Pete has always hated the cold. He has never understood the appeal of the snow, the way it freezes you to your bones, how you need to pile under four blankets and wear two pairs of socks just to feel normal again. But today, playing out in the snow with Ginny and Myka, building snowmen and making snow angels, Pete has had the time of his life.
Pete felt his wife move in closer, her chest against his back, and he grinned. He loved being that close to her. He turned his head, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "Close enough yet?" He grinned, feeling her shift closer still.
"Nope." He heard her answer innocently. "We are cold, and you're keeping us warm." At that, he broke into a smile so wide, he thought it would fall off his face. She was a buttering him up, and she knew it.
He turned onto his back, stretching his arm around her and pulling her close. She rested her head on his chest, her wild curls falling all over his torso. He loved her curls, and he loved them on their daughter. He placed his other hand on her flat stomach, and wondered if the one in there would have curls too. Her stomach was still flat now, but he remembered how big she got when she was pregnant with Ginny, and he never had seen her look so sexy. He wondered if this one would move as much as Ginny did. He wondered if this one would be as much of a Myka clone, not that he would complain if it was, but he kind of wanted at least one of his children to look like him. "You know, I never get tired of hearing you talk like that." He told her, his hand rubbing circles on her exposed skin.
"And I don't get tired of saying it." She replied. Pete felt the muscles of her face pull toward the corners of her mouth, and he smiled with her. The hand that was around her back found one of her curls, and he absentmindedly wrapped it around his finger again and again. He couldn't be more excited to be a father again. It was one of those things he was apprehensive about at first, because his father figure had been taken from him and he wasn't sure he had a good role model. But after holding Ginny in his arms, those fears all washed away. He couldn't wait to tell Ginny she was going to be a big sister.
"What's on your mind?" His wife's voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present moment.
"When are we telling Ginny?" He was thinking a lot of things, that was just what was on his mind when she asked. She was silent for a while, thinking things over. Pete could almost see the gears in her head turning, even though he couldn't see most of her face.
He felt her shoulders lift up toward her head. "Let me do some more research, and I'll let you know." Pete couldn't help the quiet laugh that escaped from him without permission. It was such a Myka answer, in the fact that it wasn't an answer, but something she had to research. When he stopped laughing, she spoke again. "Have you thought of any names?"
He smirked. "Is Juliet back on the table?" He wasn't prepared for the smack. She connected with his chest, and it sounded like it hurt more than it did. He laughed, removing his hand from his abdomen and rubbing it on his chest, feigning pain.
"No. I don't want a daughter named Juliet. Not even for a middle name." She was quiet for a minute. "I think I want to stick to Shakespearean names for middle names, I'm not really a fan of them as first names." Her voice was quiet and inquisitive. Pete had to agree with her. Ginny got lucky with a name like Imogen, there weren't many other names that were easy to pull off.
He nodded, letting her know it was okay. "Sounds okay to me. What names are there, other than Juliet?"
"Well, there's Bianca, Katherina, Viola, Isabella and Miranda." She always impressed him, especially when she rattled things off like this as if they were things everyone knew. She pulled the names out of her head in a minute.
"Not Miranda, that's my niece's name." He said flatly.
"And Viola is Tracy's middle name, but I don't see why we can't still use it if we like it." She responded. He understood exactly why she didn't want any of those options as first names. They both hated Bianca, Myka had vetoed Katherina when they were talking about Ginny's name (something about the character that she hated and couldn't disconnect from the name), and although they could use Viola, it made their potential baby girl sound like an old lady. Isabella was beautiful, but all Pete could think of was those awful twilight books, and he didn't want to seem like he was jumping on that bandwagon. So he nodded, agreeing on a Shakespearean middle name.
What they hadn't talked about was boy names. Pete was worried, that the name they talked about last time was off the table. "What about boy names?" Pete tried to seem nonchalant, like he didn't care about the name.
"We already have a boy name picked out." She answered, sounding concerned.
Pete didn't want to push if she wasn't actually on board. "Are you still okay with that? Have you figured a middle name out for that yet?" He asked hesitantly.
She pulled her head up to look in his eyes. Hers shone with appreciation. "Of course I am okay with naming a boy after your father, Pete. You don't have to ask." He could see it in her eyes, she meant it, and it meant the world to him. He hugged her tighter to him, and she placed her head back on his chest, wiggling closer to him until she found that sweet spot on his chest where her head would rest. "I don't have a middle name picked yet, but I have a few contenders." She answered his second question quickly. He listened to her breathing slow and watched her eyelids flutter as she started to drift off to sleep.
He startled when she looked towards the door, where their four year old was whimpering, rubbing her eyes, her curls sticking up all over her head. "Mumma? Daddy? Are you awake?" She whispered, her breath hitching. "I had a bad dream."
Myka sat up, stretching out her arms. "I am awake baby girl. Why don't you come up here with me and Daddy and tell us all about your dream." Ginny nodded, her curls shaking even more out of place, and Pete had to stifle a giggle.
Myka helped Ginny up on to the bed. She placed the little girl in between them, and Pete wrapped his arms around her tiny frame protectively. He couldn't protect her in her dreams, but he could make sure she knew he was there for her. She faced Myka. "Some scary men kidnapped me." Her voice was small and it wavered. Pete kissed the top of her head.
Myka moved closer, looking straight into Ginny's eyes, making sure Ginny knew that she wasn't going anywhere. "They did? Where did they take you?" She asked, prompting Ginny to continue.
"A big castle. And they told me I had to live there, and I would never see you again." She pouted. "I was sad. Castles are cool, but only if you and Daddy are there with me."
Pete stoked her hair. "You know, Mumma and I would always come looking for you. Aunt Claude would hack all the world's security cameras and use facial recognition software to find where you were and when you were there last." He could see her at the computer now, tapping away while Pete paced behind her like a caged tiger. "We would track you and save you so fast you wouldn't even notice you were gone." He smiled, thinking of a sure fire way to cheer up the precious child pressed up against him. "Just think, Ginny. If you weren't home, who would I tickle?" He launched an all-out attack, his heart soaring at the sound of her gleeful squeals. He was relieved when Myka joined in, any concerns he had about getting a lecture about the late hour disappeared.
They slowly settled back down again. Ginny turned her head to look at her father. "But you did find me." She explained. She turned her head back towards her mother. "You came into the castle in a big horse!" Pete knew where this was going right away, and shot Myka a look. Classic stories made great bedtime stories, but only ones that wouldn't give her nightmares. It was one of those things that Pete and Myka argued about most. Her green eyes found his, and she shot him an apologetic look.
Ginny continued. "You and Aunt Claude and Uncle Steve and Granpa Artie came out of the horse and started shooting people with your teslas." She pointed at Pete and rattled off the other names on her fingers.
"Not me?" Myka asked. Pete could hear panic in her voice. Even he was a little concerned that Myka wasn't saving Ginny in her nightmare.
Ginny shook her head. "No, Mumma. You had a sword!" Her grin was infectious as she looked after her mother with admiration.
Pete leaned forward, like he was telling Ginny a secret. "See, that's a good thing honey. Mumma is bad ass with a sword in her hand!" He pretended to whisper in her ear, and she giggled in his arms.
"Pete!" Myka slapped his chest, and Ginny laughed louder.
"Ow." He complained, rubbing his chest for the second time that day. "I'm sorry, okay? I meant to say that Mumma kicks butt with a sword." He shot Myka the same look she shot him when Ginny started to recount her dream. This time, they were even. Next time he wouldn't let her forget it though.
This time, it was Myka who wrapped the little girl into her arms. Pete's heart swelled again as he watched the two of them snuggle. He had been right when he told Myka that Ginny would be her clone. The only part of himself he saw in his daughter was her eyes and the way she could mirror his grin. Also, they shared his love of cookies, but everything else was pure Myka. "If we saved you, why are you scared?" Myka asked quietly.
"You didn't save me yet. You were just trying to. Then I woke up. It was really scary, Mumma."
Myka stroked her curly hair. "I know, sweetheart. But we have you now, and you're safe. Nothing bad can happen to you here." Ginny nodded, and Pete moved closer, sandwiching her in between them, protecting her from her fears. Pete placed a kiss on her head. Soon her breathing began to slow. Pete listened to her sleep for a while before he felt his own eyelids getting heavy. He looked past his daughter to his wife, who was holding her. Her eyes were focused on the sleeping child, a smile on her face. Pete grinned, studying her for a bit before his eyelids gave out and he fell asleep.