Nesting
CS Genre: Future Fic
Killian looked over the room he and Swan had deemed most fit to serve as their nursery and shook his head, bemused. How had it come to this? It had been such a spacious chamber when they began preparing for the newest addition to the Swan-Jones family, but now…well now there was hardly space enough to turn around. At this rate, tiny Eva Ruth Swan-Jones wouldn't even fit in her own quarters when she chose to greet the world in little more than a fortnight's time.
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Emma sat heavily on the comfortable rocking chair in the bedroom she shared with Killian. She looked out the huge bay window and let the sight of the waves crashing upon the beach soothe her as she as she absentmindedly caressed her huge, distended belly.
She was exhausted, tired to the bone, completely done in, beat, bushed, hardly able to move a muscle. She'd been a bit annoyed when her father had flat out insisted she slow down and take maternity leave from the sheriff's station…and when her mother-hen of a husband had very firmly backed him up…but she had to admit the guys had a point. As much energy as little Eva Ruth was zapping from her, she'd be total crap trying to chase down a perp.
Not that there were that many of those around lately, a fact that made Emma absolutely overjoyed. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, but ever since they'd defeated Mr. Hyde, and put the Evil Queen back together with Regina, things had been quiet around Storybrooke.
They'd had a good eleven months of quiet moments, and she and Killian had certainly made the most of them.
Emma smiled, love blooming up inside as she thought of her husband and True Love. Things had proceeded in a typical manner—at least for them. She'd been on the point of suggesting Killian share her huge house with her when Leroy had come running around the corner, yelling his fool head off about "an absolute monster" and "the Evil Queen".
And just like that, after barely five minutes of peace back in Storybrooke, with barely enough time for Emma to declare her love—without the threat of death looming over either of them—with barely enough time for them to share a kiss for the ages, their peace and tranquility had evaporated.
Again. (Why had she expected something else?)
Emma ended up being the one to pop the question a couple of weeks later. It was totally spur of the moment. They were in the middle of a huge showdown with Hyde and the Evil Queen, her parents and Regina at their side, when it suddenly occurred to her that she was tired of waiting. What was the point? He'd died for her—multiple times—and she'd literally gone to hell for him. They'd been officially declared True Love by the gods. It wasn't like there was any doubt about their feelings for each other—or about the fact that they'd be together forever.
She'd shot a bolt of magical force at the queen, and then turned to Killian, who was engaged in a fierce sword fight with Hyde. "Hey Killian," she'd said, "let's get married."
He thrust his sword once more, barely missing his opponent, and then let Charming take over for him. "What?!" he'd thundered. "Swan, bloody hell, love! You're depriving me of a dashing proposal! Bad form! I'd been carefully planning the moment for weeks!"
Regina swooped in and sent a fireball at her evil half, and Emma took the moment to turn toward Killian. "So…does that mean you accept?"
Killian shot out an exasperated breath before a radiant smile draped his lips. "Could there ever be any doubt about that, Emma? Of bloody course I accept your proposal! I'm merely a mite vexed you beat me to the asking."
Emma had shrugged, grinning lazily. "I got tired of waiting on you, babe."
He'd swooped in then and kissed the daylights out of her while the battle raged on around them.
The battle was successful, despite Emma and Killian having little attention to spend on anyone but each other, and in due course the villains of the day were defeated.
She and Killian had decided the best way to celebrate their latest victory was to tie the knot. And so, barely taking the time to clean up after the battle, they'd headed to city hall together with her parents and Henry, where they exchanged their vows before Regina. Killian whooped in triumph as they were pronounced man and wife.
While their family and friends had, of course, been overjoyed for them, their impromptu wedding was not without its critics. Snow, in particular, had been disappointed she'd be deprived of the whole "big royal wedding" with all that implied—even while being thrilled her daughter was united to her True Love.
"Don't worry Mom," Emma had assured, holding tightly to her brand-new husband's arm. "We can do the whole huge wedding thing—and I'll definitely want all the help you can give me for that—it's just…with all the crap that goes down in this town, if Killian and I waited until we had time for all the big formal plans, could be we'd never get married."
Though "big fairytale wedding" was hardly Emma's idea of a good time, she'd had every intention of letting her parents run wild with all the preparations—and parents-of-the-bride stuff—they wanted, but then came the exciting (and terrifying) news that little Eva Ruth was on the way. As a wedding of the grand scale Snow was pushing for would, of necessity, take months to pull off, and as Emma had no intention of being as large as a beached whale in her wedding photos, the wedding had been postponed until some indeterminate time after the baby was born.
Emma smiled to herself as she remember the day she learned she was pregnant—the day she told Killian he was going to be a father.
She stood at the vanity in the bathroom of the master bedroom, looking in wide-eyed shock at the two little lines on the home pregnancy test. She and Killian hadn't even talked about kids yet. Yeah, she wanted another baby or two…especially now that the dad would be in the picture and they could keep the baby and raise it together…but…but…shouldn't that be something they planned, deliberately chose?
Vaguely she heard Killian come in the front door and call her name, and suddenly a fresh wave of panic hit her. She wanted a baby with him, but how did he feel? What if…what if he wasn't happy about it? What if he'd decided he didn't want kids beyond Henry?
When Emma didn't answer her husband, he came bounding into their bedroom, babbling on about his "guys' afternoon" with her father. Emma didn't hear a word, eyes still transfixed on the test in her hand.
"And then your blasted father challenged me to a game of darts. I knew I'd emerge victorious when he…" Killian stopped abruptly when he stepped into the open bathroom and saw her face. "Swan, love? What's amiss?"
She looked over at him, trying desperately to mask her shock. He rushed to her, taking her in his arms. (She really should have known she couldn't keep anything from him. Open book and all of that.)
"Please Emma," he tried again. "What is that small wand in your hand, and why do you look at it as though it's a snake preparing to attack?"
Emma smiled for a moment in spite of herself, and then held up the "small wand" for his perusal. "Look, Killian," she said. "Two lines."
She looked up to see his brow furrowing, the wheels obviously turning in his head as he tried to decipher the meaning behind her odd behavior. "Aye," he said slowly, "I can see there are two lines on the device. What am I supposed to glean from that?"
Emma took a deep breath, stepped out of the shelter of his arms, and looked up at him. "It means…" she started, cleared her throat and tried again. "It means I'm…pregnant."
For a split second he merely looked at her, and then the widest smile she'd ever seen him sport graced his lips. "You're…with child?" He asked quietly, almost reverently.
She nodded.
Killian whooped, lifted her up, and spun her around right there in the bathroom. His obvious joy was infections, and Emma laughed, then leaned down to kiss him. "This mean you're happy about the news?"
He set her gently, very gently down and then cupped her cheek in his hand, leaned down and kissed her slowly, tenderly. "Happy doesn't even begin to touch upon it, my love. I am overjoyed, ecstatic, giddy with delight. I'm to be a father! It's…it's something I'd long since lost hope of. Emma, love, this is the most utterly delightful gift you could possibly give me!"
Emma laughed, caught up in his enthusiasm, then she cupped the back of his head and brought him down for another kiss. "I'm glad you're so happy, but it's not just a gift I'm giving you, you know. You had a part in bringing it about as well."
He lifted one eyebrow and gave her the slow, seductive grin that never failed to make her toes curl. "Oh darling, I am well aware."
She'd laughed and lightly slapped at his chest. "We don't have time for the thoughts I know are running through your head right now, pirate," she said. "We have to be at my parents' in fifteen minutes for family dinner. What do you say we take the opportunity to let Mom and Dad and Henry know that in about eight months there'll be another family member coming to these weekly meals?"
As soon as the news of the pregnancy really settled in, Emma's shock softened into excitement and anticipation. She'd heard of women "nesting" when they got close to the time to deliver their babies, but her period of nesting started about two days after she found out her daughter was on the way.
She and Killian had decided the room across from their master bedroom would be the perfect nursery. No sooner was the decision made then Emma had her husband, her father, her son and Robin (who they'd managed to rescue from limbo, where he'd been banished when Hades zapped him with the Olympian crystal. Turns out the lord of the dead had lied about the effect the crystal had on humans) carried out every piece of furniture in the room, and the whole clan got together to paint the room a pale mint green. They'd gotten August to paint a lovely oceanscape in one corner, as Killian insisted the sight would soothe their little one.
With the painting completed, then came the necessity of furnishing the room. Emma and Killian had commissioned Marco to custom make them a full baby bedroom suite—complete with crib, chest of drawers and changing table. To show his affection and gratitude, Marco had made the effort to carve swans, hooks, and nautical imagery into each item.
But Emma quickly found that furnishing the baby's room wasn't nearly enough. She wanted her tiny daughter to have everything—everything she was deprived of, everything she'd been unable to give Henry. And so three months into the pregnancy, she had begun shopping.
Killian had been amazing through it all, accompanying her to baby boutiques and maternity/newborn shops, holding bags, offering opinions when asked. Within the first week alone, they'd acquired a car seat, an infant stroller, three sets of bedding for the crib, about fifty receiving blankets, a bassinet for their bedroom and cradle for the living room, five different varieties of baby shampoo, a dozen bottles, piles of tiny little baby clothes and enough diapers to take care of Eva for a good six months.
And as the months went on, they steadily added to their pile of baby loot. (It was amazing really, how much value Killian's doubloons seemed to have around here).
Now here she was, two weeks away from her due date, rocking gently, wondering what she could possibly be forgetting. And then her eyes landed on it…the baby blanket Granny had knitted her when she was a newborn.
Suddenly her eyes flooded, and despite her attempts to stop them, the tears began to fall.
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That's how Killian found here a couple of minutes later, sitting in the rocking chair, holding her baby blanket to her face and crying as though her heart were breaking. Killian rushed to her, knelt before her, took her into his arms and peppered soft kisses against her hair, her cheeks, all the while murmuring soft sounds of comfort.
"What bothers you, love?" he asked gently. "Are you in pain? Shall I fetch Dr. Whale."
Emma smiled weakly, shaking her head. "No Killian, I'm fine," she said in a wobbly voice. "It's nothing like that.
"Then what is it, love?" he asked, smoothing back her hair. "What troubles you so deeply?"
Emma held up her baby blanket. "It's this, Killian."
"I…I'm afraid I do not follow, love."
She shrugged. "When I was a child I had nothing, absolutely nothing from my parents except for this blanket. During those nights when I thought the loneliness would kill me, I would hold this blanket, put it to my face, and it comforted me somehow. It…it proved to me that once upon a time someone cared that I existed. Someone took the time to knit this for me. In those dark moments, it meant more than all the fancy toys I could have gotten."
Killian waited, stayed silent, let his love unspool as he continued to caress her face, her shoulder.
"And you know what I thought looking at this thing today?" she continued. "All that stuff we got for the baby, it's just…stuff. Just…pointless stuff! I spent all these months trying to get our little girl everything, because I wanted her to have a perfect childhood, you know the kind we didn't have, the kind I was too screwed up at the time to give to Henry. But…none of this matters! I just…I don't know how to do this mom thing!"
Killian wrapped his arms around her once more, and held her close, rocking her gently. "Don't say that, my love," he murmured. "Don't ever say that. You are an exemplary mother to Henry. Eva is lucky, truly blessed to have you."
Emma pulled away far enough to look into Killian's eyes. "But…being a parent to a teenager...it's a far different thing than being a parent to a tiny, helpless newborn. I…I love Eva, but I'm scared Killian. I'm scared I'll, I don't know, completely screw her up."
Killian shook his head. "I must admit, I'm afraid too," he said. "We're sailing into new and untested waters, love, but I've no doubt that together—and with the help and advice of your parents and others who have navigated this season of life—we can do this. I love this little one as though she's a part of my very self, and I know you feel the same."
"But…" she began.
He cut her off with a gentle finger to her lips. "Now darling, it's bad form to interrupt another when he's speaking. I've many more words of wisdom to impart."
She harrumphed and rolled her eyes, even as a grin teased her lips. "Wouldn't want to interrupt an old man when he's building up a head of steam. Go on."
He grinned and then sobered, fingering his love's baby blanket. "What is it that makes this blanket so special to you, Emma? What made it a source of comfort? It was that this blanket was proof that somewhere someone loved you. You felt that love, even if those who felt it were effectively worlds away. Correct?"
"Yeah," Emma said with a small nod.
Killian smiled, hooking a tendril of hair behind her ear as he looked tenderly into her eyes. "Our little Eva Ruth will not need such a trinket. She already has so very, very many people who love her—us, her brother Henry, her grandparents, and many more. She'll have all the love and care she could ever wish for lavished up her. You're quite right; all of this…all we've purchased…it matters very little in the scheme of things. Whether she has our purchased gifts or a hand-knitted blanket or nothing at all, she will be the richest baby in all the land. She has something more precious than the rarest gem. She has a family who'd go to the ends of the earth or time for her."
A single tear coursed its way down Emma's cheek, and she leaned forward and kissed him tenderly. "Thanks," she said when she'd finally pulled away and rested her forehead against his. "You know. You're really good at this whole husband thing. And for the record, Eva Ruth is the luckiest little girl in the world to have you for her papa."
"She's lucky to have both of us, Swan," he countered. "Now can we put those tears behind us? We've a nursery filled from bow to stern with baby items. Perhaps we'd best put our considerable intelligence to work finding places to store our tiny pirate's loot."
Notes:
-Happy Friday! It's been a busy week and I'm more than ready for the weekend to roll around! Here's some CS baby-on-the-way fluff for you.
-Up next: It's been quite some time since I tried my hand at the Lieutenant Duckling genre. I think I'll go with something inspired by something from real life. I was at a wedding last summer where a little girl (probably no more than 4 years old) was out on the dance floor all by herself, and then a little boy about her age took her hand and started dancing with her. It was ridiculously adorable! Of course, my first thought was "how can I use this in a CS fic?" My conclusion was that it was perfect Lieutenant Duckling material. (I have an idea that could be a one-shot, but also has the potential to be a much longer mc.)