively.

“Your Son is only two summers old, and I am roughly the size of a warg. I am exhausted, I feel like I am going to throw up every time I eat, and now you are flitting off to near certain death on the off chance that a rumor you heard in a tavern is correct?!” she demanded, eyes narrowed.

Okay, well yes, when you put it like that…it did sound a little bit ridiculous...but…

“Sypha…” he said gently, beseeching just a bit of understanding with his tone. “If Dracula returns, there is no hope for our children,” he said terribly reasonably.

There was no sympathy or understanding in that blue eyed gaze that met his even more fiercely. If anything, her eyes had narrowed even more.

“Trevor Belmont, so help me God, if you die and leave me to raise these two children myself, Dracula will not stand a chance against me. He will never resurrect again because I will find him and shred him into strips so fine that the pieces will not be able to crawl back together. And when I am done, I will kick your tombstone for good measure!”

Okay, so maybe she did understand and was just upset. That was possible.

“Thank you for understanding Love.” Trevor said softly.

“Don’t you say /Love/ to me!” she hissed, tapping her toe.

Trevor took his life into his own hands as he made his way closer to her, trying not to flinch as she raised the frying pan defensively. He slipped under the upraised weapon, and kissed her gently on the cheek. He was rewarded when lean arms slid around his waist, and her pregnant belly pushed up against his hip.

“Just come back to me…please?” she whispered softly, a hint of tears in her tone. “It frightens me to no end that you are going and I cannot accompany you. But I do understand,” She murmured into the depths of his shirt.

“I can’t have you come with me,” Trevor laughed gently “I can’t have you taking out the ultimate evil of this land all by yourself while I uselessly tag along. All the other vampire hunters would laugh at me.”

He admitted to himself that when she hit him the second time with the frying pan, that he really did deserve it.

~*~