A/N: This is! literally just nauseating family fluff because I'm obsessed with this fam and creating an origin story for them. Happy Valentine's Day!
It's a silly, commercialized holiday- Emma knows this. But it's also the first Valentine's Day in nearly seven years that Ray's home for, and she loves that for the first time they can do silly heart-shaped chocolate and sappy cards.
"Mommy, I want to make something for Daddy!" Blake looks up eagerly at her, fingers laced together under her chin, propping it up. Emma smiles down at her, tucking some hair behind her ear.
"Okay, sweetie. Let's go see what we have in the craft box, huh?"
Blake takes her hand, tugging her forward impatiently; Emma muffles her laughter, affection welling in her chest. Once they reach the hall closet, she drops her mother's hand and crosses her arms, tapping her toe as she waited. Emma carefully tuck the plastic tub down, setting it on the floor awkward around the bump in her middle.
"We should make Daddy something from the baby, too," Blake says, picking through the construction paper and scraps of ribbon in the box until she found the two tubs of glitter at the bottom. "The cards have to have lots of glitter, Mommy."
"Okay, baby," Emma replies, stroking her hair and smiling at her. "Got what you need?"
Blake nods her head, and Emma's the one to take the glitter, envisioning a disaster with the four year old holding them. Blake stacks her paper and ribbon and lace carefully, and Emma closes the box and pushes it off to the side, following behind her daughter back towards the kitchen. Once there, Blake begins to set her things up on the table while Emma grabs scissors and glue.
"So what kind of card do you want to make?" Emma asks once they're settled, chairs pushed together and Blake pressed close to her.
"A heart!" Blake exclaims, and Emma grins, turning to kiss her temple. "Can you make two Mommy? I'll make the one from the baby for Daddy."
Emma nods, throat clogged with emotion as she picks up a piece of red construction paper and a pair of scissors.
Once three hearts have been cut out- upon Blake's insistence that Emma needed to make a heart card as well- Emma cuts the lace to fit while Blake hems and haws between pink and white ribbon for her card.
"Can I glue it Mommy? Please?" Blake asks, and Emma uncaps a glue stick and hands it to her.
"Carefully, please," Emma instructs. Blake nods, and sticks her tongue out in concentration as she smears glue all over the construction paper. Together, they affix the lace and then ribbon to the three cards, and Blake fidgets as they wait for them to dry. "You want to write in red or black, baby? We'll do the glitter after."
"Black. So I can do red glitter!" Blake picks up said marker, uncapping it with a flourish that causes Emma to laugh. "What should I write, Mommy?"
"Why don't you tell him that you love him?" Emma suggests, and Blake sets to work immediately, tiny face set in concentration. Emma watches her, smiling, and Blake looks up, tilting her head.
"What is it, Mommy?" she asks, and Emma shakes her head, leaning forward to kiss her hair.
"Nothing, sweetie. It looks beautiful," she tells her, and Blake beams. "Are you going to do black for the baby's card too?"
Blake shakes her head, picking up the red marker.
"This way I can use the silver glitter!" she explains, and Emma nods seriously. "How do you spell baby, Mommy?"
Emma helps her finish the second card, and then it's time for the glitter. She can practically feel Blake vibrating in excitement beside her as Emma opens the bottle of liquid glue, and she outlines the first heart carefully.
"Slowly, honey. We don't want it to get everywhere," she reminds Blake, and the little girl very slowly tips the glitter over, shaking it over the glue. It makes less of a mess than Emma had thought it would, and so she has Blake carefully do the second card. "What should we do while they dry?"
"Cupcakes!" Blake cries, and Emma grins, tickling her sides.
"Alright. Valentine's Day cupcakes it is."
Exhaustion is weighing on his shoulders as Ray parks the truck outside the house, but the moment he sees the lights glowing through the windows, his lips curl up into a smile.
He grabs his bag and heads for the door; the moment he has it open, there's the patter of small feet on the hardwood, and he bends down to scoop up the Blake-sized missile heading for his knees.
"Daddy! You're home!" is shouted in his ear as thin arms wrap around his neck, and Ray grins. "Happy Valentine's Day!"
Blake pulls back, a grin on her lips, and Ray kisses her cheek.
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby girl," he tells her, reaching into the bag and pulling out a pink teddy bear, watching Blake's eyes widen.
"Is she for me?!" she asks, and hugs it to her chest tightly when he nods. "I love her, Daddy."
"And I love you," he replies, pressing their foreheads together and letting his eyes close briefly. He looks up at the sound of new footsteps, face softening at the sight of Emma, leaning against the doorframe and watching the two of them with a soft smile on her face.
"Hey," she says, voice quiet, and Ray moves forward, hand sliding into her hair as he pressed his mouth to hers, gentle but firm. "Hmm. Happy Valentine's Day."
"Happy Valentine's Day, baby," he replies, kissing her again. Emma smiles up at him, palm on his chest.
"Daddy, we made you cards!" Blake taps on his head gently, vying for his attention. Emma nods, stepping back until she can reach for his hand, pulling him with her.
"Blake did an excellent job- she's a real artist," Emma tells him, and Blake nods vigorously. Ray grins, squeezing Blake until she giggled. She shifted, asking to be let down, and Ray lets her slip down to the ground- she scampers off, and comes back with two pieces of cardboard.
"Here Daddy!" Blake offers them to him, and Ray lowers to one knee so they're more level, inspecting both cards.
"These are so pretty, honey," he tells her, and as he reads the second card, emotion wells himself. "And you made one from the baby, too?"
Blake nodded, shifting shyly in place and looking at her toes. Ray pulls her closer, kissing her forehead before burying her in a hug.
"These are the best cards I've ever gotten, Blake," he tells her, watching her face break out into a beaming grin.
"We made cupcakes too? Do you want one?" she asks, and Ray smiles, nodding.
"Carefully, baby. Take it from the plate on the counter, I left the stool," Emma tells her, and Blake nods before taking off. Ray stands, facing Emma and lifting a hand to touch her cheek gently.
"How do you feel?" he asks, his other hand coming to rest against the curve of her belly. Emma's hand covers his, squeezing gently.
"I'm perfect, Ray. Blake and I had a great day, you're home- this was all I needed," she tells him, sliding her hand up his arm. "It's already the best Valentine's Day in years."
Ray smiles, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a slim velvet-covered box. "Then I guess I should return this, huh?"
Emma snatches it from his hands, lifting an eyebrow.
"I mean. Since you already bought it…" she trails off, lips curving into a grin. She snaps the box open, gasping softly at the necklace within- a small blue stone on a thin gold chain.
"Your birthstone," Ray explains, and Emma looks up at him, eyes damp as she smiles. "Here, let me put it on."
Emma hands the box to him and turns, twisting her hair up and away from her neck. Ray lays the necklace over her neck, and closes the clasp before placing a kiss to her neck.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Em," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her, and Emma snuggles into him, turning to kiss his cheek.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Ray," she murmurs back, resting her head against his.
There's a crash in the kitchen, and then a tiny voice saying "Oops!", and Emma snorts, shaking her head.
"Mommy, I dropped something!" Blake calls, and Emma moves away from Ray.
"We're coming, sweetie. Don't get off the stool, I don't want you to step on something," she calls back, and she turns to Ray, still smiling. "Wouldn't be a Gaines family holiday without a broken plate, right?"
"That was one Thanksgiving," he protests, and Emma laughs.
"Come on. You know I don't bend well anymore."
"You bent pretty well last-"
"You even think about finishing that sentence and there'll be no more private bending in your near future."
