Now and Then Chapter 35: What's in a Name?, a skins fanfic

Sorry once again for the ridiculous amount of time that has passed between updates. I thought my life was going to settle down a bit, but no such luck. I appreciate you all bearing with me.

FYI - the ever wonderful Miss Marauder is also incredibly busy at the moment, and as a result, this chapter is being posted unbeta'd. So, if you spot any particularly egregious errors, please let me know so that I can fix them.

Haven't done a disclaimer in a while so:

I don't own Skins, (it's true, I don't)
I wish I did, but it seems I won't
I don't own Skins at all, my dears
And won't own Skins, despite my tears
It's sad, I think, as I'd treat it right
Much better, sure, than those paid to write
I don't own Skins, it's sad but true
But if I did, I'd share it with you.

(Couldn't resist. You'll see why.)

~o0o~

Chapter 35 - What's in a Name

It's a train wreck - an absolute fucking train wreck - and Naomi cannot tear her eyes away.

The flat is chock-filled with women she doesn't know, of all ages and complexions, sizes and dress sense (some with very little of the latter at all). In fact, other than Katie and Effy, and of course Panda and her mother, she does not know anyone else present besides Emily. It is just a wall to wall sea of unfamiliar, and slightly terrifying, faces. The fact that all these women can seem so fucking excited to be at a bloody baby shower is frankly disturbing.

Normally the plethora of new faces would be enough to send Naomi bolting, but before she can even consider it her attention is caught by the decorations - sickeningly sweet and profoundly tacky baby shower decorations – that are scattered about absolutely everywhere. Every nook and cranny is filled will some baby-themed knick-knack. The bizarreness of the display, and particularly of it being in this flat of all flats – a flat owned and shared by Katie Fitch and Effy Stonem - is utterly, stunningly, gob-smacking.

There are dummy/soother-shaped Mylar balloons in assorted pastels hanging from the ceiling and lamps, and even, in one case, drooping down from a poor, unsuspecting house plant.

There are "onesie" streamers in all the colours of the rainbow.

There are "Welcome Baby!" swirly things dangling along every square centimetre of available wall space.

And sweet fucking hell, there's a clearly homemade banner screaming out, "HAIL TO THE BUMP!" stretched across the top of the sliding door to the balcony.

The whole effect stretches credulity and comprehension. But that is not all of it. Oh, no. There is more: The pièce de resistance, the thing that has rendered Naomi truly awestruck in fascinated horror, is a brightly coloured, mildly misshapen baby carriage-shaped piñata hanging in the corner.

Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to have people whack the hell out of a baby carriage?

All in all, it looks like a demented pound shop puked its baby aisle all over the flat.

It is beyond hideous and Naomi cannot conceive of how in hell Effy Stonem, of all people, let this happen.

She is so lost in her amazed gaping that she does not notice when Emily slips up beside her.

"Jesus, Naoms, you need to stop staring! It's starting to get rude."

Naomi literally has to shake her head to snap herself out of it. She looks over at her lover, but all she can muster is a stunned, "What the fuck happened here?"

Emily grins evilly, almost gleeful at the idea of this degree of tackiness taking over her twin's space.

"Angela happened. Katie said she arrived here few hours ago and barged in, arms loaded. She nixed all the decorating they had done – literally tore some of it off the walls! - and started hanging this shit like a mad woman. Given how shite Katie and Effy were to her back in college, neither one had the bottle to say "no." It's like this is some kind of sick penance. It's fucking brilliant, isn't it? God, I have to get pictures. We're going to be able to rub this in for years!"

With that, Emily dekes off into the crowd, mobile in hand. Her delight in her sister's misery is contagious and Naomi chuckles at the thought of just how much she will be able to torment Effy about all this as well. It's fucking perfect, is what it is. And it certainly explains Effy's little display at with the swear jar. Now, if only dear Angela can manage to rope Effy into playing the shower games Naomi's day will be complete.

Just then she hears her name being shrieked from across the room: "Naomi fucking Campbell! Awesome-pops!"

That is all the warning that Naomi gets before a hurtling ball of very pregnant Panda lands in her arms. She barely manages to stay on her feet, and that is thanks only to the fact that she stumbles into the wall before she can actually hit the floor.

"Oomph. Jeez, Panda! Nice to see you, too."

With a little gentle prodding Naomi manages to prompt Panda to stand upright and loosen her hold. But the mother-to-be's excitement is not to be dampened.

"It's bloody whizzer that you're here, Naomi. It's been for-fucking-ever since I saw you. You look a fuck-ton better now than you did then, if you don't mind me saying. Eff says you're back with Emily-Pemily? You must be shagging like bunnies, right? Is she here? She must be here, yeah? Where is she?"

Naomi is stunned by the rapid-fire Panda-isms, but manages to track enough of it to see the escape hatch that Panda has offered. She feels fleetingly guilty for what she is about to do, but "needs must."

"Emily? Oh yes, she's here. She's just there by the telly. You see? I'm sure she'd love to see you Panda, if you want to head her way…"

It feels almost cruel to set up her lover like this, but Naomi can't quite manage to feel bad about it, especially when she sees Emily's startled face as she gets the full Panda bear-hug treatment, too. She watches the reunion for a few minutes. Well, in all honestly, she watches Emily for a few minutes. The rest of the crowd is incidental, including poor Panda. Naomi can never get enough of seeing her love smile and laugh, and today is no exception. But, her blissful moment of staring is interrupted by a rather stiff elbow to her side.

"Stop fucking daydreaming, Nai, and help, will you?"

It appears that the typically placid Effy is beginning to lose her shit. It would be amusing if it did not hold the very real potential for carnage. So, Naomi merely rubs her bruised rib and meekly takes the tray of hors d'oeuvres that Effy hands her. She almost chokes when she sees what they are: deviled eggs, shaped like prams, with half an egg for the basket and a quarter egg perched on the edge of it for the bonnet and pickle slices tooth-picked on for wheels. It is utterly fucking appalling and yet weirdly enthralling all at the same time. The fact that they actually came out of Effy's kitchen is enough to make Naomi question everything she knows about her friend.

"Not one fucking word, Campbell, or I'll end you. Not one. Fucking. Word!"

Naomi couldn't speak if she wanted to. She watches her agitated friend stomp off with a mixture of pity and amusement before staring back down at the tray in her hands and shaking her head. If anyone had ever told her that Effy Stonem would be hosting a baby shower and serving deviled eggs, she would have assumed them mad even without the added detail of the eggs being pram-shaped. A wide grin splashes across her face as she thinks to herself, "This day just keeps getting better and better!" And to think, she almost decided not to come!

As she circulates with the tray, Naomi takes note of the few games scattered about the space. There is none of the typical diaper chocolate grossness, but there are still game sheets for baby gift bingo (dear God!) with squares for sleepers and onesies and teddy bears and musical mobiles. There is a "guess the baby food" station that is not getting many takers – no one is in too much of a hurry to taste-test stewed prunes and puréed peas, she presumes. But there is one game that catches Naomi's attention right away in a good way. Just to add to her enjoyment, Emily is already standing by it scribbling away on her own answer sheet.

"Hey Ems. Are you winning?"

Emily looks up with a beaming smile when she hears her lover's voice. "Not sure. I've had to guess at a couple, but I think I'm managing."

"It's a clever idea, isn't it?" the blonde replies.

"Oh sure! Says the book worm who's going to kick everyone's ass!"

It is said with a laugh, and Naomi can't help but acknowledge the truth beneath the statement. For this is a game of books. And Naomi knows books. There is a page with a list of famous quotes from classic children's stories. The shower guests have to guess what book the lines are from and there are bonus points if they can guess the author correctly, too.

"Panda's Aunt came up with it, apparently. The best part is that her gift to Panda is all the books the quotes are from. Brilliant, yeah?"

Naomi nods. "Yeah. That's sweet."

The blonde is already reaching for a pen and paper to put in her guesses, which are not really guesses at all. She knows and loves these books, each and every damn one. Emily leans over to kiss Naomi on the cheek, completely smitten by the way the blonde is instantly absorbed in the game. "I'm going to go mingle, Naoms. Come find me later?"

Naomi looks up and returns the kiss whole-heartedly. "Absolutely. Have fun!"

As soon as Emily moves away, Naomi is back on task. The list brings back a lot of good memories:

"As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be."

"There should be a place where only the things you want to happen, happen."

"In the great green room there was a telephone And a red balloon."

"You don't have any shoes on and you smell like a dragon's ear."

"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you."

Naomi gets them all, authors included, and the memories that go with them make her smile. She has a crystal clear recollection of Gina reading to her every night when she was a child, and then getting Naomi to read to her once she was old enough to sound out the words. These joint reading sessions lasted until Naomi hit her teens and put a stop to it. Looking back, she is pretty sure that she broke Gina's heart more than a little bit the day that she called it quits. She was angry back then, about her missing father, about Gina's bohemian ways and the boat-loads of stray lodgers, about pretty much everything and anything under the sun and moon. She was too angry to take comfort in the books or in her mother. She wishes now, thinking back, that she had been a little gentler about it all. And she is grateful that Gina is the loving and forgiving soul that she is.

Naomi deposits her answer sheet in the little bin set out for the purpose and then shakes off her melancholy by going in search of the one person whom she knows will cheer her up. She finds Emily not far away at another "station." This one requires the guests to write a little something on a note card for the baby. The notes will be put in a baby book at the end of the shower as a keepsake.

Emily, of course, writes something loving and sweet, wishing the soon-to-be-newborn a life of love and happiness in which every dream comes true. Naomi has no idea what to write, so she takes a moment to flip through some of the other entries. She laughs out loud when she sees that Katie has written out toddler fashion advice: Burberry and Armani Junior are acceptable, OshKosh and Baby Gap, apparently not. It is so perfectly Katie that Naomi cannot help but smile, even as she shakes her head in disbelief.

Angela, true to form, has warned against sex and drugs and boys and girls and essentially everything fun and interesting that life has to offer. Naomi notices that there is no note from Effy among the many slips of paper. She is not surprised. Effy and Panda have a complicated but deep-running friendship, and Effy is not likely to be able to summarize her thoughts about her old friend's first child in a sentence or two, let alone be willing to put them out in plain view for all to see. But Panda is Panda and they have been friends through thick and thin – through silence, through breakdowns (Effy will never stop loving the memory of Panda making her great escape into her hospital room hopping on the ball, although she could have done without the fucking song that followed), through infidelity and through the passing of years.

Panda is Panda and the place she holds in Effy's heart defies explanation and description. Still, Naomi knows without doubt that Effy will love this child fiercely (lucky child) simply because she is Panda's, and whether Effy can express that with pen and paper or not, Panda will understand. Because Effy's message, really, is wrapped up in this baby shower. There is no one else on earth she would do this for, and if asked, Naomi doubts that Effy would be able to fully out in words why she is willing to do it for Panda. But here they all are, surrounded by spectacularly awful décor and under the direction of Angela Moon of all people. And the message in that simple reality speaks far louder than any few written words ever could.

In the end, for her own message Naomi decides to take a page from the other game, and jots down two of her favourite quotes:

"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think;" and

"Listen to the mustn'ts, child. Listen to the don'ts. Listen to the shouldn'ts, the impossibles, the won'ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me... Anything can happen, child. Anything can be."

Both passages provide invaluable advice, in Naomi's view, worth remembering all through life. She kind of wishes she had held those words a little closer to her own heart over the years. And she is profoundly grateful because she and Emily are pretty much living out the second one.

"Right, everyone. Gift time! Gather round!"

The shrill shriek of Angela's voice carves its way through the room and brings an instant hush in the hubbub of conversations before the throng moves almost as one to take up spots around the chair reserved for Panda (clearly identified by the bright pink "Baby Mama" pound-store plastic throw that covers it). Naomi quickly seeks out Emily, unwilling to suffer through this next phase without her lover by her side.

The gifts are opened amongst much "ooh-ing" and "ahh-ing," and a whole slew of "whizzer!"s from Panda. There are few surprises to be found, with the singular exception of a truly beautiful pagne print wrap that Mrs. Tomone gives to Panda. It is made of a bright, colorful fabric with stark geometric shapes that is classically Congolese. It is stunning in and of itself, but the best part of the gift are the words spoken by Mrs. Tomone once Panda has opened it:

"Panda Moon Tomone: In the Congolese culture, a newborn child is the responsibility of the whole community. And this is good, because, although, as is said in one of the proverbs of Africa, 'Children are the reward of life,' they are also a challenge; a most wonderful, but also daunting challenge, as you and my Thomas will soon learn. And so, I promise you now that I, and the rest of the Tomone family, will stand beside you as you rise to meet that challenge. We are your community now, Pandora, yours and your child's. You are my son's chosen wife and we are your family, just as you are ours."

From the look on Panda's face, it appears that this may be the first concrete sign that she has ever received that she is fully accepted into her new family. It is such a sweet moment, and Panda's teary-eyed thank you embrace of her mother-in-law is so poignant, that Naomi finds herself holding her breath. Panda may be a little odd, but she has a big heart. It really is wonderful to know that she will have the support of her extended family when the baby is born.

Finally, Panda manages to collect herself and return to the chair of honour. The gift unveilings continue until, when there are only three gifts left to unwrap, someone yells out "Bingo" – the "baby bullet baby food mixer" was apparently the last item needed to spell out the magic word on her bingo card.

When, at long last, all the gifts have been opened and their assorted ribbons and bows firmly attached to the ugly hat sitting precariously, but proudly, on Panda's head, a low murmur begins as all the party goers who had been fixated on the gift opening begin to chat amongst themselves. Some of them use the time to talk to Panda about the baby, who is due in a matter of just a few weeks.

"I can't believe you still don't know if it's a girl or boy!"

"Thomas wants to be surprised. Like he says, it's not like we won't love the little nugget either way. I mean, like, I can't wait for 'til I can nibble its little toes and boop its little nose no matter if it's a girl or a boy!" Panda's genuine excitement and joy radiate through her words and it is easy for Naomi to envision her friend "booping" exactly as described.

"Have you picked out any names yet?" The question comes from an older woman whom Naomi believes was introduced as one of Angela's work colleagues.

"Well, I wanted to go for "Cub" – you know, like a Panda cub? I thought that would be bloody brill, but, Thomas nixed it. Too bad, right?"

There are a couple of indulgent nods, but for the most part those still listening seem happy that Thomas' wishes have prevailed on this one. It is clear that Thomas' mother is particularly relieved if the rather pinched expression on her face is anything to go by.

The next minutes are filled with a multitude of suggestions, from the relatively sublime (Kate, Joshua, Alex) to the patently ridiculous (Bear, Prometheus, Sirius)

Naomi is actually enjoying the silliness of it all. At least she is right up until she hears Emily chime in.

"I like Jacob and Hanna. I know they are a little old fashioned, but still… they're nice."

Naomi's eyes almost bug out of her head, but she doesn't comment. She doesn't say a thing. She doesn't move. She doesn't even breathe, she is so taken aback. Emily notices her lover stiffen beside her, and tries very, very hard not to be too nervous about what that means.

The conversation continues on with more good and bad name suggestions, but Naomi stays quiet. Eventually she spots Effy across the room tidying up torn wrapping paper and discarded ribbons and she leaps up to help with a relieved sigh.

"I'm uh.., I'm just going to give Eff a hand, yeah?"

She doesn't look at Emily when she speaks, and the twin's heart sinks.

"Fuck." The word is muttered almost silently by Emily as she watches Naomi escape – and there is no question that it is an escape, the blonde's nervousness leaching out of every pore as she makes her way to Effy's side. Emily knew that mentioning baby names would cause some kind of reaction from Naomi, but she had hoped for better than this. She contemplates getting up to ask Naomi to talk about it, but decides that it is better to give her lover a little space. With a sigh, she turns back to where Panda is still holding court, and tries not to worry too much.

Naomi, by contrast, is freaking out. She is shoving paper into a bin bag with such zeal that that the bag is starting to tear.

"The fuck's wrong with you, Campbell?" Effy snarls.

"Nothing. Sorry. It's just… nothing."

Effy gives her friend a hard look.

"Right. To the balcony for a fag. Now."

There is no arguing with Effy when she is in this kind of mood, so Naomi meekly nods and follows her friend. They make their way under the god-awful banner and out the sliding doors. They are instantly hit by a wave of cool air and the sounds and smells of the city. It is bracing and, frankly, a pleasant relief from the clamour inside.

"Right. What happened?" Effy has a cigarette already cocked between her lips, a match flaring at its tip as she speaks. She sighs with a deep contentment after the first drag hits home.

"Nothing." Naomi's response doesn't even sound convincing to her, and it is clear from the decidedly unimpressed look that Effy shoots her that the brunette isn't buying any of it.

"Fine. Emily has baby names picked out. Satisfied?"

"So?"

"So?! So, she has baby names picked out, Effy! Fucking baby names!"

"Yeah. And?"

"And… and… Jesus, Eff, we're only just back together, aren't we? And she's picked out baby names! We've never even discussed it!"

"So, let me get this straight. She mentions possible baby names – in the context of a baby shower, mind you - and you immediately run screaming off in terror like a pillock. Is that basically it?"

Naomi looks gob-smacked at her friend. "I didn't run screaming off. And it wasn't fucking right away, either. And it's fucking baby names!"

"Hmmm. And what exactly makes you think Emily having possible baby names picked out has anything to do with you? I mean, she could have picked them out years ago, couldn't she? It could be entirely abstract."

That had not occurred to Naomi. In fact, not much of anything had occurred to Naomi beyond the sheer shock of thinking about Emily Fitch imagining having babies with her.

"I suppose you left the poor girl sitting there without a word when you ran off, did you?" Effy's disappointment stings. Again, Naomi has no good answer.

"It's not like I just ran off. I mean, I told her I was going to help you…"

"Which you decided to do suddenly and right after she happened to talk about baby names. Any guesses on how that has left her feeling right about now?"

Naomi stares at her friend who is staring flatly back, woefully unimpressed.

"Fuck."

"Yeah. Fuck. You need to go fix this, Nai. And sooner than later, right?" With that, Effy flicks her butt over the railing and slides open the door to the flat. She looks back to where Naomi is standing with her arms now wrapped around her stomach in unease.

"Just talk to her. And try not to be too much of an idiot, yeah?"

Naomi watches the door slide shut, her anxiety climbing as she wonders just how badly she has fucked up. She lights up her own smoke and breathes deeply in an effort to calm her nerves. And when the fag is finished she squares her shoulders and re-enters the flat. She needs to talk to Emily.

The twin is not in the lounge or in any other area that Naomi can see from the balcony doorway. That causes her a moment's pause. She is wandering through the flat with the thought that perhaps Emily is in the bathroom when she catches a glimpse of her out of the corner of her eye. Emily is in the kitchen washing dishes, her back facing towards Naomi. The blonde watches for a moment, taken anew by just how much the sight of Emily affects her. Finally, Naomi moves forward, taking pains not to startle Emily as she steps up to her side.

"Hey." It is not a terribly original opening, but Naomi doesn't really know how to start this conversation.

Emily looks to her left to where Naomi is standing, and wipes a gloved wrist across her forehead to push a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "Hey."

Naomi spots a tea towel on the counter and picks it up. She grabs a glass out of the drip rack and starts to dry as Emily turns back to continue washing.

"You want to tell me what that was about?" Emily is working hard to keep her voice neutral and non-accusatory, but the hurt shines through anyway. It catches at Naomi's heart and, as she is ever wont to do when her emotions get too big, she immediately starts to deflect.

"Not sure what you mean, Ems…."

Emily's neutral façade shifts into a glare as she hears her lover's words. "No. Don't do that, Naoms. It's obvious that there is a problem. You freaked out and we need to talk about it, so please don't give me that 'not sure what you mean' bollocks. It's insulting."

Naomi gulps, instantly feeling small. "It's nothing, Em. You haven't done anything… I mean it. It's just… you surprised me, and, well… I kind of suck at surprises. Obviously."

"You were surprised that I have favourite names? Seriously?"

"Well, no. I mean, kind of. I mean, you really think about things like that?"

Emily is feeling pretty unsettled as a result of Naomi running off, and she decides not to make this easy on the blonde. She wants to hear Naomi say it, to acknowledge that she freaked out about the idea of having babies. "Things like what?"

Naomi knows that this is not an ideal place or time to have this conversation, but it is blatantly obvious that waiting is not going to be an option. She is still nervous about it though, and as a result her answer is practically a whisper. "About baby names."

Emily knows exactly how nervous Naomi is about this, and she has to decide how to handle that. She tries to push aside her hurt and think about it in a productive way. The choice is really quite simple: she can be honest or she can down play her feelings to avoid potential conflict. All her instincts tell her to avoid the conflict, to make sure Naomi is happy and unruffled, to subvert her own feelings like she used to do. But all the work she has done to heal in the past years and years tells her otherwise. She can practically hear Dr. Cochrane telling her to stay true to herself and to stand up for herself. So she does.

"Sometimes. Yeah. I do."

Naomi nods, still unthinkingly drying the same glass that she first picked up. "You, um… you want kids?"

Emily blushes at the directness of the question. She did not actually expect that from Naomi. But she can't really complain now that the obvious question has been asked. There is a long pause as she tries to find the best way to formulate her response.

"Well, that depends, doesn't it?"

"Depends on what?"

Emily stops pretending to wash more dishes and takes a long look at Naomi, trying to gauge once again whether it is safe to say what she really feels; trying to figure out if Naomi is ready, or even able, to hear it. But, they promised to be honest with each other, and Emily is supposed to be working on being an equal partner in this relationship, so once again, she digs deep and answers with the truth.

"When I was with you I thought about it. A fair bit, actually, for a while. But after we split, I couldn't really imagine it anymore."

Naomi finally puts the thoroughly dry glass down on the counter, placing the towel along-side it. She turns until she is looking right at Emily, their eyes locking. She needs that connection with Emily when she asks the next question.

"And now…"

Emily drops her eyes and swallows hard before she takes a deep breath and seeks out her lover's eyes once more.

"Well,... now… I can imagine it again."

It is said so simply, as Emily grasps on to every ounce of courage she can marshal to get the words out. There is no demand behind them, not even any expectation. But there is a question, and they both know it. Naomi may not be ready to answer it right now, but it cannot be ignored forever. The blonde is floored, and stands staring at Emily with her mouth gaping open like a guppy.

Emily knows that she has just dropped a bomb, so she decides to give Naomi some space to process it. She turns back to the sink full of dishes and starts going through the motions of washing them again. She expects Naomi to take opportunity to leave the kitchen, to flee at the first possible chance; she is actually waiting for it, waiting for the mumbled excuse and the awkward exit. But doesn't happen.

Naomi's first instinct is to bolt, if only so that she can think this through before saying anything. But that is mostly because she is pretty sure if she doesn't think it through first she'll fuck the whole thing up. She doesn't bolt though. She is too aware of how closely Emily is watching her, while trying desperately not to look like she's watching at all. She is too aware of how nervous the twin is, and of how devastating it would be for Emily, after baring her soul like this, to watch Naomi walk away. And after the little push from Effy on the balcony, Naomi realizes how very important it is that she consider Emily's feelings and insecurities before she toddles off to take care of her own.

And so she stays, and as she muses, she resumes drying the dishes and stacking them carefully on the counter for Katie or Effy to put away later. She still doesn't say anything. The truth is, that she is overwhelmed by Emily's admission, but not necessarily – or at least not entirely - in a bad way. They had talked in general terms long ago of having kids someday. It was always distant, pie-in-the-sky type stuff, but they had talked about it. Naomi has never been sure if she actually wants kids, having been a bit of a horror as a child herself, and she is still not sure. But the idea doesn't scare her the way she thought it would. She is thinking, not panicking. She is definitely unsettled, and surprised and confused and wondering, and without a doubt a bit anxious. But she is not panicked. And she is not upset. It is the weirdness of that realization more than anything that has rendered her mute.

That, and the import of Emily actually thinking of taking that step together again – of her thinking about it enough to have possible names in mind. It is pretty fucking amazing to Naomi that Emily has reached a point where she can seriously think about the possibility of sharing that together even if it is also more than slightly terrifying. And that is what she decides to tell Emily – which she is amazed, and honoured and terrified all at once, and not at all sure what she wants. But that they should talk about it more, preferably at another place and time. And they should keep on talking for as long as it takes to decide whether it's what they both want.

Luck is against her, though. Before Naomi can confide her thoughts to Emily they are interrupted. The party is breaking up and Katie pokes her head in to remind Emily that it is time for her to head to the station. Of course, in Katie-speak "remind" equals "harangue," and the warning is more along the lines of , "Oy, stop lazing about and get to work, you dozy bitch!" than "Emily, dear, it's getting late, you might want to think about heading out."

Emily flicks the dishwater off her rubber glove in her sister's direction in response, but misses. Katie flings a delighted, "loser!" over her shoulder as she heads back into the departing fray.

Naomi is frustrated at the bad timing, but there is nothing for it. Katie is right. Emily does have to go. They do a last bit of tidying in the kitchen before Emily walks over to Panda to say good night. Naomi watches their good-byes and smiles at Panda's exuberant thank you for the gifts, grateful that Emily has once again take the brunt of Panda's enthusiasm. When Emily finally breaks free from the Panda hug, Naomi escorts her to the door. They share a brief kiss in the entrance way because Naomi is staying to help clean up rest of party mess. It is a little weird, what with all that still remains unspoken between them, but still a lot less weird than it could be. Emily waves as she leaves, not unhappy, but still uncertain about what Naomi is thinking.

Fianlly, the last of the stragglers is ushered out. Not surprisingly, Naomi won the book contest, and the swear jar ended up with an impressive 75 pounds for the baby's school fund in the end. From the look on Angela's face when they tallied the money, it was clear that she was struggling to decide whether to be appalled at the amount of vulgarity that had been flying about or pleased at the sizable contribution to her soon-to-be grandchild. Either way, the party was a success and mother and daughter and baby-to-be leave happy and tired.

It takes a few hours and a couple of bottles of wine for the remaining trio to set the flat back to rights, but eventually the last of the mess is cleared away and the three remaining women collapse onto the living room chairs. Effy and Naomi are sharing the sofa with Effy stretched along it, her head in Naomi's lap and an arm flung across her eyes, while Naomi rests her tired feet on the coffee table. Katie is sprawled across the leather chair bitching creatively about her aching arches.

Naomi has been thinking hard since Emily left, trying to parse through how she feels about their conversation, such as it was. Finally, she pulls her mobile from where it is resting in her bra and pecks out a text just above Effy's head. The buzz announcing its arrival startles Emily, who fumbles with her phone before managing to grab it. Her show has already started, but she has a little over a minute before she has to introduce next song. She is desperate to know what is in Naomi's text, so she decides to once again break the station rules and check the message. When she sees what it says, she is glad she opened it.

I like Hannah, too, but it has to have the 2nd "h".

She is still beaming when another text arrives a moment later.

Not that I'm planning on playing mum anytime soon! DEFINITELY NOT! I'm just saying… it's a nice name. xxx

Despite the less than enthused clarification, Emily sports a huge grin. Naomi hasn't run. She isn't signing on for motherhood any time soon, that much is abundantly clear, but she hasn't run screaming at the mere idea of it either; she hasn't flat out said, "no", and Emily knows better than most just how fucking huge that is. Emily does a quick bum-wiggle victory dance in her chair and checks the count-down clock before quickly typing a message in reply.

What about Jacob?

Emily can't check Naomi's response right away because it arrives when she is on air extro'ing the previous song and reading a quick summary of the weather for the next few days. She forces herself not to rush through her patter, but as soon as she can mute the mic and dive for her phone she does.

Yeah, not sure about that one… don't hate it, but don't 3 it either.

Jesus. They are really having this conversation. Emily can't believe it. She is amazed and delighted and kind of amused at the visual image of Naomi Campbell "talking" about baby names; about names for theoretical babies that they might have, together, some day. It's fucking awesome and petrifying and funny as hell all at the same time. She types her answer and waits for the reply all with the hope that they can keep this light-hearted approach to the subject.

Okay. Jacob is a maybe. I can live with that. xxx

Lol. Gonna head home soon. Totally done in. Good night, Em. I love you. xxx

Emily knows damn well that this discussion could not possibly have gone any better. She knows how poorly it could have gone, and she loves Naomi even more for how hard she knows the blonde is working to be present and committed and to try to make their relationship work. The willingness to talk, even without a commitment to do more, is a sign of just how much Naomi has changed. But so, too, is the fact that Emily did not back down and drop the subject at the first indication of resistance a sign of how much the twin has changed. Maybe, just maybe, they can really do this. They may not be on the same page about kids right now, and they may never get there, but at least there is a chance, and at least they are actually talking about it. Naomi didn't completely shut the door, and that is a development that Emily is happy to cling to, because right now, "maybe someday" is enough. With a happy smile, Emily pecks out one last message before tucking her phone away once more.

Sweet dreams, Naoms. I love you too. xxx

~o0o~

For those who played along…

"As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be" - Love You Forever by Robert Munsch.

"There should be a place where only the things you want to happen, happen" - Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak.

"In the great green room there was a telephone And a red balloon" - Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown and illustrated by Clement Hurd.

"You don't have any shoes on and you smell like a dragon's ear" - The Paperbag Princess by Robert Munsch and illustrated by Michael Martchenko.

"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you." - Winnie-the-Pooh by A.A. Milne.

"Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." - Winnie-the-PoohbyA.A. Milne.

I played a little fast and loose with some of the publication dates so that I could use these quotes. Just ignore the fact that some of the books were written after Naomi would have been grown up...

(I will admit that I particularly adore Winnie the Pooh and think every adult should read them.)

Oh, and in case you did not catch it: Bear (as in Panda Bear... sorry), Prometheus (an inner satellite of Jupiter, as is Pandora), Sirius (a competitor to Pandora in the internet radio market). And of course the disclaimer was a poor homage to Dr. Seuss. Feel free to pummel me for the bad pseudo-puns and poetry in your reviews. I deserve it.