Guest comments
Gremma Shoelace: Thank you! This one was actually already on my list, but will take a bit of time considering where I want to go with it. ;)
Bosslady: Oo, something I should have made clearer to my readers that can't read the M-rated fic. In it, Graham mentions that Regina told him he was sterile. They both know there's a good chance that she was lying, but also they have a good amount of doubt as to whether they could ever get pregnant. Dealing with Neal is on my prompt list as well, but I just really dislike writing him. I'll still do it, though, don't worry! Emma's about six months along, but baby is being stubborn during the ultrasounds, so they don't know the sex yet. The thought of Graham baby shopping ... oh, is that on my list! Thank you as always, hon!
Title: Fashion Choices
Summary: During a typical morning, Emma finds something amusing about her husband's choice of outerwear.
Note: Gif-inspired, link in profile.
"Graham? What time do you have to leave for the –" Emma paused as she turned from the stove, catching sight of her husband slipping onto the stool by the breakfast bar. She stifled a laugh, unable to stop a smile from creeping along her face.
He offered a smile back, confusion drawing his brows together. "What?"
She smirked and turned back to the stove, reaching for the spices on the upper shelf. "You know, just because you're going to be a dad doesn't mean you suddenly have to start dressing like one."
He looked down at his sweater, the brown cable-knit open over a blue button-up. "I've had this for years. It's good for the weather, and it's comfortable. I'm just going to meet up with McNab and Simmons. And it's not like I said anything about the plaid pants the other day."
She rolled her eyes. "My pants were fashionable. You look about ready to put on some wire-rimmed glasses and scream at the neighbor kids to get off your lawn."
"Fashionable, huh?" he asked, a grin stretching across his face. He rose, curling his arms around her to slide the length of her body against him. His head bowed down, and she can feel the smile in his voice as he leans to her ear. "Did Gia tell you that?"
She flipped the eggs onto a plate, then turned to place a kiss on his lips. "Yes, actually."
"Shouldn't you be glad I'm not wearing fur and raw leather?" he asked.
She chuckled as she pictured him as such, as he must have looked in that other world. Finally, she smoothed the fabric over his sides. "I'll give you that it's soft," she offered. His hands slid down to her stomach, as they tended to do more and more often over the last month, and she let out a soft sigh. "Little peek into the future, I guess," she murmured.
"Does this mean I get to see you as Grandma Emma at some point?" he teased.
She snorted, turning back to the counter. "I'm going to put that one off for a while," she said. She ignored the little pang inside of her, the thought of grandmothers and family automatically pushing forward the thought of her parents.
Despite her attempt to bury the feeling, Graham had obviously picked up on it. His hands rested on the slightest curve of her stomach that was just forming, and tucked his head into the crook of her neck. "Think Henry has enough stories lined up to tell this one about her grandparents?"
"So, it's a girl today, huh?" she asked, trying to stall in answering his question.
He shrugged. "Trying to switch off until we find out. But who knows? Maybe there's one of each," he said with a grin.
She groaned. "Now you're thinking twins?"
A smile stretched across his face. "Genetically possible. Your dad was one," he replied.
"Luckily, modern medicine begs to differ on that theory," she said dryly. "Only one extra heartbeat in me, Grandpa."
He snickered. "Modern medicine's failed us before," he said brightly.
She shuddered at that, the subtle reminder of where he was not nine months prior unsettling. "I can only imagine how Henry'd react to that."
"If the page I caught him on last night is any indication, he wouldn't be too upset," he mused.
She felt a soft warmth fill her body as she remembered the grin on Graham's face after he checked on their son last night before coming to bed. To have Henry looking up on how to care for newborns was one of the most heart-twistingly sweet things she's ever heard. "That's true. Still, it'd be a lot easier to deal with just one since we're both new to this game."
He nodded. "True," he acquiesced. He paused a moment before brushing his lips against her temple. "They'd be happy for you, Emma. They'd love bring grandparents again."
She breathed a low sigh. "I know," she said hoarsely. Her hand covered his. Then she twisted, meeting the dark blue of his eye. "But David would still not be caught dead in that sweater."
"You love it," he insisted, kissing her once more.
"Yeah," she breathed, settling against him. It was soft against her skin, warm and worn and smelled just like him. "I guess it can stay."
She might even steal it once in a while.