Author's Note: Here's another fic! :) Sorry it took so long, I got busy. I combined two prompts with this one: 'Nicky and Lorna raising Carmine together' and 'pregnant Nicky.' As always, let me know what you think! :) 'The Best Life' P.S. if any translations are wrong, I apologize and blame Google Translate. :)
When Nicky first walked in the door of their apartment, now a double bedroom plus bath, courtesy of both Red and the Vause-Chapman's lawful rich privilege, as a wedding gift, there was silence. At first. Then, a steady stream of humming, quiet and saccharine, drifting high from down the hallway.
Ah. There she is. Instead of calling out to her - Lorn! - like she so often does when she gets home, hoping that when Mamma's found, so is their son, and usually, she's right, she decides to stay silent. It gains the attention of the one, the only, Alexandra Vause, who first scowls when Nicky addresses her like that, and then gives her one of those patented sexy smirks. "You know that's not even my name, right?"
"Doesn't matter," Nicky shrugged her shoulders in an almost flirty kind of way. That's just how the two of them had always been – a little too close – and smiled back at her. "I know it pisses you off, and that's enough for me."
Alex rolled her eyes, chuckled, and it was a deep sound, so unlike her wife's that it suddenly took her by surprise, though what didn't, was her response. "Fuck off, Nichols."
Nicky was about to give her the exact sentiment, to the letter, when another voice, much smaller, and without conviction, beat her to it. "Yeah. Fuck off, Mommy!"
Holy shit. If Lorna could hear him now, he was a dead little man as much as Nicky was a dead woman. She just laughed. Jesus Christ on High, she was a terrible parent. Her son smashed his head into her stomach without saying another word, smacking his lips together in contentment as she carded a hand through his dark, dark curls.
Thankfully, Carmine looked everything like Lorna and nothing at all like his father, whom she held just a tiny, itsy bit of contempt for. Really, it was only natural. Even his ex-wife's puttied lips were marred by a scowl at the mention of his name. That too, was only natural, but calling Lorna Vinny's ex-wife was not and honestly, probably never would be. He is such an asshat.
"Great parenting." Alex scoffed, a smile playing at the corner's of her mouth, jumping to and from her lips like jump rope, the only thing missing was the bubble gum rhymes. She was teasing her, and it wasn't funny. Because she just had that thought herself not two seconds before Alex had said it out loud.
"Yeah, yeah, thanks," Nicky mumbled, leaving a gentle kiss on the top of Carmine's head. "I try really hard, don't I, Kisa?"
He nuzzled closer into her chest, smelling of Welches grape juice, dirty socks and quintessential boy. She took a deep, long breath, reveled in it for a second longer than she needed to because she wanted to, because she hasn't seen her baby in six hours and that's longer than kindergarten and a playdate combined, and she missed him like crazy.
"Where's Mamma?" she asked him, her voice soft, nearly a whisper. When Carmine pointed to the bathroom door, closed, but with the light on, his cheeks lifted in a big smile, sweet and innocent, at the voice emanating through it: Lorna's, slightly loud, singing the lyrics to what sounded like Il Cavallo Del Bambino.
Traditionally, Lorna would sing it when Carmine was on her lap, sometimes watching the TV, other times staring mindlessly at the black screen and fussing, because yes, even at five, he was still a fussy child. Nicky blamed that on Lorna's needy, whiny ass – her smoking hot one, don't get her wrong, and her wish to coddle him for as long as he stays her little Gattino. Her little Kitten.
Now, Nicky smiled too, putting a finger to her lips and then one onto Carmine's, giving Alex the eye as she did. Alex nodded in response and kept her laugh to herself. She was right to be laughing. This could end up being hilarious. Or, it could land her straight onto the Couch of Exile – their far from large and luxurious beat up garage sale sofa. It was the first purchase they made out of prison, ironically, before a hot meal or a cold bottle of water that didn't taste like it once had frogs boiling in it, the sofa that they couldn't bare to part with from their first apartment in Queens. Fuck it, today she was a betting woman. She was willing to roll the dice.
"Il cavallo del bambino va painino va pianino." She reveled in Lorna's soft, wispy voice for a moment, its timbre like cottonwood in the spring, falling all around her, before pushing the door open and scaring her poor, unsuspecting wife, her face paling despite the makeup as she gasped, loudly, along with a small sound that was familiar, like a scream, but muted.
It was otherwise known as her Carmine is a very light sleeper and what you're doing to me, Nichols, is very much amazing scream, and this time, Nicky refuses to grammatically correct her, because its too difficult to explain to a doe-eyed princess such as herself, why its incorrect, and also because that scream is her sex scream and its so very much something else, something dirty, that saying anything at all would ruin it.
Why she was screaming like that now was a mystery, but Nicky would take it. She would take it any day, anytime; would take her up against the sink, or the bathtub with a broken tap, even on the fucking floor, in one, quick and tawdry second. No hesitation. Ever.
"Oh, my, you sure scared me, Nicky! What was that about?"
Except when her five-year-old little boy with his watchful, curious eyes was right there. Then, she hesitated. Just a little. Enough to trip Lorna up, to make her think its over. But then the tables are turned and she's over her shock and fixing her with this look that transcribes every sense of longing, both in the physical and mental capacities, her eyes lurid with the heated color of a temptress, her body like fire. She knew what it was about. And it was so not over.
"Vause," her voice was suddenly gruff, husky with seduction and low with desire. "Watch the little Kisa for us, yeah? And turn the, whatever the hell he watches -"
"Paw Patrol," Lorna supplied, and Nicky was pleased to find that her voice was just as gravelly, if not more so, yet she had never, not once, touched a cig in her life, so it was all sex. Fuckin A. "Turn it up loud. Just don't damage those little ears. He needs those."
"Got it," Alex said, steering Carmine away from the bathroom and deftly fielding his questions – why are they both in there if its just Mommy who has to go to the bathroom? Mamma was just cleaning it, but she's done now, I saw it – with almost practiced strategy.
It was really a shame she'd never have her own kids. Unless she finds some way to double cross Piper and her birth control regimen, not just that, but also her 'sperm is off the table' rule. But, as they all knew from experience, it was quite the challenge to pull a fast one on ol' Chapman.
"Hello, trashy Audrey Hepburn."
Oh well, Nicky couldn't think about that now. Didn't want to. All she wanted to think about, the only thing she was capable of thinking about, right now, was the woman standing in front of her: hands low on her hips, all curved bones and elastic skin, and a pout on those beautiful, bowed and rubied lips; like a goddamn recalcitrant, sulky teenager, whose in love with a cradle robber at best and a slut to the nines at worst. She was so fucking sexy right now.
"Hello, vixenish Donna Reed," Nicky smirked, staring long and hard at her, at the pinup curls and the peachy colored dress she wore that looked like it came straight off the back of a model for Good Housekeeping, if that magazine had models.
They should, Nicky thought, licking her lips, they'd sell more. How much taffeta had to die a thousand deaths for that dress to be made? Shit, she really ought to resist more when Lorna forces her to watch those wedding dress shows with her. Even as she says it, she knows she can't. Nicky Nichols lives to make her woman happy, and happy she will be.
She clucked her tongue, didn't break her gaze, lustful and greedy. "You know, I'm afraid of the dark. Mind if I hide under that poufy little number of yours?"
Lorna furrowed her eyebrows, the giggle that had been blooming on her lips dying before it could flower. "It's not dark, though."
"Jesus, Lorn," Nicky said, more to herself than to her, leaning back against the wall and flicking the switch. "Play along will you?"
"Okay, okay, I will," Lorna nodded with a lip bite, that giggle now in full bloom again, pink and sweet smelling, the color of skin with that scent of dampness after a rainfall. Her favorite. All of it.
And then they were making out, and then they were having sex and it was all so expected, with a norm that they'd adjusted to and were satisfied with, and even though it sounds like boring old married sex, the same sex that used to give Nicky nightmares if it were merely thought about, its not, because there's a salaciousness to it that they have a desperate, clawing thirst for that's there in every thrust, every caress, every kiss, every word, every beginning and every end. It's there and they give in to it with every shuddered breath.
"You close?" Lorna murmured into her ear, and she's thinking about how long its been since she's been asked that, that for once, she's not the one asking and it feels so good; her wife's fingers and her hands and her weighted breaths, heavy with frustration and gooey with self-satisfaction… and then it's a different thought before she can even open her mouth, and that's that Lorna Morello should be damn well satisfied because she just fucked her wife without pause or patience, fucked her until she had no choice but to come at her fucking beckoned call.
When they were lying there, side by side on the bathroom floor, it took a minute of silence in solitude before Lorna curled into her and palmed her bare stomach, fleshy now, emerging with the beginnings of a bump. She was starting to show, and just like Lorna, Nicky couldn't wipe the shit-eating grin off of her face. It was just so cool.
It amazed her, what a woman's body was capable of. If Boo were here, she would say something like it was amazing what a gay woman's body could still do, without the man, and yeah, she'd be right. It was pretty fucking gay, she agreed as she kissed her wife, and pretty fucking cool.
"Do they know?" Lorna was whispering to her now. "About you – about the pregnancy?"
"Yeah kid," Nicky mumbled, her voice tired, as she tangled her fingers through Lorna's hair, dark, dark, and darker, and all it did was make her think that Carmine needed a haircut again, and soon, because, man, was his hair getting shaggy, falling everywhere so she couldn't see those beautiful, dark eyes. His Mamma's hair was hiding his Mamma's eyes. "They know."
It just wouldn't do, because she absolutely adored how much he looked like Lorna; Nicky Nichols had never used that word before, that is until her son was born, and just like that, one look at his cherub face, getting cheekier with age, his Mamma's cherub face, and it was almost every fifth word in her vocabulary. He was a beautiful boy and there were some days, especially now, that looking at him made her cry. A hormonal tick of sorts. Fucking pregnancy.
Nicky sighed as Lorna rubbed her hand along her belly and there was such love there, such admiration in her eyes, that Nicky almost refrained from saying what she was going to say next. Almost.
"They know about the human inside of me, but not the alien that's treating my uterus like it's a fucking Holiday Inn."
Lorna frowned down at her sympathetically. It was the same look Nicky had given her many times when she was pregnant with Carmine, in prison no less. It was weird but welcomed to be on the receiving end of such an intense feeling.
"Oh baby." Lorna sighed, and Nicky was flooded with a different kind of warmth. It was so rare for Lorna to call her that, and the sound of endearment dripping from her tongue was so auditorily pleasing it made her toes curl.
"Amore mio," she cooed, dropping a kiss onto Nicky's forehead and pressing her lips against her hairline. My love. "I'm sorry you're feeling so bad."
This was making Nicky want to stay pregnant forever. No matter how shitty it got. She could be professionally pregnant. Like a kangaroo. She didn't need this damn job, no sir.
"They gave me the job." Nicky didn't want to change the subject, could talk about her pregnancy and their baby forever if she could. "Told me they would have enough staff to cover my mat leave when the time comes."
It was just as a cashier at a shitty chain grocery store, but her boss was actually incredibly nice, even if he did seem a little perverted, which really should have deterred her more than it did. A job was a job.
"Oh, that's great, Nicks!" Lorna squealed. "I'm so proud of you. For everything."
She rubbed her hand affectionately over her distending abdomen again, the less than perfect picture of a burgeoning baby bump. Lorna had looked great pregnant. Carried her weight well. Nicky wasn't sure how it would be for her.
Lorna pressed her ear against her skin and Nicky began to card her fingers through her hair again. A bit of a nervous habit she'd developed since becoming inseminated with one of Donor 567342's pride and joys. Becoming pregnant with her and Lorna's second child. Anonymized sperm was just a means to an end.
"I can hear her in there, you know." Lorna whispered to her, giving her a smile. "She's talking to me."
Nicky chuckled, pulling a little on the ends of her hair. "She doesn't have ears yet, you doofus. She isn't even a she."
Lorna looked up at her, her eyes serious, her voice raspy. "I saw the poop, Nicky. The poop doesn't lie."
Nicky remembered that day. She'd just finished going about her business, wiping up when the door opened an inch.
Figuring it was her son but found it weird that there was an absence of his tickling laughter, she pressed on. "Mommy's just going to the bathroom, Kisa, have you finished your cereal?" What she wanted to say, to scream actually, was Christ, kid just let me shit in peace for once alright but ultimately knowing that it would make her fail out of Parenting 101 and forget about being in Lorna's good graces for weeks after that. She couldn't risk it.
"It's just me, Nicks," Lorna's voice rang out and Nicky knew she would come in regardless if she got permission or not. It was just what Lorna did. And it was fine. Most of the time. Right now, though, was a tossup. "I came to inspect your poop."
What a day it was. After five uncomfortable minutes, during which Nicky stood by while Lorna took in her steaming pile of waste in all of its shitty glory, Lorna determined with no nonsense that their baby was a girl this time. And Nicky didn't have the energy to argue with her. Still didn't. So, she remained a she and would until the day she's born, and the poop is possibly proved otherwise.
"Right, right," Nicky murmured, covering a yawn with her hand. "The poop and all that."
"Yes, the poop and all that. It's serious stuff, Nicky." Lorna told her, standing up from off the floor and smoothing her dress, helping Nicky up and doing the same to her skirt and blouse ensemble, eerily similar to the one from the prison riot that was a lifetime ago.
"Okay kid," Nicky said, brushing down Lorna's hair and then her own, which was surprisingly still straight, her bangs flopping in her face like a child's. "I'll believe you. Now let's go before Carmine gets suspicious. Too smart for his own good that one."
A few minutes later, Alex had said her goodbyes and Nicky and Lorna were squished in on either side of their son, who reveled being in the middle – so affectionate, their boy – as yet another episode of Paw Patrol started.
"You know Mommy's pregnant, Kitten?" Lorna asked him, and she was met with a bit of a blank stare. "What?"
Nicky put her hand on his shoulder and he turned to her, eyes puzzled and facial features wide and curious. "I've got a baby inside of me, Kisa. A baby who's going to grow big and strong just like you."
She tickled under his armpits and he grinned at her. "This baby is my sister?"
Jesus. Lorna must have told him. Probably all about her poop suspicions. "Yeah, babe," she told him, not missing a beat. "She will be."
Carmine's smile got wider and he clapped his hands together. "Does she have a name?"
As Nicky shook her head, Lorna interjected. "Not yet piccolo."
Carmine just stared at Lorna, his mouth opened a little. Lorna it seemed, realized her mistake too late. As always. She loved the woman, but damn.
The little boy's face went red with anger that likely came from a place of confusion and over tiredness. He hadn't had his nap today. "Piccolo is Auntie Franny's name for me, Mamma! You can't call me it!"
Lorna's face registered her fault, it seemed, a second before her mind did, crumbling before she spoke. "Oh, Kitten, I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry. You're my Gattino, you know that."
Lorna was visibly distressed now, if not more so than Carmine, and she kissed his mused curls over and over, while rubbing his back to sooth his beginnings of sobs.
Carmine's face smoothed out after a minute, ruddy still but he was smiling again, nuzzling against his Mamma. "I know," he said and then it was all forgotten when Nicky reached over and placed his hand on her abdomen. "You wanna help think of names for your sissy, Kisa?"
His attention was on Nicky now and the baby. "Mhm!"
"Okay great." Nicky breathed out a sigh of relief and could hear Lorna doing the same. Crisis averted. For now.
"What's her special name, Mommy? I have Kisa and Gattino and Kitten, but she can't have those."
Huh. Possessive little bugger already. Awesome.
"I was thinking of Cucciolo. You know what that means, right, love?" Lorna asked him, and when he answered her, puppy, her eyes shone even brighter.
When Carmine was just shy of one month, Lorna had brought up her desire to bring him up with bits of her heritage and Nicky was on board one hundred and ten percent, if only because she'd made a promise to Red to bring him up with some Russian in him, so that she could bond even more with her grandson. That was how Red became Babushka Krasnyy and Carmine became Kisa where Nicky was concerned.
Baby Girl Nichorello would have a multitude of nicknames, clearly. It was first Taystee's moniker because, when they told her one visit awhile back, she said that 'Baby Girl Nichols-Morello' was 'a fricken mouthful' and that was followed by a ten-minute rant about why they just didn't just swallow their damn pride and take one of their last names. Combine 'em or something at least.' So, Nichorello it was, and Nicky didn't mind it. It sounded like it should be another brand of coconut chocolate bars.
"I know why!" Carmine was saying, and Nicky zoned back into the conversation with a bit of a start. Pregnancy was making her spacey. "Cause kittens and puppies go together. Like PB and J!"
She had to hand it to Lorna, that was kind of cute as hell. "So, then she's your Shchenok, Mommy!"
Now it was Nicky's eyes that were misting over. "That's right, babe."
Carmine smiled proudly, puffing out his little very prepubescent chest, all skin and bone and then nestled back into the nook made by his parents. There was a minute of silence, with Lorna off in thought, her hand absently knotting itself in their son's hair, his sweaty head against her palm, and Nicky staring at them both, her hand pressed firm against her belly where She with the Thousand Names was quietly resting. Carmine had his thumb against his lower lip, his other hand kneading the blanket on his lap as he remained engrossed in his show.
Then the silence was broken once the episode was over.
"I can't wait till sissy gets here. I want to show her Paw Patrol and let her try my Lucky Charms for breakfast because I know she'll love them just like me. And we can show her how to play Twister without falling down!"
Lorna let out a little cry and Nicky sniffed a bit too. She couldn't help it. It was just so damn adorable.
"We can do all of that Gattino and more, I promise, baby," Lorna told him, hugging him close to her side and gently removing his thumb from his lips.
Nicky leaned against Carmine's other side and intertwined his tiny little hand with hers on her belly, seconding her wife's sentiment with a kiss to his head.
"So much more, Kisa. You two are going to have the best life. We promise you that."