A Series of Unfortunate Clichés: Chapter 11: New Beginnings
Author: Cath
Disclaimer: Characters really aren't mine.
Reviews: Are wonderful.
Notes: Thought you'd seen the last of this, didn't you!
Well, after a brief foray into Lost fandom, I came to my senses and watched 24 series 3 again. The obvious conclusion all along was that I would get back into 24 fic. And because I realised that I missed writing for T&M, here I am, back to finish off this series.
Apologies for the delay!
This goes very much into AU territory: having not seen S5, I am allowed to deny its existence. Really.
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She has never really considered herself a "baby" person.
In fact, her more frequent mental response to people placing their offspring in front of her has been "well, it's a baby." When necessary, she can get by with the requisite cooing, which she has learned over the years from observation and reactions to inadequate responses. But really – despite her "isn't he gorgeous?", "aren't they lovely at that age?", and her favourite response to screeching children: laughter followed by "he's got a good set of lungs on him, hasn't he?" – her reaction remains: "it's a baby."
This reaction makes her slightly nervous: she feels that her future offspring – due to arrive within weeks – might develop one or two psychological issues from this response.
Tony, in one of his less supportive moments, jokingly commented that it might be a good idea to start setting aside funding for the psychiatrist. This statement was quickly retracted and amended at her glare and querying about whether he wanted to share a bed with her any time in the near future.
Having had time to explain her worries to the fetus, she hopes that it (gender unknown until its birth) will be understanding if initially her abilities as a mother are inadequate. She informs the fetus (also known affectionately as "the bump", "the baby" and "the kid") that it's nothing personal, but she would prefer if it would learn to speak within the first few days, as she will be much more effective when she understands what it wants. Also, if it could stop kicking her at night, she'd really appreciate it.
She's improved with the baby idea over time; her immediate reaction at learning that she was expecting was not as composed as she had hoped despite the fact that it was sort of planned. In fact, after handing over the result to Tony, she was unable to speak for nearly five minutes, as he grinned uncontrollably and informed her that this really was a good thing.
She came round to the idea fairly quickly, but then this thing started taking form inside her, and it was real – they had an ultrasound photo to prove it, which Tony insisted on showing to everyone – and suddenly it struck her that she was going to have a baby. An actual baby that would be there 24 hours a day and wasn't to be rapidly handed over to someone else when its diaper needed changing. Moreover, she was going to be someone's mom. She was going to be responsible for this child's upbringing and everything that was associated with it.
Fortunately, Tony was in a supportive husband mood at the time, and responded well to her insistence that the kid was never going to be born, so help her god. He suggested that she speak to friends with kids, or her brother, who would hopefully allay her fears that she was going to drop the kid on its head, screw it up for life, or leave it behind the couch and forget about it.
Their relationship has changed a lot in the two years since they've left CTU. They're a lot more open, communicative and supportive and as a result more relaxed. They laugh a lot more. And she doesn't feel as though she's alone in this pregnancy.
Underneath the outward anxiety, she is excited about the prospect of the baby. She has fantasies about a well-behaved child that is restful, gorgeous, and looks up to its mommy with wide-eyed adoration.
Then she recalls stories from Tony's mom about his endeavours as a child, and remembers that half the baby's genes come from its father, and that restful and well-behaved might be a bit too much to ask.
Her friends' reactions to her pregnancy have been positive but generally surprised. They are all very excited and interested, and share stories about their own experiences. Unfortunately, only half of these are helpful. The less she hears about being stitched up after the birth, the better.
They want to organise baby showers, and offer name suggestions, and give advice, and she finds it both helpful and overwhelming.
The oddest thing she has found has been stranger's reactions to the bump. People whom she has never met before come up to her in the street, in the supermarket, once even in the bathroom at a restaurant, and want to touch her stomach. She's learned a variety of polite versions of "get the hell away from me." Their fascination bothers her more than a little.
Her mother's response was unexpected.
"Pregnant?" she queried as though the word was foreign.
"That's the word they used," she replied, amused.
"You're going to have a baby?"
"Yes."
"You're going to have a baby?"
"Well, I tried to convince Tony that he wanted to have it, but he thought this way would work out better," she commented.
"You're going to have a baby?"
"You can emphasise any part of that sentence you want, mom, it's still true," she remarked, smirking to herself.
There was a long moment of silence.
"Mom, you still there?"
Then she heard the crying.
"Mom?"
"I just… I can't believe it! I thought you'd never have children!" There was more crying. "You're sure of this, aren't you?"
"I'll send you a copy of the ultrasound. Tony's made about a hundred."
There was a pause while her mother got her emotions under control. "You'd better send me at least ten."
She gave Tony the satisfaction of informing his own mother. The resulting conversation lasted approximately half an hour: a good twenty eight minutes longer than his usual phone calls to his parents.
She finds it fascinating that for the most part, Tony seems less anxious about the prospect of their impending arrival than she does.
She's asked him about it on a number of occasions.
"It probably helps that I don't have to give birth to it," he commented once. She wasn't particularly impressed with this answer.
One time, she lay in bed, him lying on his stomach, supported on his elbows, head over the bump. "I don't know why," he replied truthfully. "I guess I've just been waiting long enough and I'm ready now."
"But aren't you scared?" she'd asked.
"A little," he'd responded, "But I'm more excited."
She'd looked at him as he moved her shirt up and kissed her stomach, and started whispering things that she couldn't hear.
"So I can trust you not to faint during the birth?"
"Later sweetheart, I'm talking to the kid."
She laughed.
She thinks a lot about names for the baby. For the first few months they started discussing names, making ever more ridiculous suggestions.
Tony had started it.
"If it's a girl, I think… Michelle Jr."
She'd rolled her eyes at him. "I'm guessing then it would be Anthony Jr. for a boy?"
"Naturally."
He'd called her up once after meeting a client. "Corey Taylor Utah," he'd greeted her, and she was entirely confused.
"Huh?"
"For the kid. We'd call it CTU for short," he'd suggested.
She'd taken a week off work to visit her mom and step-dad, leaving Tony at home, and they'd started each conversation with increasingly silly suggestions.
"Champagne. Cheesecake. Or Las Vegas," he said.
"Theme being?"
"Things that inspired its conception."
"Las Vegas?"
"Yeah. You didn't want me to go with my brother to Las Vegas, so you seduced me with champagne and cheesecake."
"Really. Because I remember that it was you who brought the cheesecake and champagne so that I'd let you go on the bachelor weekend with your brother."
"Huh. Well, the details aren't important."
"I think we should go with something unusual," he'd started the conversation. "We could use the letters in our names to come up with something more creative."
"Like… Tochelle?" she'd offered.
"Or Michony."
One morning he'd waited for her to wake up, then kissed her, grinning. "I've got it."
"What?"
"Wrigley Field."
"Wrigley Field Almeida?"
"Yeah, see it can be for a boy or a girl."
"Wrigley Field Almeida?" she'd repeated, incredulous.
"You don't like it?"
"You want the kid to hate us?"
"When it's a teenager it's gonna hate us anyway. Might as well get ahead of the game."
She starts to think about actual possible names, though. "The kid" or "the baby" may be original, but she thinks that it's possible that social services might get involved for the infliction of cruelty to the child at an early age.
They find it impossible to come up with a conclusive list and eventually an arrangement is agreed to.
"How about," he starts, "you choose a boy's name, and I choose a girl's?"
"Okay. But if I don't like your choice in name, am I allowed to disagree?"
"See, I think you should trust me," he grins.
"I do trust you. I trust you implicitly. Except possibly not in this area."
"Well, how about we choose our names and see what happens."
"Okay," she replies doubtfully.
There are maybe three weeks left until she is due to give birth, and she still cannot decide on a name. She begins to hope that she's having a girl as at least this way she won't have to quickly choose a name after the birth and then have to put up with something that sounded great under the epidural, like Thor, or Ezekiel.
Tony let her know about a week ago that he had chosen his name, but refused to divulge it, stating only that it was not one they had previously discussed. She worries about it, but only a little. She trusts him to make a choice that will take her likes into consideration. Or at least he will if he knows what's good for him.
With three weeks to go, she's increasingly anxious and excited by the hour.
She has never really considered herself a "baby" person, but she's looking forward to giving it her best go. With Tony's help, that's all she can do.
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End chapter 11.