Guest Comments

BossLady: Thank you so much, as always! I pictured Henry on a webpage rather than an actual book, though. Should have made that clearer. :) Shopping and stealing on this one!

Title: The Shopping Trip

Summary: There's one part of pregnancy Emma forgot: the part where nothing fits. Pure fluff.

Note: So, this is based off a couple prompts again. Dreamingdreams wanted "Emma steal the sweater." BossLady wanted "Also, depending on how far along you have Emma being pregnant, do they know the sex of the baby, or come up with names, or went baby shopping one day."

Emma heard the door open and shut but didn't bother moving from her position. She was finally comfortable, dressed warmly and sprawled across the bed, annoying tears having dried across her face. She stared blankly at the sitcom on the television, not even remarking as her husband entered the room.

"Long morning?" he surmised as he saw her, shrugging off his coat.

She gave a half-hearted noise of agreement.

He took off the holster and set it against the dresser before joining her. "This is mine, you know," he murmured playfully, tugging on the sweater covering her. He pulled it back away from her neck, kissing along her collarbone. The scratch of his day-old stubble against her skin reminded her of the past, if only briefly.

"Please, I wouldn't want to be wearing this old thing if I had a choice," she bit out. It's not exactly true, though. Despite her prior teasing, she liked the sweater, soft and warm and oversized, smelling just like him. But she's meeting Emilia and Ritu for dinner that evening, and this was not a sweater to wear for a night out. "It's all that fits me," she admitted, feeling the tears cloying the back of her throat again.

His hand slid down to her waist, over one of his T-shirts and the pair of leggings that were still straining against the width of her stomach. "He's making himself known, is all," he said into her skin, rolling circles over the bump.

She huffed a laugh, finally turning into him. "It's stupid. I know I should have gone shopping earlier, before it got to this point."

He rose, grabbing her hands to pull her up as well. "No time like the present. We have a few hours before you meet the girls."

"Graham," she sighed. "You just came from even more overtime at work. It's a Saturday. We don't have to do this, or at least you don't have to come."

His eyes were twinkling as he scooped her close. "Yes, but I'm also back before noon. You get what that means?"

She hesitated a moment, studying him. He practically buzzed with excitement, just under the surface. Finally, a smile broke over her face, pride seeping through her. "Case closed?"

He grinned and nodded happily. "Solved and full confession given."

She pressed her lips to his firmly. "That's amazing. I'm so happy for you," she stated. She's also very glad she didn't know he was out doing interviews today. She didn't always let her fears of him being in such a dangerous career take root, but the days she knew he was interrogating suspects the nagging dread takes hold to the point where she couldn't shake it.

He pressed his forehead against hers lovingly. "So, I have all this extra energy. Let's get you something a little less Grandma-Emma, shall we?"

She groaned and leaned her head against his shoulder. "It's your sweater, buddy."

"And you love it," he teased.

She nodded. "Just not for a dinner at Carmine's." Then she hesitated. "Wait, should I cancel? This was a big one; we should celebrate."

He shook his head. "No, you've had this planned all week. Besides, we are celebrating. We're going shopping with our kid, for our new kid."

She laughed. "Fine. But you're convincing Henry."

He gave a quick kiss before heading down the hall. "I don't think that will be too hard."

XX

The mall was crowded, as was typical for mid-day on a weekend. Emma couldn't bother to be embarrassed as she wrapped the old cable-knit around her, making their way to the maternity section of the store. She kept watching her son for his eyes to creep toward the electronics section, but he seemed less interested in that area than normal.

"This place is packed," Henry murmured. Then his eyes widened as they passed the DVD bin. "We could stockpile Disney films."

Emma snorted, ruffling the kid's hair. "I don't know about that."

"Comparing notes? Not necessarily a bad idea," Graham said, amusement twinging against his accent.

She sighed. "Kid, if you come back with Snow White, I will ground you," she threatened, then pushed him in the direction of the videos.

Graham chuckled, grabbing her arm to guide her through the stacks of clothing. "You really should go with Gia sometime; you obviously don't trust my taste in clothes," he said with a wink, tugging against the brown sweater.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled despite herself. "Next time. But this kid's already getting too big, way earlier than Henry. You just need to get me through the work week or so. Besides, it's all your fault, anyway."

"Whose idea was it to start stripping in the middle of December in the woods?" he asked without looking up from sorting through the racks of clothing.

"Yours," she said dryly, then pursed her lips. "And it was still warm."

He grinned, pulling up a sweater that was unusually similar to the one on her shoulders. "No, I think you were the one to bring the blanket originally."

She yanked the sweater back, trying to hide her smile as she replaced it. "Okay, maybe mine. I didn't hear any complaints."

"None here," he agreed, slipping his hand to her waist discretely as he pressed a kiss into her hair.

"Mom, Dad!"

They looked up in unison to see Henry barreling toward them. He held out his choices proudly. "I've narrowed it down."

She looked through the titles quickly. "The Sword in the Stone, Aladdin, Up, Bambi, and The Princess and the Frog? What made you pick those?"

He shrugged. "Variety. And no characters we know."

Graham pressed his lips together. "I think I knew of Jafar. And Arthur. But close enough."

"Unless we accidently ran in to Thumper at the diner, I think we're good," she said with a shake of her head. "What's up with wanting them, anyway, kid?"

He gave a half smile. "New kid needs some fairytales. And these are fun ones." Then he pulled a final title behind his back, his eyes widening. "Please?"

"Kid …," she trailed off, looking at the cover (that mercifully didn't have an Evil Queen) with a wince.

"It's like one of those bad book adaptations, only this is like a bad adaptation of our history! It's so cool!" Henry exclaimed.

Graham was shaking with laughter beside her, trying to hide it by turning his head. Carefully, she elbowed him in the side. "You're no help," she admonished. She grimaced. "Fine."

Henry grinned proudly. "Now, did you find anything?"

She sighed. "If you two could actually give me a second …."

She couldn't help the grin that was spreading across her face, though. Her boys definitely knew how to cheer her up. She felt like the woman this morning that was crying over the fact that her clothes didn't fit and was so angry over that fact was a whole different person. She could still typically cover the bursts of emotion her hormones were producing, but she just didn't have the energy that morning. She loathed to think it would get worse, but at least she had these two making it better.

Graham and Henry had disappeared into the store while she tried on clothes. She was actually surprised to find a few styles that didn't make her want to scream, flattering her new figure in cuts that hid or accentuated as she pleased. She sighed as she left the dressing room, looking for her men.

She found them in a far corner. Graham's face was slack, soft to Henry's small smile.

"What?" she questioned.

Graham grinned sheepishly, then held out a tiny pair of sneakers. "Too early?"

She bit down on her lip. "No second pair again?" she tried to tease, but her throat felt tight as she looked down at the shoes.

Graham's lips quirked up mischievously. "Henry has the other."

Henry grinned and produced a second set, just as delicate as the first, and Emma felt torn between laughing and crying. "Oh, no, don't tell me he's dragged you into this twin thing."

"You never know. Besides, Leroy's going to need more than one pair of shoes," he joked with a grin.

"For the last time, we are not naming the kid after anyone we know, especially not Leroy. Do you want your brother to be teased forever? I'm getting a baby name book as soon as we leave here, kid, and we are going to find actual name possibilities," she protested. The boy-day names Henry came up with were the worst so far. At least Sophia yesterday wasn't nearly as bad, she thought absently, picking up the sneakers to rest in her hand. She pictured a son for a moment, allowing it just as easily as visions of a daughter came. The thought warmed her as she looked at the shoes, but then again Henry's instance on wanting a tiny princess crown last week had been just as sweet. "Fine. But everything else is too early," she said sternly.

"Everything else?" Graham questioned.

Her nose wrinkled. "What else did you find?"

Henry guiltily pulled the cart from its place on the side of the aisle. "Just a couple things."

"You two are terrible," she exclaimed, looking through the piles of stuffed animals and onsies and … and her head started to hurt. She knew the second she saw it that she wanted to give in.

They were both just so excited. These were things she never had with Henry, even in this life. No one had been excited she had been pregnant with him. No one had even believed that she should keep the baby, all those prison psychologists telling her what was best, up until that one doctor that had helped deliver him (the one she couldn't listen to in one life, the one she was so thankful of in this one). There were never maternity clothes or shopping trips: not until her mad scramble in the cheapest of GoodWills when she had been released, with a two-month old and the most ambitious parole officer ever at her side.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, thinking about how much love this baby was going to get, from the beginning. She tugged Henry into her, pressing him close. She dropped a kiss to his head (much too high now, she didn't have to bend nearly as much as she used to), and he wrapped his arms around her firmly. After a moment, she shook her head and released him. "Let's wait. We'll shop again after Gia throws us the baby shower we didn't ask for."

"Can you blame us for being over-eager?" Graham asked with a hesitant grin.

She turned and pressed her face into his neck, a small smile gracing her features. "No, I can't," she whispered softly.

"At least this one?" Henry asked.

She was about to sigh, about to remind him of the last three "at least this" ones, but she stilled as she saw it. Against a soft cream background, graphic letters stood in bright yellow: "I have the coolest brother ever."

"That one was the best," Graham cajoled, rubbing his hand over her lower back.

Emma swallowed hard. "Yeah. That one stays."

Her family, her home: the one thing that always fit.