A/N: I have another story in this fandom, Late Night (which was supposed to just be a one shot that just developed into so much more). A guest told me that I should write some chapters from Pete's perspective. So, this is me doing that but on a different story, because I have a plan for Late Night (only two chapters left in Late Night before I am done with it!). Please enjoy!
*I don't own Warehouse 13, because if I did it would still be on the air.
Not it. Pete thought to himself as he listened to the cries of his daughter on the baby monitor. It wasn't his turn, and he didn't want to leave the bed. It was hot and sticky so he didn't want to move. After a few seconds, he felt Myka pull herself out of bed and quietly leave the room.
A few years ago, if asked, he never would have imagined his life would be this great. He never thought Myka would fall for him, let alone have his child. But like always, she pulled through during the most difficult time of his life, and he just knew it would all be okay. It was as if it was destiny, that his world would fall apart until they were together, and once they got together, it was all good again. Suddenly the Warehouse really wasn't moving, and his sister came back into his life, and the most beautiful woman in the world was in love with him. And she loved all of him, from his dorky smile, his weird array of interests, his immature jokes and boyish charm. And life had never been better.
He heard his girls interacting over the baby monitor, and smiled, his heart swelling as he listened to Myka talk to their daughter. She had been so uncertain about being a mother, so scared she would screw up, but had taken to it like a duck to water. That baby could make her light up faster than Pete had ever been able to accomplish. And they looked so alike, it was uncanny, although Myka didn't see it.
"Trust me, in a few years, it will be like looking in a mirror." It was the first time since Myka had given birth that they had been truly alone with their daughter. She had a lot of curly brown hair, and the one time she opened her eyes, he could see they mirrored his.
Myka shook her head. "Did you see those eyes, Pete? Those eyes are all you." She stroked the baby's head tenderly, a smile on her face. "So mischievous." She grinned up at him.
Pete shook his head. "There is more to her than just eyes, Mykes. She's got my eyes, but your face. Just trust me." She had nodded, not convinced, and Pete had dropped the subject, knowing he would be proven correct in a few months or years.
"Imogen Rose Lattimer, you have a stinky bum!" Myka's voice over the monitor had snapped him to the present. He heard his daughter giggle, and smiled. That name had taken so long to agree on. He was fine with using a name from one of Shakespeare's works, and even managed to persuade Myka to do a first name, rather than a middle name. Ophelia was so beautiful, and that's what Pete called Myka when he wanted to see her smile. Plus, he had always loved the name Juliet. He had been surprised when Myka vetoed it, calling it to cliché. Unfortunately, he wasn't a fan of many other Shakespearian girl names. In the end, after months of arguing, they had agreed on Imogen. It was not too out there, and different. Myka was a fan of different names, he had discovered. It was understandable, growing up with a name like Myka, one you didn't here every day. They rarely called her Imogen though. Claudia had shortened it to Ginny, and that tended to be what stuck.
Pete listened to his daughter chatter with her mother, and Myka answer her back softly, trying not to rile her up. It was late, and he was supposed to be sleeping. That was the whole point of taking turns. He started to rouse himself to join them, when he heard his wife's voice clear as day. "Do you want to come eat in Mumma and Daddy's bed?"
Shit! Pete knew that if she knew he'd been up this whole time, she'd be pissed he didn't come help, even though it wasn't technically his turn. He climbed back into bed just as he heard his door open. He felt cool relief when she flipped on the box fan nearest the bed, and watched through mostly closed eyes as she hopped into bed with their fifteen month old daughter. He watched the restless Ginny pulling at Myka's top, whining as she tried to move the fabric out of her way. Myka took her time, settling herself before she pulled out her breast, offering it to Ginny, who gladly took it and settled down. Myka seemed to fall back asleep immediately, and Pete watched freely for a moment, eyes wide open. His girls, lying in bed with him. Nope, life couldn't get any better than this. He watched them silently for a moment before closing his own eyes again, drifting off to sleep.
He woke when he heard a strange sound coming from next to him. He could feel the small body that had rolled closer to him. He kept his eyes closed, maybe it was a fluke, and he could go back to sleep.
"Dada!" His daughter was practically yelling. He knew he had to respond, if he didn't she would just keep trying. He opened one eye, glancing over at his wife, who shot him a sympathetic look. He grinned, reaching out to stroke Ginny's curls. "How are my girls?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep. He was sure he looked worse for wear.
Myka didn't answer him. Instead, she laughed quietly, a small crooked smile stretching across her lips. "She is such a daddy's girl." Pete looked down at his daughter, whose eyes were beginning to close as he played with her curls.
"I'm telling you, when you are gone, I swear she calls for you." Pete responded. It was true, Ginny called and cried for Myka when she was gone, working on inventory or on one of those rare missions when she and Pete were split up. It broke his heart a bit when Ginny did it, because he wasn't what she needed at that moment, and there was nothing he could do to fix that for her.
"Yeah, but look who she's turned to now that she's gotten everything she can from me." Myka pointed at the toddler, whose eyes were closed, and her mouth hung open. She had rolled closer to Pete as he stroked her.
"Yeah, I know." He answered. He grinned at Myka, making her smile.
Myka stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "Yeah, she likes you so much, you can be the one who wakes up to her. No more taking turns!" She joked.
Pete laughed. "She likes me now. Just give it a few years. Soon she'll be curled up in your lap reading whatever Shakespeare play you have or War of the Worlds or something, learning a new language, and she'll have no use for me." He was convinced that Ginny would grow up smarter than him. Who wouldn't, with a mother like Myka to stimulate her development every step of the way?
"You know another language! And we have been using it with her." Myka protested, and Pete had to agree. They had been teaching Ginny some signs, making it easier for her to communicate with them. Pete also thought it would be important for her to know so she could communicate with her Jeannie easier. He knew that reading lips wasn't always easy, and Ginny having a relationship with everyone in his family was important to him.
Pete sighed. "If she learns it now, when she gets older, she will want to learn a different language from you. Therefore your argument is invalid, and we still need to take turns."
Myka smiled and shook her head, snuggling closer to the two other bodies in the bed. Pete dropped the argument, placing a gentle kiss to the top of his wife's head, watching her do the same to their daughter. Soon, her breathing slowed, and she was fast asleep. Pete placed his hand on the belly of the sleeping toddler, who was well on her way to taking over the bed. This used to just be my bed. I like it better this way. He closed his eyes, listened to the breathing of the two most important women in his world, and let sleep overtake him.