AN: The scenes of this story are not in chronological order.
Wonder
He pushes through the doorway, arms laden with plastic shopping bags that weigh heavy on his wrists, cut off the circulation to his fingertips and he rushes inside, dropping everything on the kitchen floor.
"Shhh not so loud," Kate hushes him from the couch, but her voice is calm, affectionate; she's not even looking up at him as she speaks.
He blows onto his frozen fingertips, kneads them to get his blood flowing again. The frigid January wind howls around the corners of the building, the first predicted snow flurries now sailing from the sky, icy crystals that shimmer and sparkle in the pale afternoon light. He steps to the room's thermostat, checks the settings but it's warm inside, making his cheeks glow.
They were out of a few essentials so he went to the store, just around the corner but, well okay, yes he overdid it again but he wanted, needed everything stocked, wanted anything available that they could possibly want so they wouldn't have to leave the loft again at all, preferably for days. It's cozy and quiet here; their safe haven.
He walks around the couch, carefully sinks down into the seat cushion next to Kate who's huddled into its corner. Her legs are drawn up at a slight angle and the baby is lying on her thighs, her head by Kate's knees and the little legs kicking erratically. She pushes her feet off Kate's stomach, her arms flailing, fists balled and she tries to shove them in her mouth for a moment before they wave through the air once more.
Kate rests her palm on the girl's chest, humming soothing sounds and he watches in awe as the baby's jerky movements calm at her mother's touch, her little body relaxing incrementally. Her eyes hone in on Kate, and focus; wide open, an almost celestial blue shining with such bright interest, so much curiosity at her surroundings that it takes his breath away.
Only three days old and he feels as if he knows her already, her personality displayed in all the facets of her eyes. Bright intellect paired with her father's curiosity and her mother's compassion, an effervescent personality that will draw everybody in, keep them on their toes.
"I can't stop staring at her," Kate admits quietly, her eyes riveted on her baby. She draws a fingertip over her cheek and the girl turns her head at the touch, seeking the digit with her mouth, pursing her rosebud lips as if ready to nurse and they both laugh at her eagerness. Kate continues her journey, trailing her index finger over her shoulder and down her arm until she's nudging the baby's palm and the tiny, slim fingers grab onto her digit and hold on tight, so tight.
He reaches out, cradles his daughter's tiny foot within his hand, its imprint barely half the size of his palm and suddenly he has to blink away the sheen of tears over his eyes, the well of emotion at this tiny being, so helpless and dependent on them, so eager for the world, so beautiful and perfect.
Their daughter watches them, wide-eyed and observant and his heart thunders, his insides leaping with the unmistakable warmth of intense, unconditional love. He wraps an arm around Kate, tugging her tightly to his side, needing her warmth, her presence; the knowledge that they share all of this, the responsibly and the wonder, this absolute miracle that is their child.
He presses a lingering kiss to Kate's cheek, her skin warm and silky, so familiar against his lips. "Thank you for our daughter."
