Author's Notes: Please be warned: the fluff levels of this story are off the charts, no exaggeration, so be careful if you choose to read. This story could be potentionally dangerous to those of low fluff tolerance levels. (Such as myself... this is a pain to reread!) Anyway... if fluff is your thing, enjoy! If not... I'm working on awkward conversation?

Please review!

Alisa

Just Him and Her

Peaceful Sleeper

She could hear it, if just barely, over the sound of the wind against the side of the building. She could feel it, a flicker of a shadow against the pads of her feet, among the reflected vibrations of mats and tables. She could sense it, hanging in the air like a pleasant memory, drifting through the scents and moments that made up her home.

It was life.

Setting down her grocery basket on a heavy marble table, she quietly trekked through the kitchen and into the living room. There they were, resting peacefully on the floor, the imprint of their bodies slightly marred by the woven rug underneath them. She let the vibrations flow over her, one for every inhale, another for every exhale. It soothed her very core, the waves of life and sighs of breath that emanated from the sleeping pair, and it touched on a nerve that hadn't had the time to be examined in a long while in her busy life.

A flood of overwhelming gratitude and heartbreaking love crashed over her in wave after sweet wave, washing away weeks of stress and frazzled nerves and sleepless nights. Time and time again she was thankful for what she had, always and truly, but it wasn't until now that she realized what her life would be like without the stress and frazzled nerves and sleepless nights:

Nothing.

Tears pricked at her sightless eyes as she knelt next to the warm, comforting forms of her two greatest blessings. Every night she went to bed with them beside her, and every morning she woke to a tender touch or a good tug at her hair.

Every day she would want to hit the pause button on her life and regain control of it as it skyrocketed out of her hands. It was like living in the air.

She didn't have time to rest; she didn't have time to think anymore. It was laundry, food, cleaning, never a moment to pause and thank the spirits that there were people willing to put up with half-washed clothes and burnt fish and dust bunnies in the corners. She never had a chance to be happy that she was blessed with the greatest gifts of all.

A quick inhale; a small, sleepy sigh. Her hand automatically went to the dark head and stroked the short locks—a contented snore came from the tiny body and a rosy cheek pressed further into the soft, dark skin of the body under her.

These two wonderful, beautiful people, these holy gods needless of her worship—how could she ever survive without them? They were her life, her morning and her evening, her kiss goodnight and her sweet-dreams… did they know how much she loved them, how much she needed them to go on? Did they know they were the only reason the Earth spun on? Did they know that they brought sight to her eyes and light to her entire world?

"Toph…?"

She quickly wiped at the tears threatening to trace lazy patterns down her cheeks and smiled at the sleepy-eyed form of her husband. "Glad to see you're finally awake, Snoozles," she murmured, gliding her fingers over his forehead and giving his wolf's tail a playful tug.

He heaved a great yawn in response and stretched his fingers to brush against her knees. The other hand rested protectively over the small frame of the baby napping on his chest.

"Me and Oma—" He paused to yawn again. "Me and Oma were just taking a quick afternoon nap while you went shopping."

A grin flicked across her features. "Obviously." She rubbed her hand against the one on her knee and followed the hot skin up to his elbow, almost unconsciously. She could feel his pulse beating a steady rhythm through his body.

The words slipped from between her lips before she had a chance to consider. "Can I hold her?"

She felt his incredulity and wished she could take it back, but then he was sitting up and the warm, sleeping bundle was being pressed against her chest. Her arms folded naturally around the child and she breathed a satisfied sigh.

"You know," he said, arms stretched above his head, "you don't have to ask me if you want to hold her. She's not just mine."

"I know," she answered, then more assuredly, "I know."

He chuckled and slid next to her, fingers brushing the black hair of the baby nestled in her arms. "You can hold her whenever you want," he quietly reminded her, his hand moving from his daughter's hair to his wife's.

"Sometimes I feel like I hold her too much," she admitted, leaning into his touch as he fumbled with her headband. "Doesn't it seem like I hog her?"

"You're her mom," he mumbled, the headband falling from her hair. "You're allowed to hog her all you want."

She smiled as the infant in her arms lazily blinked open bright blue eyes. "I'm really glad she's here, you know. I don't know what I would do without her. Maybe that's why I hold her so much."

He paused from running his hands through her hair and jutted out his lower lip in a pout. "What about me?" he mumbled.

A smirk bloomed on her face. "Don't worry, I'm glad you're here too," she responded. "Without you, I wouldn't have Oma at all."

She could sense the scowl on his face and chuckled. "You're not that bad to be around. Besides," she added slyly, "Oma's not the only one I like to hold."

His arms slid around hers and he lowered his mouth to her ear. "You suggesting something?" he murmured.

"Not with an eight-week-old baby, I'm not," she was quick to correct him. "I am not spitting out kid after kid like your sister does."

"Hmm…" He rested his chin on her shoulder. "Maybe you're right."

She scoffed. "Of course I am. I'm the one giving birth, so I get to make the decisions. Unless you want to give it a try…?"

He quickly shook his head against her shoulder. "That's one women's job I'm not willing to do."

She laughed and the little girl in her arms waved a fist through the air. Grinning, she dropped a kiss on her baby's nose and then one on her husband's jaw. "You two really are something," she murmured.

He breathed a laugh in her ear. "I wonder where we get it from."

She turned to the tiny girl in her arms and smiled, feeling the flickering beats of three hearts. Throughout it all, every day and every hectic night, there was a reason she struggled on, two beautiful reasons that she could never give up. They reminded her why she did everything she did, why she worked as hard as she did, why she tried as hard as she did: it was all for them.

Everything she did was for them.