Rating: the one that says everybody can read it
Summary: Early musings of an expectant father
Warning: Baby!fic. If it makes you puke, don't read this. I wouldn't wanna put anyone in hospital.
Disclaimer: So not mine.
A/N: Special thanks to speckleberry for the beta job. This was most definitely inspired by watching three seasons of Angel back to back. I blame Whedon for it. And, although this is pronoun heavy, it was written with John/Elizabeth in mind but far be it from me to dictate who belongs with whom in fandom cos fandom belongs to all of us, no? Also I was thinking it could be a 'sequel' to So Is She Mad. That is, of course, totally up to you.
He lay perfectly still. It was ridiculous but he did it anyway. He pressed his ear closely to where he could listen for a second heartbeat resonating in her body. It was probably too early for that. He didn’t even know if it had a heart. That would mean it was alive.
His head reeled in this knowledge. It was new to him, this life thing. It was unfamiliar terrain that made him either too cautious or too clueless about what was going on. But, if you gave him a target, simple destruction, he could tell you six ways from Sunday how to eradicate every living organism that ever thought of being. Life was a different creature.
It took more effort. It needed to be nurtured, guided and loved. And it was. It, he, she, whichever it was on its way to becoming, had all those essentials ready made from begining inside her. She was the first thing his child would ever know of the world, her strength and kindness. His kid would know her warmth, her heart. All the things he had come to know as home.
This one had it made. He or she would be born into a home, a place that didn’t need to be sought after or found a galaxy away. Home would never be an alien concept for it, him, her, them.
Could be twins, he mused.
They would be wanted; they would have a father that was there. A father who did things differently is what he would become. Different than the way his father was. He’d be sure of it. His children would know that he loved them.
Unknowingly he broke her focus on Rubaiyat when he vocalised his affirmation with a ‘yeah’, which was unfortunate because then she stopped running her fingers through his hair.
She asked for clarification.
He cleared his throat, “Nothing.”
“Okay,” she said as unconvincingly.
That’s another thing their kids would have, a mother who wouldn’t pry. One who played to their strengths and built up their weaknesses. She was patient enough to work on someone else's timetable. No pressure, just understanding. It took him a while to get that. But when he did his life was far less complicated.
He’d make sure his kids knew that too.
They’d have a great life and at the very least a great start.
Yeah, he kept it to himself this time.
He couldn’t wait to see where their lives would take them.