"You have absolutely no right to complain to me about my being irresponsible!"

Brio was being quite loud, but Frux was pointedly ignoring him. After all, Brio did the same to him often enough.

"You tell me I'm irresponsible, I'm being foolish, I'm not thinking about the f-f-f-future!"

He had been going on, on this theme for quite some time, now, so ignoring it was particularly easy. He wasn't even missing anything important.

"And then you go and d-do the same thing! You are not allowed to complain at me anymore!"

Frux just continued unconcernedly filing away the papers he'd just finished grading for the single class he was still teaching down on Atu while he stayed above on the station, as if Brio wasn't hovering over his shoulder ranting at him.

"Are you even listening t-to me?" the half-chyrith demanded furiously.

"No," Frux answered.

Brio ran out of words entirely, then, and just stood there, breath puffing angrily, and glared.

Tired of the temper tantrum, and tired of looking after the parents of two sets of offspring, Frux turned to face his adopted son-- as if Brio would ever consent to being called his son. "Brio, the difference between us is that I, unlike you, like children and have no qualms at all taking them in, raising them, and doing right by them. Yes, Brio," he said coldly when the boy gaped at him, "I sired children, just as you did. I, however, knew exactly what I was doing. You, I expect, did not think that far. And," he added with bitter pointedness, "I am looking after my own damn mate-- who, I might add, is in rather more discomfort than yours is. So until you try being responsible, yes, I am going to call you the opposite."

Bio's mouth opened and closed without sound. It had been a long time since Frux had actually lost his temper with him and told him what he really thought. Really, he'd done well at humoring him, subtly guiding him, and looking out for him. But enough was enough, and the boy needed to grow up, or else accept that never was going to grow up and let someone else look out for him. And Frux was tired of being yelled at.

"Now if you'll excuse me," he finished irritably, "Uizete is expecting me."

And he left Brio standing there in his office, looking near to tears for the first time in years, because Uizete was expecting him.

Uizete. His heavily-pregnant current mate. Who would, probably within the month, deliver a large but healthy brace of seven kittens.

Seven.

Seven.

Goddess, every time Frux thought of that, he had to pause and recount the little heartbeats in his head. He simply could not imagine someone who was so strongly Askan delivering more than two at a time, much less two of his children.

He was, of course, the amniomancer for Uizete as well as her responsible guardian during the course of the pregnancy: he was determined that his progeny have the best of care, and he trusted no one to give that except himself. Besides, Uizete herself wasn't quite as dull or difficult as most adults he came across. He could stand her company for long enough to hold a conversation and not wind up insulting her on accident or missing something she had meant but not actually said. 

Goddess, he really would have made a terrible diplomat, as he'd originally planned, wouldn't he have. 

He was also determined to take in one of his offspring as well as Brio's. He expected Uizete would deliver not long before Bio's clutch hatched, in fact-- perhaps a month before, time enough for weaning as best as possible and picking who would wind up raising them all-- so the two ought to coincide nicely. The two would probably see themselves as siblings, much like Vesarus and Alaina, despite any physical differences they would surely have.

Unless Brio suddenly decided to grow a backbone and look after his own get, at any rate, which he doubted. Whatever Brio did, Frux was planning on looking after the result himself. He didn't mind the result; it was just getting there that was so frustrating, with Brio's whining at every little complaint he had. After all, Frux was being the responsible guardian to Uecoss, as well, at this point, though thankfully now that she had clutched, there wasn't much for him to do except bring her a meal now and then and relieve her of egg-duty when she was desperate for a bath.

The hatching, though, that he looked forward to.

Rather like he was looking forward to the delivery of his children. All seven of them.

Seven.

Goddess, the thought was enough to make him smile. It was really too bad he couldn't keep all of them-- it would have been too difficult to look after them all, even if the Draconic Relations Ministry handling the "hatching" would have let him-- because he could only imagine the joy of having so many children-- his own children-- riding his back to school, learning how to fly, getting tucked into bed, or even cuddling up with him after nightmares. All the little joys of raising Pebai and the others-- and Vesarus and Alaina now, though they were starting to outgrow their youngest and happiest times by this point-- multiplied....

But he was getting one, no matter what. One of his own, and one of Brio's. That would do, for now. Perhaps he could try again later, if these young ones didn't take enough time to grow up. Uizete, at least, seemed mostly Asandae so perhaps her offspring would be more like him in aging than the bulk of the other children he'd raised, with no magic or other breeds involved to speed them up, making him a grandfather or a great-grandfather before he was technically old enough to have children, at all, among his own people.

And he would have a while with them before they were given away to others who wanted them. Never again would a child of his not know his or her father, or doubt that he loved them and was proud of them.

Gods, it would be hard to watch his children given away again. Six of them-- five, if Uizete raised one, herself. Of seven.

Seven. Seven!

By the time he got back to Uizete's room for her check-up, chat, and dinner, he'd forgotten all about being annoyed with Brio. There were better things to think about, after all, and seven little heartbeats to check up on.

Goddess. Seven.