A/N: Requested by papashaw on tumblr, inspired by an adooooorable video on youtube.
Luke studied himself in the mirror for a good long while on Saturday morning after stepping out of the shower. The bags under his eyes made him look like a corpse from the morgue, and the way his face was beginning to droop just a little above his cheeks... He didn't look good.
Closing the 'Slasher' case was a big deal but the case destroyed him from the inside out. When he sat there thinking about the sick thing that guy was doing to those prostitutes. When he thought that this a world he brought a daughter into...
The trick as a detective was not to think about, he supposes. And he had days off coming up thanks to all the overtime he banked this month, and he knew exactly how he wanted to spend them. Just him, Gail and Hannah.
"Luke!" Gail yells from inside the bedroom, taking Luke by surprise. And with what little sleep he had, he jumps, knocking the cup containing their toothbrushes to the floor.
"Yeah, just a sec." He replies, running his hand across his bearded chin.
"Hurry up, breakfast is ready." She calls, only a little more softly. Gail is hard as nails sometimes, but he still feels like she's the only person on the planet who knows him inside out. To be honest, he understands why people were shocked when they got together, but he's glad that they did. She infuriates him to no end some days. Most days. But they just work.
Whether it's bickering about his schedule ("There's a reason you have a couch in your office, idiot. Hope Swarek keeps you warm."), his beard ("Don't put that beard anywhere near my-"), the way he plays airplane with Hannah ("You have chicken legs Luke, they're going to buckle and she's going to scarred."), they always end up in a seamless compromise that they never meant to get to. Sometimes he wonders if she's clever enough for that to be her design.
"Be there soon." He says, even though she's already walked away. Ten days off. Ten days with his beautiful little girl, and wife. He smiles slowly, and watches the light return to his eyes.
Ten evenings of family dinners. Ten days of whatever Hannah can dream up. Ten nights to give Gail the attention she's deserved from him.
(He got a text from her last week when he was at the division late, a picture of his empty spot on the bed.)
He picks up his shaving cream and applies it to his neck, chin, cheeks. Everywhere.
When he does finally strides into the kitchen, Hannah is sitting in her high chair, popping hash browns into her mouth and wiggling along to whatever song was on the radio, and Gail is at the stove dishing him up a plate of her scrambled eggs and fruit salad.
(He thinks maybe Elaine created a monster when she dragged Gail off to a cooking convention when they told her they were expecting. Gail was the leader of the resistance at first, but soon found a kind of therapy in it.
They were in a fight, she baked. When Hannah was teething and inconsolable, when Luke would come home, she'd hand the baby over and disappear into the kitchen. She was soothed by it. It made sense to her. You follow a recipe, you get the same results.)
So he walks up behind his wife, hand sliding around her waist to the small bump that showed there now, and nuzzled her neck, getting ready for a reaction. Gail began a pre-emptive complaint, thinking she was about to scratched up, but just she began to slide away, she stopped.
Gail's hand found its way to his neck and up to his clean shaven face, and she turned around slowly.
"Who are you, and where's the hipster I've been living with." She says after noticing he's also back to plain white t-shirts and not a typical plaid button-up. "You're aware I can operate a fire arm, right?"
He grins at Gail, who's suppressing a smile of her own. She's only been telling him to "mow that damn thing" for weeks now, and in many different ways...
"Kicked him out. Looked borderline homeless." He says, reaching around her for the plate that had his name on it.
She puts one hand on his face, and soothes it with her thumb, before leaning in to kiss his hairless face.
"My hero." She says, a little too sweetly for Luke's comfort. And as he looks at her quizzically and turns to greet Hannah, she laughs, no... cackles.
"Hi Banana." He says, giving her a kiss on the cheek before sliding into his seat across from her. He sets his plate down and then looks up to where his girl is happily seated, he notices his happy little girl, isn't so happy.
Her eyes are wide, and she's staring with her big blues right into his, and they're pooling with tears.
"Nana-bear, what's wrong?" He asks, confused as to what just happened here. And that's what sets her off. She's wailing for Gail, and she obliges, swooping in quickly, and pulling her out of the chair, bouncing her and patting her hair.
Luke stands and follows her to the deck where Gail's wandering to and tries to get the sobbing toddler to look at him, but she keeps getting redder, and crying harder.
"Hannah, it's daddy." He says, trying to convince her that it's really him. He didn't expect the beard to alter his appearance so much to her, but apparently it's become such a favourite feature, that without it, this is just some random man in her house. "Banana..."
He hears Gail trying to stifle her laughs, and focus on calming Hannah down, but at one point she just loses it.
"I am so the favourite now." She tells him, rocking Hannah gently while the crying starts to quiet. "Did daddy scar you- I mean scare you baby?"
Luke just looks at her like he's at his patience end and she's just pushing him now.
"Remind me why I'm having another child with you?" He asks, a little snottily, just wanting his darling girl to look at him without any fear in her big eyes.
"Because one of these kids has to love you." She smirks, beginning to laugh all over again.
He just looks at her with all the contempt he can muster and she finally lets go of the smirk, and turns Hannah in her arms to face Luke.
"Banana, it's me, it's daddy." He says, smiling.
"No!" She shouts, getting an offended look on her face, just like Gail's. Gail sighs and pats their daughters head, and places a kiss on the top of her head before looking up at Luke who has an 'idea' face.
Gail creases her eyebrows in confusion for a second before he wiggles his fingers at her and winks.
"Hannah, do I have to go get the tickle monster?" He asks, watching recognition hit her, hard. She starts squirming in Gail's arms, trying to find a way to escape what she now knows is coming. Gail holds her tight, smiling at the two of them as Luke scoops Hannah up into his arms and begins his attack.
Hannah begins smiling, and shrieking and wiggling as much as she can, and Luke laughs at her limited mobility, relishes in her laugh. Wants to hear that precious sound for every moment that he's breathing.
As he decides that it's been long enough and he wants her to catch her breath so she doesn't pass out, they fall onto the couch in the living room, Hannah on his stomach. And as she wiggles up a little higher on his chest, she traps his clean face between her chubby hands and inspects him intently.
After feeling the smoother surface and giving him a tight hug around the neck, she finally sighs "Dada" into his ear, and he melts for her all over again.
When he goes to sit her in her high chair, Gail's putting their juice on the table, sliding into her seat next to his. And before he digs into the no doubt delicious breakfast she's whipped up this morning, Gail puts her hand over his.
"That is why we're having another baby." She kisses him quickly before turning her attention to the high chair to make sure that 90% of Hannah's food doesn't end up on the floor.
Yeah, he does love this.