Happiness is something that comes into our lives through doors we don't even remember leaving open.
~Rose Lane
A/N: Chronologically set after Chapter 6: Number One. I know I said I would try to stay in order but that sorta didn't happen after all. At least I tried. ^_^;
Children never charmed her. As far as she was concerned kids, more so babies, were nothing more than a distraction and a nuisance. Noisy ones at that. They were simply wailing little brats that, at the end of the day, were nothing but in the way. Incapable of taking care of themselves babies required constant supervision and care, both of which Emma had no time for. If she was to continue her life as a ruthless mercenary she shouldn't have found herself distracted by trivial things such as infantile bothers. Children would gain her no advantage in her profession. They were an utter waste of her space and, more importantly, her time.
So as she glowered at the toddler sitting on her lap she internally cursed herself for allowing anything of the sort to distract her. The toddler's brown eyes blinked innocently up at her mother as Emma scowled and openly showcased her discontent. Even as she continued to glower at the small child nestling into her side it continued to blink and stare at the woman, blissfully unaware of her mother's hatred. The toddler simply closed her eyes and comfortingly fell asleep. Wanting nothing more than to push the child away, but also taking into consideration that this was the first quiet moment she had in hours, Emma groaned and turned her head, leaving the sleeping toddler to its own devices.
An involuntary growl vibrated in her throat. If someone were to ask her how she ended up in this situation, she would simply shrug it off as a moment of weakness and lust. The act meant nothing. It was a formality and nothing more. She had, perhaps, felt some pity for her then husband. Though, even if she wouldn't admit it, she still deeply loved him, even if he did become a monster. In the morning, Emma was on her way. Unbeknownst to them both, Ravager gave her a parting gift. This gift came with a price: a wailing, wriggling, demanding price.
Even though the girl was nearly two-years-old, Emma had yet to give her daughter more than an ounce of attention, besides the necessary requirements to keep it alive and content. She had hardly even looked at it. The child would only end up reminding her of him so there was no need to knowingly aggravate herself.
Averting her gaze, despite her better judgment to ignore the child burying into her side, she found herself glancing back at it. She studied her daughter for the first time, noting that the child inherited her mother's skin tone and facial features. Yet another person she rather not think about. The child made a sniffing sound in her sleep before snuggling herself deeper into Emma. For a mere second, the corner of Emma's lips began to upturn in a half-lopsided smile but only for a second. As quickly as the grin invaded her expressionless demeanor, with just a mere sigh her stone cold aura returned and her emerald eyes continued to wander over her daughter.
No distractions. Sure, the girl was cute if one adored those types of things: squirmy, little babies that batted their lashes and murmured indecipherable gibberish. A chorus of awes would echo through a room but not from her. The child was a distraction from her future. A future that didn't involve a bunch of drooling, whining brats crisscrossing around her. Despite her previous intentions, and much to her despair, this kid was now a part of her life. Whether she liked it or not, her destiny was now intertwined with this little thing. She was stuck with this brat. A brat that looked too much like her ex-husband, a constant reminder of her stupidity, and her mother, the main source of her anger.
With another peaking glance back at the sleeping toddler the elusive smile returned against her free will. The child had buried herself into Emma's side, a smile invading her own small face. The normally ruthless mercenary was overcome by a feeling of warmth. A feeling she had not felt in years. Her veins ran with ice, her demeanor was cold and stone hard. That's how she got through it all. That warm fuzzy feeling that kid was giving her, it felt foreign. Yet it didn't feel immoral. Perhaps she could like the girl...maybe even love? No, love was too strong of a word for her. Emma didn't believe she could learn to love anyone ever again. Not after what she had been through.
Emma sighed and picked the girl up as she moaned in protest, not wanting to be awakened. Emma laid herself down on the couch and set the toddler on top of her. She gave the child an almost affectionate kiss on the top of the head. Soon, the girl was lulled to sleep content and warm in her mother's embrace. For once, Emma didn't wish to push Jaye away.
She pulled Jaye closer, wrapping a protective arm around her small frame. Lulled by the sound of her daughter's rhythmic breathing, the mercenary drifted off. A chaste smile adorned her face as her eyelids fluttered. Perhaps she could learn to at least like her little brat after all.