A/N: Hello! So I know Jackson and April's drive to Lake Tahoe has been written a million and one times already, but I just wanted to throw my own interpretation into the mix. Anyways, this is just a snapshot of a short period of time during their ride. Also- this story is dedicated to the very awesome quisinart4 whose birthday is today! Her Japril stories are super amazing and you should all go read them when you're done with this.
"Will we have a house?"
They've been going for five hours, long enough that his hands are starting to cramp from their position on the steering wheel. Around them the highway is empty, most of its travellers home in their beds. He's enticed by the thought, and April must be too because she's snuggled deep in his favorite blue hoodie that she's wearing over her dress, and as she asks the question her eyes begin to droop shut.
"Unless you want to live in an apartment forever," he laughs, grinning when she smacks him lazily on the arm.
"We're getting a house."
"Okay, tell me about it."
She sighs, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the window, her eyes finally shutting as she pictures their future home in her head.
"It will be white, with red accents on the outside," she starts with a smile, "two stories and a basement. Downstairs there's the living room with a bay window, and a big dining room for when our families visit, and the kitchen with a breakfast bar that we'll probably end up eating most of our meals at."
"Sounds good to me. I already have one at my apartment."
"You do?"
He nods, and she lets out a quiet hum of approval. Then as she thinks about it the hum drops to one of horror and he glances over to see that her smile has been replaced with a frown.
"Hey," he lets go of the steering wheel with his right hand, stretching his fingers in relief before reaching out and stroking the soft skin of her cheek, "What's wrong?"
She takes his hand, moving it to cup her face and wrapping a hand around his forearm so he can't let her go. In the faint light of the streetlamps overhead he can see that her eyes are beginning to glisten.
"I was living with Matthew," she whispers, "I just moved all of my things in last weekend so we wouldn't have to worry about it after the wedding."
"Oh," he breathes, "We'll take care of it, okay? When we get back we can take a day and move all of your things into my apartment."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, because I have the breakfast bar, remember?"
That's all it takes for her to laugh, shaking her head as he tucks a curl that's freed itself from her braid behind her ear. He tries to take his hand back, but she captures it in both of hers and holds it on her lap, tracing her fingers along the bones absentmindedly as she picks up talking about their home.
"Our bedroom will be upstairs, at the end of the hallway. We'll have our own bathroom with a clawfoot bathtub that's big enough for both of us, and in our bedroom we'll have a skylight above our bed so we can see the stars at night."
"And how many other bedrooms are we going to need?"
She blushes, turning so she's sitting sideways in her seat facing him,
"Three," she says after a long moment of thought, "A guest room and two bedrooms for the kids. Oh, and a nursery, but we'll turn that into a playroom when they're older."
He grins, squeezing her hand in assurance,
"So, two kids?" he asks, earning a nod, "Boys or girls?"
"Girls, obviously," she says with a smirk at his horrified reaction.
"No way, three against one is completely unfair. How about one of each?"
"Hmm," she pretends to think about it for a moment, laughing when he looks over at her with eyes the size of saucers, "I guess I could live with one of each."
"Good," he sighs in relief, "we'll have a ballerina and a basketball player."
"Or, y'know, they can choose whatever they want to do based on personal interest and not stereotypical gender roles or our own interests."
"Right… right."
She yawns then, bringing his hand back to her cheek as she nuzzles against it and closes her eyes.
"Tell me about them," she asks, brushing her fingers along the smooth underside of his forearm.
"Well," he starts, "Our son will be older, so he can look out for his little sister. He'll be loud and energetic, and he'll spend all day in the treehouse I'm going to build for him in the backyard. He'll look like me, but he'll be strong like you are. He won't let anyone tell him what to do. He's going to drive us crazy."
She lets out a small chuckle, trying not to give in to sleep, "And our little girl?"
"She'll look like you, just like you. Well, other than the obvious. She'll be sweet and curious, and she'll love her big brother. Of course he won't want anything to do with her when they're kids because she'll always want to be poking around in his treehouse and asking him a million questions, but she'll love him anyways."
"Mmm," she murmurs, "Keep talking."
"Okay," he says, smiling at the way her voice sounds so heavy with sleepiness, "Well, in the summers we'll take the kids out to Massachusetts to visit my mother. We can walk around and check out all of the historical sites, and we can get lunch at Quincy Market and bring it down to that park by the waterfront for a picnic. If it rains we'll take them to the aquarium instead, or to the Science Museum. They have stairs you can walk on that play notes like they're piano keys. I think our daughter would like that, and our son… he'd like the planetarium. We could take them there for the Fourth of July, they do this thing where-"
He's interrupted by a quiet snore, and when he glances over at the passenger's seat he can see that she's fast asleep, her body curled up towards him, her head resting heavily on his hand. Her lips are pursed ever so slightly, but he's sure there's still a smile there as she dreams about their white house with red accents, and the future children who will help them fill it.
There's no chance of getting his arm back, so he lets her keep it as his eyes turn back to the road ahead. His own mind fills with dreams and plans for their future family that he longs to tell her. But as she continues to snore he just smiles and keeps his mouth shut. There will be plenty of time for all of that later.