Days Go By Like Weeks
The next few weeks rolled by without any more noteworthy fits of paranoia on Logan's part, and the end of November soon gave way to the coldest time of year. One frosty Monday morning, just days before Christmas, Clay awoke to the now accustomed sounds of violent retching coming from the master bathroom. Knowing Quinn hated drawing attention to her miserable bouts of nausea, he stretched luxuriously and sat up, waiting for her to emerge. Eventually, the toilet flush sounded, followed by the rush of tap water.
Clay shifted impatiently on the bed, exercising all his self-control not to get up and pounce as soon as she emerged. Finally, the bathroom door opened and Quinn stepped out onto the carpeted floor with a sigh. "Didn't get my slippers on in time today," she shuddered. "We seriously need to get that floor heating seen to…it's freezing in here!"
Clay just grinned widely; "Hmm, let's see if we can't do something about that incredibly serious problem, shall we? Get over here," he teased, holding out his hand to her temptingly.
Quinn absently pulled out the rubber band she had hastily used to make a messy ponytail and ruffled her hair before crossing over the bed. "Sorry I'm not pretty for you right now," she mumbled, leaning against his shoulder for a split second before deciding her toes were in greater need of some warmth. "This part of the experience is super gross."
"If that's your story," Clay replied coolly, scrambling after her with determination as she crawled into the middle of the bed and tucked her cold feet back under the hastily discarded sheets. "If you ask me, Polly has never looked more beautiful."
Quinn grimaced at him in confusion while Clay toyed affectionately with a loose strand of her hair. "Who the hell is Polly?"
"You are now Polly. The cracker diet dictates your new nickname. Polly want a cracker?" he asked in a mocking baby voice as if he was speaking to a pet parrot.
"Meanie," Quinn groaned, rolling her eyes half-heartedly as she grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at his head, her aim failing miserably. "Stop with the smirk; you're evil!"
"Did you brush your teeth again?" he asked, still grinning as he dodged the assault with ease and shifted closer to her once more.
"Obviously," she muttered. "Why?"
"So that I can do this, without it being gross," he breathed, closing the distance between them in one swoop to press a gentle kiss to her lips. "Here's to the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Charmed, I'm sure," Quinn teased back; "Very smooth…only too bad, there's no time for a quickie with my darling Sergio. See, my husband Clay has to go help his son get some breakfast before school."
"How sad," Clay sighed, clutching his heart dramatically. "I'm offended now. Just by the way, you mean our son," he corrected with another quick kiss before pulling back for good.
"Indeed I do," Quinn smiled. "Better hurry up, or he'll be late," she urged. "Polly will be right out for some super boring crackers, see you soon."
"Never soon enough," he insisted and turned reluctantly to go and wake Logan at last. Across the landing, his son was already sitting up in bed with a comic book propped open on his lap. Clay knocked on the door frame with a smile at the sight; "Hey Wolverine, ready for some breakfast? It is still a school day, you know."
"Yeah, I know," Logan said softly.
He put the comic aside but didn't look up, and Clay hesitantly entered the room and sat down at the foot of the bed; "What's on your mind, kid? You're too quiet. Is sticking with Jamie after school today going to be a problem?"
Logan chewed his lower lip in nervous silence for a moment and then shook his head. "That's not it," he said. "Is Mama Q, okay? I heard her being sick again."
Clay smiled and gripped the little boy's shoulder comfortingly; "She's a human alarm clock every morning now," he laughed. "Don't worry, kiddo; it's all part of having a baby. It's probably one of the grossest parts of the whole thing but nothing to worry about, okay? She'll be fine, I promise."
"Good," said Logan absently, but he didn't look any less worried as Clay pulled him up from the bed and led him down the stairs to the kitchen. The eight-year-old perched in thoughtful silence on one of the chairs around their breakfast table while Clay reached into the cupboard for his cereal.
"Grow some more, then you'll be able to reach this yourself," he joked, placing the cereal carton and a bowl in front of the boy.
Logan helped himself without a word, only meeting Clay's gaze after he had downed the first bite. "Dad…you're gonna meet the new baby today, right?" he asked hesitantly.
"Kind of," Clay explained. "The baby is still growing, you know, it's just going to be a picture right now. Why do you ask?"
Logan swallowed hard, and the spoon in his hand began to tremble dangerously; "I…um, can you promise you won't like the new baby better than me?" he begged desperately.
"What?" Clay grimaced. He sat down opposite the little boy and held onto both his shaking hands. "I thought you were becoming okay with this," he sighed. "Listen to me…you're not competing with this baby, okay?" He squeezed Logan's shaking hands once more and stood up; "Keep eating, you've got to be ready for school soon. I just need to get something to show you. I'll be right back, okay?"
Logan did as he asked with a reluctant nod, and a few minutes later, Clay joined him once more. He placed a photo frame delicately on the kitchen table and turned it so that the picture was facing his son. The eight-year-old leaned forward curiously and smiled despite himself; "Is that me?" he asked in amazement.
"You bet it is, you goof." Clay smiled fondly at the photograph. "Half the things and people in this photograph are gone forever. That armchair belonged to my Dad; your Mommy loved it almost more than me some days."
"Really?" Logan giggled and stared at the tiny bundle in Sara's arms in wonder. "I love how happy you look," he remarked. "Nana told me about the chair once actually. She said it was around when you were a baby, sounds crazy."
"Are you calling me ancient, bud?" Clay teased. "It was though, that chair survived many crazy times in my family. This picture," he said with a nod at the photograph: "was taken the day you came home from the hospital. Your Mommy and I couldn't stop staring at you for one minute," he swore solemnly. "You remember I told you how counting to two was my special thing with her?"
"Yeah," Logan nodded with a grin; the story of the college bridge jump was one of his all-time favorites.
"Well, I never told you this one," Clay continued. "You were even born on the count of two."
"No way," Logan gasped, and his eyes widened adorably in awe. "That's so cool!"
"That can be your bedtime story for tonight if you want," Clay promised, as the little boy quickly drained the last of his milk from the bowl. "You better hurry and get dressed right now, though, okay?"
"Fine." His son sighed reluctantly and almost collided with Quinn on his way back upstairs. "Oops, sorry, Mom," he said quickly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm not a paper doll, honey," she smiled. "All good, I promise." She gave him an affectionate squeeze then nudged him in the direction of the stairs. "Hurry up now, Jamie's going to be here to walk you to school any minute," she reminded him.
"Yes, boss," Logan saluted with a grin and ran up the stairs.
"That's what I just said," Clay gasped in mock-despair, staring after the retreating eight-year-old.
"He likes me better," Quinn winked and stepped into his firm embrace with a contented sigh. But Clay didn't smile, and then she noticed the photograph on the kitchen table; "Did I miss something?" she asked gently.
"He's still worried about us liking the new baby better," Clay explained with a heavy sigh. Quinn's loving gaze clouded with concern at his despairing tone. "He's seemed fine for weeks…I guess the milestones trigger this paranoia or something. Sorry about this," he said, gesturing vaguely at the photograph. "This is our big day, not the time to be thinking about ghosts," he smiled.
"Don't you dare apologize," she shot back firmly, smiling at the photograph in turn. "This is exactly the time to look back; you're so lucky to have experienced this miracle before." She looped her arms around his neck and drew close enough for a kiss. Before their lips collided, she said with firm conviction: "Sara will always be the reason that amazing kid exists, you might want to remind him of that."
"I'm doing my best," he murmured, distracted by her proximity. "Do you have any idea how much I love you, Q?"
"Just a little hunch," she teased and finally crashed her lips against his. "As soon as Logan is out of here, Shutter-Bug wants a date with Sergio," she demanded flirtatiously. "We have plenty of time before the doctor's appointment, and you can never resist that glittery superhero mask."
"I can when Shutter-Bug is having my baby," he protested firmly. "I doubt that other boyfriend you always used to threaten to spend Valentine's Day with could have pulled that one off, all my hard work."
"Oh really, is that so?" Quinn raised her eyebrows with a skeptical grin. "The cockiness is a huge turn-on, Mr. Evans," she whispered in his ear. "Either cut it out or accept the fact that Shutter-Bug is getting exactly what she wants very soon indeed."
"Don't bet on that, sweetheart," he said firmly. "Sergio might not be bothered about this baby, but Clay most definitely has priorities. My family comes before Shutter-Bug's crazy urges, deal with it."
"You're a total meanie," Quinn groaned, rolling her eyes at him as she pulled out a fresh box of crackers from the cupboard with a disgusted grimace. "And I love you."
"I'm pretty sure that's the coffee deprivation talking, missy," he said knowingly, dropping kisses to her exposed shoulder blades while she struggled with the sealed box. "I love you, too."
"Saved by the bell," Quinn giggled at Clay's exasperated expression and shoved the box of crackers at him, as the doorbell clanged. "Get this open, would you? I'm starving," she complained and moved to answer the persistent doorbell. "Logan, Jamie's here!" Quinn yelled up the stairs as she pulled open the front door. "And Chuck," she added in surprise. "Quite an escort party, buddy," she grinned at Jamie's casual shrug. "Come in for a sec; Logan should be down in a minute." She returned her nephew's affectionate hug while Chuck looked on, rolling his eyes; "You'll take Logan home with you after school today, right?" she double-checked seriously. "Be nice, the doctor's appointment is freaking him out a bit."
"I'm always nice," Jamie protested good-naturedly. "Don't worry, Aunt Quinn, he'll be okay," he promised. He grinned widely at her still flat stomach; "Good luck today, this is too cool. Are you nervous?"
"A little," Quinn admitted. "Any firsts are scary, that doesn't change no matter how old you get."
"Not that we're old," Clay cut in with a laugh, emerging from the kitchen at that moment. "Your crackers, madam," he said, handing Quinn the plate with a mocking bow. "Hey, kids."
"I remember that cracker eating competition we had in the hospital when Lydia was born," said Jamie nostalgically. "That's a way boring breakfast, Aunt Quinn."
"Her options are limited if Mr. Toilet Bowl isn't destined to see more of her than I am," Clay joked, and Quinn elbowed him in the ribs with a frustrated huff. "Ouch! Well, it's true, I must not tell lies," he winked at Jamie. "That's the motto of Harry Potter, right, Jamie?"
"You're finally learning." Jamie was beaming with pride when Logan charged suddenly down the stairs. "It's about time, Wolverine, let's go!"
"We'll pick you up tonight, kiddo," Clay reminded his son, ruffling Logan's hair as the boy dashed past him and out the door. "Be good for Uncle Nate and Aunt Haley, okay?"
"Always," Logan called over his shoulder, and then he screeched to a halt and rushed back up the porch steps with Chuck and Jamie looking on impatiently. "Good luck," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Quinn's cheek and quickly hugging his father. "Love you."
"We love you too," they said in unison, and then Clay put his arm around Quinn, and they stood on the beach house porch watching the three boys dashing across the beach on their way to another school day.
A / N I'm enjoying the OTP fuzzies too much, ahh! Enjoy xx