A/N: I only own Nadine, and even then she's just on loan to me and Peter for a bit.
I stood at the kitchen sink, washing the small, green plastic plate with matching mug. It was a normal everyday thing that most people hated, but I enjoyed the task. It meant that I'd just cooked and that simple fact pleased me.
I smiled as I looked out from the kitchen, into the living room and saw Peter and Nadine. Their heads close together, bent over a sheet of paper with crayons in hand, and though I could easily hear every word they were speaking, I tuned them out. This was their time together and I was happy to just watch.
I finished the dishes quickly, but hesitated to interrupt their time so I leaned against the counter and wondered how in the world I ever got so lucky. Nadine's vibrant laugh exploded from their bubble and Peter's wasn't far behind. The sound of their happiness filled the house and I just stood there mesmerized by the two of them.
As their laughter faded back into the whispered conversation, their heads bowed back towards the paper. I was struck by the similarities between the two of them. They both hold the crayon the same way, with the same slight movements of their heads as they color. They both approach life with the same zeal for living. They seemed to be moving in tandem as they both turned their attention to the kitchen, and me. Nadine giggled and tried to wink at me. She succeeded in rapidly blinking at me while scrunching her face, and I smiled and winked back at her.
"Darlin' you can't look," Peter said with a grin and a wink for Nadine.
"Ok, maybe I should just make some cookies while you two finish up what you're working on," I replied already walking to the refrigerator. I laughed a little as I heard Nadine telling Peter how my cookies are special because of a special ingredient and I tuned them out, giving them back their time together.
My cookies are nothing but a few spoonfuls of dough from the Toll House cookie dough that I picked up at the grocery store earlier in the week, but they make Nadine feel special and so now it will be a staple that I will never be without. It didn't take me long to put the cookie sheet with the two small blobs of dough on it into the oven and I was back to watching the two people I love more than anything on this earth. As the aroma began to fill the two rooms, I watched as Nadine's eyes darted to the kitchen from time to time.
I caught Peter studying the little miracle huddled on the floor with him as she returned her focus to her paper. Absolute devotion washed over his face and he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. He was rewarded with a blinding smile full of a matching devotion as Nadine put down her crayon and threw her arms around his neck. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her and scoop her up.
Once again their laughter filled the house, as I took the cookies out of the oven to cool. When I turned my attention back to them, they were engaged in a serious tickle war. I couldn't resist their laughter anymore. It filled me and drew me to them. I took a seat on the floor near their tickle battle, my own laughter joining theirs as I watched. There was more whispered conversation, and I was ambushed by the pair of them.
I had always considered this house to be a true home for Peter and I, and neither of us realized just how empty is was until Nadine came to us. She completed us in a way that I had never imagined possible. She truly was a special gift.
Peter and I had not been away from Maria's camp for very long when something seemed to be bothering him. Initially, I hadn't been overly worried because I knew that he still grieved over Jasper being left behind. His grief was different this time though. I didn't miss the sad glances that he would give me, or the way it seemed to overwhelm him when he studied me.
"Peter," I finally asked him one night as watched me, "what's bothering you?"
He shook his head and turned his gaze from mine, but that sadness didn't leave him. It was still with him a few nights later, and I went over to him. I stood behind him and wrapped my arms around him as he sat by a fire, gazing into it.
"I hate seeing you like this," I said, and he turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss on my shoulder.
I became worried that he'd grown tired of this new lifestyle and just didn't know quite how to tell me; that he wanted to go back, or missed all the fighting somehow. I moved slightly, intending to move my arms and give him the space he seemed to need to work through his current thoughts. His hands quickly went to mine and he pulled me to his lap and wrapped his arms around me.
He clung to me. I reached up and laid a hand on his cheek. He turned his face into my touch, closed his eyes and pressed a soft kiss into my palm. He didn't speak immediately, and I was content to just be there with him hopefully bringing some peace to his troubled mind.
"I'm sorry Darlin'," he said as his sad eyes met mine. I just smiled at him and shook my head. "You don't even understand it all," he replied and my smile didn't fade. I didn't need to understand, I would do absolutely anything to make this man happy.
He shook his head a little and began to speak. He couldn't look at me as he talked. He told me how selfish he felt with everything that he'd done; how much guilt he carried from it all. Then he began to tell me things about this life that weren't mentioned in the Camp because they weren't important to the War.
I was a little surprised that he mentioned my monthly cycle. Were I still human, I would have been a thousand shades of pink, but I wasn't and he was my Peter so I encouraged him to continue. I had always assumed that it was the shock of the change that had stopped my flow for so long, and that the continued violence perpetuated that. I explained that it had never really bothered me as I knew it would come and go as it wanted to. He told me that no, it was gone forever. That it would never come back, and that we would never have children.
I hurt us both in the few days that followed with my tearless crying. I had resigned myself to the fact that I would never be a mother quickly, to ease the pain for both of us. I had Peter, and that was all I would ever need.
It wasn't until many decades later that he confessed to me that, until he was changed, all he'd wanted was a simple life with a wife and children to love and care for. I was so filled with sorrow that I couldn't give him children. We helped each other through that sadness, it had occasionally haunted one or the both of us over the years, but it overwhelmed me knowing that it had been such an important part of his dreams. I wanted so desperately to be able to give him everything he wanted.
And then Nadine came bounding into our lives and though she was already growing far quicker than either of us wanted her to, she brought us so much joy. She would grow, get older, maybe have a family of her own someday.
She was currently trying to tickle Peter as he held her at an arms length, both of them lost in that moment of joy. I quickly went and rescued her, scooping her up in my arms and peppering her face with kisses.
"It's bath time," I announced to her beautiful laughing face, "and then you get to be the cookie monster."
Peter walked over and wrapped the two of us in his arms, giving us each a kiss on the cheek before going to start the bath water. I stood there, holding her as she told me that before she turned into a monster she had a special surprise for me. I teased her with absurd guesses while we waited on the tub to fill.
When Peter called out that he'd just finished adding fish to the water, I put her down and followed behind as she rushed to the bathroom in a fit of laughter. She splashed and played with her bath toys, the whole time talking about the toys and their names. When her little fingers and toes began to wrinkle, she announced that she was ready to get out of the tub.
I got her all dried off and helped her get into her favorite pair of pajamas, and then she grabbed my hand and grinned up at me and told me to count to 342 then come into the living room. As soon as I nodded, she dropped my hand and took off running into the living room yelling for Peter, telling him it was time.
I smiled and picked up a few toys that were scattered throughout her room, giving the two of them a few minutes to get together whatever it was they had planned.
"Ready or not, here I come," I called out as I walked to the living room after tidying her room.
She met me at the end of the hall with one hand behind her back and that shining smile on her face. Grabbing my hand she led me over to a chair and told me to take a seat. She then handed me a piece of paper, clumsily folded in half. I folded open the paper to see what was on it.
My eyes burned, like they had that night so long ago when Peter broke my heart and told me that I would never be a mother. I turned to look at him, and he just smiled at me. On the paper, Nadine had drawn a picture of a tiny little crooked house and three blob shapes. There were scribbles with lines going to everything.
Beneath the scribbles, in Peter's handwriting, was the translation. She had handed me a picture of her family. The big blob with wild loops branching off the top was her, connected to her by shaky lines coming out of either side were the blobs labeled "Momma" and "Daddy."
She immediately began talking, her chubby little finger poking at the paper as she pointed out herself, then Peter, then me. I scooped her up in my lap, and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek as I held the picture out in front of the two of us. This little girl had just overwhelmed me with her picture. There were no words that could describe the amount of love I felt for this sweet little child.
I praised her picture, and enjoyed the surprise on her face when I told her that it would not be going up on the refrigerator, but into a frame on the wall. She jumped out of my lap in her excitement and ran to Peter to tell him her good news, though he was standing only a few feet away.
He got her cookies, and sat with her as she ate them. I was still studying the drawing. She came over and gave me a hug and kiss, telling me goodnight before Peter went to tuck her in. I sat looking at that picture until Peter rejoined me in the living room.
"You ok Darlin'," he asked as he scooped me up and stole my seat. I finally put the picture on the small table next to the chair and nodded at him. "I thought you might like that little surprise," he chuckled.
"She called us Momma and Daddy," I replied. It was the first time she had since coming to us. She had carefully avoided calling us anything.
"I know. It got me too when she was telling me what she was drawing," was his simple reply.
We sat there, listening as she whispered to her stuffed animals about her drawing being in its own special frame before gradually growing quiet. Then we just listened to the quiet, waiting until it was time for Nadine to wake up again so we could continue to give her all of the love that we felt for her. She was our very special, impossible dream, our little girl.
E/N: And that's the first time I got called Momma.