Erik watched as Emily crouched down next to Isadora's high chair, eyes shining with joy. In the past year, he'd seen that look in her eyes more than he could ever remember having seen it in all the time he'd known her. And he knew it was all because of that little girl...the reason they were gathered to celebrate.
Isadora, however, seemed unsure – of the flames atop her cake, of the gathering of people, of the boisterous singing, and the flashing camera. She looked to her mother, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, looking for reassurance.
As usual, Emily understood the baby's needs without her needing the words to voice them. Gently, she stroked Isadora's soft strawberry blonde locks, lips moving as she soothed the child with familiar French whispers.
She gently tapped the baby's nose, making her giggle and suddenly everything seemed right with her world, fears forgotten with her mother's reassurances.
The final notes of everyone signing Happy Birthday faded out and Emily cooed, "Blow out the candles, Is!"
Isadora looked up at her, cautious.
"It's okay, baby," she murmured. Then, blew out the candles for her.
Everyone applauded and, earlier fears long since departed, Isadora was instantly digging into the cake with her fists. As she gleefully smeared cake about her face, Emily joined Erik, wrapped her arms around his waist.
"What are you smiling about?" she asked softly.
For a few moments, he remained silent, watching their daughter. At her feet, Mudgie wagged his tail furiously, eager for a taste of the cake being thrown about. "Just...trying to imagine how life could get any better than it is in this moment."
For so long, he'd never bothered to imagine any kind of domestic bliss, any kind of normalcy in his life. It didn't seem likely, didn't even seem possible...that someone could see past all his anger and scars to the person beneath and not only accept that man, but love him. And here he was, celebrating his daughter's first birthday with his loving wife next to him and a circle of (perhaps begrudging) friends.
She nuzzled into his chest, relishing in the feeling of being in his arms, the feeling of home. The feeling of everything being right in the world, even if it was just for a brief moment. "What if I were to tell you that I had a gift for you?" she asked.
He raised a brow. "But it's not my birthday..." He paused, thought. "If anything, I should be getting you a gift for having given birth to her."
She laughed a little because, hey, it was true. "Open it anyway," she insisted, pulling an envelope out of her back pocket. She'd been waiting for the right moment to give it to him and she hadn't planned on that moment being in the middle of the party, surrounded by nosy teammates, but the timing just felt right.
He raised a brow, but accepted the envelope anyway, even if he was looking at it as if expecting it to spontaneously combust at any moment. From inside, he pulled a small black and white photograph. "Is this...?" he started to ask after staring numbly at it for what felt like ages.
She grinned, nodded, not letting him finish his thought.
"You're..."
She nodded again. Then, before she could say anything, he engulfed her in a bone-crushing embrace. She laughed, partly from nervous energy, but mostly out of joy.