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Title: Bath
Summary: Trying to settle morning sickness through sheer willpower doesn't always work.
Author's Note: Little fluffy piece to get the muse going. Prompt from anon. Follows Morning Sickness.

She sighed, still feeling the slight tremors in her body even as she relaxed against his chest. He slowly brushed a hand up and down her side, creating little waves in the warm water. She didn't feel right yet. This had been the worst she's had of this stupid part of pregnancy, even with Henry.

And she tried not to think of the fact that her changing hormones had made his simple joke about Sheriffs spark fear in her gut, too.

He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and nuzzled against her cheek. "Any better?"

She swallowed and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, letting the steam fill her lungs. "A little," she said. Her stomach was still in knots, but she didn't want him feeling any worse than he already did.

He hummed a response, vibrating against her back and she tilted her head back to further mold into him. "Not exactly what we were going for."

"This is nice, though," she breathed.

"I could get you some tea?" he asked, wet hands trailing across her stomach lightly.

She shook her head. "Maybe later. I like having you here," she admitted. She couldn't remember ever sharing the bath with him before. It was not as uncomfortable as she first assumed to have two bodies in at once. It was hard enough to share a shower, as they'd found through some escapades that usually entailed slipping and giggling, so she hadn't ever given this idea a real thought.

But now, with the subtle ebb and flow of the water, the warm skin against her … it was intimate in a way she hadn't anticipated. Especially since her current state left other ideas to the backburner.

He chuckled slightly, and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I like when you can admit that, I'd say," he said. He settled his hand just between her hipbones. "I like being here with you."

She knew he wasn't just talking about the tub. She felt a little better just thinking about it.

"We gotta tell newbie to settle down, just for a bit."

She grinned and placed her hand over his. Theirs. "He doesn't even have ears at this point, Graham."

He hugged her closer, the water swishing along her skin with the movement. "He can hear me," he said, teasingly stern.

She breathed in deeply, and suddenly her mind went to Storybrooke, to wondering if he could hear her as she cursed his name in an empty sheriff's office. The smell of lavender was suddenly overpowering instead of soothing. Her stomach churned dangerously again. She clamped her hand on his thigh, tensing against him.

His hands floated over her skin gently, moving the water at a calming pace. "I got you, princess."

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she bit down a response. She tried to concentrate on him, on his warmth, on the soothing feel of his hands gliding across her. "I'm okay," she finally said, even though her brow refused to smooth and her stomach refused to relax.

She can practically feel his concern as he pressed kisses along the side of her face. She didn't know what to do, what to tell him. She had nothing in her stomach to upend, thankfully, but the feeling was still there, so close. She knew he was feeling helpless, and there wasn't anything to placate him in that.

Finally, he stopped moving and just held her close. "I've got you. I'm not going anywhere. I love you," he murmured into her hair.

She stopped thinking about the past, and blew out a low breath. He was still here. She took his hand and finally brought it to her lips. "I love you," she said into his skin. "Thank you."

He nuzzled into her, his day-old stubble brushing against her skin. "Months, you said?"

She nodded with a grimace. She had liked some parts of pregnancy last time, didn't she? She couldn't remember anything past the nausea right now. "Yeah. With Henry it was a little longer than the books said, but probably mostly because …."

He nodded, and she knew she didn't need to finish the statement. She thought of the bars and the loneliness, and burrowed into his warmth with a shiver. "I'm sorry."

She tangled their fingers loosely. She knew what he was saying, the underlying anger under it aimed at someone he couldn't yell at. She never could tell whether those flames were directed at Neal, August, or just Regina. That anger for her, though, was something of a comfort. "I was alone, though. I'm not, now."

His opposite hand pressed against her stomach again. "Never again," he vowed roughly.

She tried not to worry about the promise and tightened her grip. "You either," she whispered.

She can feel his smile. "Me neither," he agreed.

She breathed in the steam, and closed her eyes. They both had those childhoods, the ones permeated with loneliness. Henry, too. The fact that this kid wouldn't was something that stung her eyes and throat at how lucky this little one was going to be. "Graham?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for staying."

He shifted, the water rushing as he moved to face her. "Always, Em. Whenever you need."

She smiled and touched his nose with hers. She could always count on him. It was so foreign, the trust she carried for him. Her heart fluttered, and she tilted her head to kiss him gently. "I know," she murmured.

Maybe this part of pregnancy wouldn't be so bad, if she at least had this.