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queenofcats17 · 6 years ago

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Dimensional Shenanigans

I’ve written stories about @insane-control-room‘s Johan meeting my Joey, Freckle, but I thought it would be cool to write one of my main BATIM oc’s meeting dear Johan

Although it did turn into Freckle and Johan having a heart to heart because Control and I ended up rping.

Cordelia was lost. Not literally, but figuratively. She’d fallen asleep in the break room, only to wake up to a man she didn’t recognize standing over her. He had Joey’s voice, but the man in front of her was absolutely not the Joey Drew she knew. He was tall and dark skinned, with hair so dark black it was almost blue, and pink glasses covering eyes that she was quite certain were red. He looked confused by her presence, and she could see some apprehension in his posture and expression. He reminded her a little of her brother if she was being honest. But that was beside the point. She didn’t recognize this man. And, looking around, she found she didn’t recognize the breakroom either. It looked different than the one she was used to.

“Miss?” The tall man’s voice was quiet and polite as she stumbled to her feet, looking frantically around the room. “Do you know where you are?”

“I...This is the studio, isn’t it?” She asked, her heart beginning to race. “This is Joey Drew Studios, right?” She was starting to hyperventilate a little. This wasn’t the studio she was familiar with. She was certain of it now. It had a similar layout, but the little details were different. The dartboard Joey had put in was gone. Recently some of the other employees had started putting a crude drawing of Joey up to throw darts at. It had been there when she’d fallen asleep. And where was her coffee tray? She’d left it near the coffee maker. Even the coffee maker was different. But there were still Bendy cutouts around the room and a punch station in the corner.

“This...Where am I?” She looked back at the tall man. “This isn’t the studio. This isn’t my studio!” Her voice got higher as her panic increased.

“Why don’t you come with me?” The tall man suggested. There was a tenderness in his voice that she’d never heard in her own Joey’s voice. He had such sad eyes. Eyes like hers. Eyes like her brother’s. She was calmed a bit by his presence. However, her anxiety remained at a low hum.

“I’ll get you some tea.” The tall man gestured for her to follow him.

“I-I don’t want to be a bother.” She mumbled, feeling her cheeks beginning to warm. God, she felt stupid. This was probably his studio. She was a trespasser here. She’d just shown up and had a panic attack.

“It’s no trouble.” The man assured her, stopping at the top of the stairs. “Please.” She hesitated, playing with the hem of her skirt.

“Thank you.” She said, stopping next to him.

“You’re welcome.” He gave her a soft smile.

He led her out of the break room and through the studio halls. Cordelia tried to keep as close to him as she could while still observing the studio and noting the differences between this one and the one she was used to. It was pretty early, judging from the clocks, which explained the lack of other employees. Although she did see a few milling about, the man kept her out of their sight. She knew why he was doing it, he couldn’t have people finding out that she was from a different dimension, but it still hurt for some reason. As though she was doing something wrong. She was being silly. She knew that.

The man took her to what she assumed was his living area. He gestured for her to sit down on the couch, ducking into the kitchen.

“What type of tea do you like?” He asked.

“O-Oh, you don’t need to make tea.” She got up, lingering nervously in the doorway to the kitchen. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re a guest.” He didn’t even glance back at her, already getting out some teabags. “It would be rude of me not to give you something.”

“Well...Okay.” She didn’t particularly want to argue with him, so she went back and sat down on the couch, playing with her skirt again. She hadn’t had time to go home and change before falling asleep, so her clothes were still rather dirty. Her blouse still felt a little damp from sweat and there were ink stains on her sleeves and skirt.

It was a few minutes before the man returned with two cups of tea. He set one down in front of her before sitting on a chair nearby.

“I hope you don’t mind chamomile.” He said. “It was all I had.”

“No no, it’s fine.” She smiled, picking up the cup and inhaling deeply. “I like chamomile.”

“Oh, good.” He brightened. “Would you like some honey?”

“Yes, please.”

He got up once more to retrieve some honey for her. She thanked him quietly once he returned, stirring the honey into her tea. She was feeling much calmer now, which was probably the point.

“Thank you.” She said as she sipped at her tea. “The tea is very good.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied, holding his own cup in his lap. “I’m glad you like it.”

They lapsed into silence for a bit, just drinking their tea. Cordelia had never been all that good at talking to people she didn’t know. She was also extra nervous because she’d shown up in this man’s studio and she didn’t know how she’d gotten there. She was definitely trespassing and being a nuisance, two things she hated doing. She started to shift uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. She didn’t like sitting here like this, not saying anything. She looked back at the man. He was sipping at his tea, seemingly watching her out of the corner of his eye. He had such sad eyes. She couldn’t imagine what he’d been through to make his eyes so sad.

“You have sad eyes.” She suddenly blurted out. Immediately, she slapped her hand over her mouth, cursing her impulsivity. The man’s smile faded a bit but immediately popped back up.

“It’s just the pink glasses that make a contrast.” He laughed, tapping the glasses. She could tell he was deflecting though. Almost immediately, she reached out and touched his hand.

“It’s okay to be sad, you know,” She said, smiling gently. “I’m sad a lot too. You don’t have to bottle up your feelings.”

“I’m fine, Miss. No need for you to worry.” He quickly withdrew his hand, setting it in his lap. There was a change in his eyes. She could see his walls going up, his posture stiffening. He was withdrawing.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” She put her hands up. “I shouldn’t have overstepped your boundaries like that.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry.” He insisted, laughing nervously. “You must think I’m a terrible host.”

“But I overstepped your boundaries.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m being an awful host.”

The next few minutes were spent in a cycle of apologizing. Each of them was getting progressively more upset. Johan was nervous, not understanding why this girl was apologizing to him. Surely it was his fault. Cordelia was just plain upset. She had an ingrained need to be liked and to not upset people and she was certain she’d upset this man. The more she apologized, though, the more confused Johan became.

Finally, Cordelia stopped.

“Let’s, um, let’s start over.” She suggested, sticking out her hand. “My name is Cordelia Bell.” He fumbled for a moment, being that he was left-handed, but he managed to shake her hand.

“Joey Drew.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Drew.” She gave him a big smile. She’d already sort of figured out that this man was another Joey from the sign above the office and his voice. But still, it wouldn’t do to be impolite. He smiled back awkwardly.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, both unsure what to say or how to proceed with this situation.

“I should probably find a way home.” Cordelia finally said.

"I’d be happy to help in any way I can.” The other Joey collected the teacups, taking them to the kitchen before returning to her in the living room.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” She said.

“Alright.” The other Joey pulled out a strange machine she didn’t recognize, setting it on the table. “Tell me about your Joey.”

Cordelia inhaled through her teeth. “Well, um, he’s a little taller than me. More than a little taller really. He’s probably average height I guess. He’s got dark hair, about the same length as mine actually. He’s white and kind of skinny. He usually wears dress pants, a dress shirt, grey vest, red bowtie.” She paused for a moment, then her eyes lit up. “Oh! And he’s got a ton of freckles!”

The other Joey stared at her for a moment. He blinked. He took off his glasses.

“And you have no idea how you got here?”

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t.” She nodded. “I was running around all night before I fell asleep in the break room. We had a big deadline to meet and everyone was pretty stressed.”

“Did you see your Joey before you fell asleep?” He asked.

“Yeah. I dropped off some papers before I went to the break room.” She replied. “He was hunched over some book muttering to himself. I don’t think he really noticed me.” The other Joey shrugged a bit.

“Let him know JR would like a word.” He said before pressing some buttons on his machine. What appeared to be a door made of light appeared in front of them. Cordelia blinked, getting up and walking over to it. She’d never seen anything quite like this before.

“Um, thank you.” She turned back to the other Joey, curtseying awkwardly. “I’m sorry again for intruding. I’ll tell him what you said.” Then she stepped through. She found herself right outside Joey’s office. Her Joey’s office. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Miss Bell!” She looked up to see Grant coming toward her. “There you are! Mr. Lawrence has been looking everywhere for you!”

“Sorry, Mr. Cohen.” She said. “I’ll be right there.”

She was kept busy for the next few hours, darting around delivering papers and coffee. But she did eventually make her way back to her Joey’s office. He looked about as cranky as he had the last time she’d seen him. There were dark circles under his eyes and he had a large cup of coffee.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Drew.” She said brightly. Joey gave her a vague grunt of acknowledgment, taking a big swig of his coffee. Cordelia sighed, putting the papers from Sammy on his desk.

“I met a man this morning who had a message he wanted to me to give to you.”

“If it’s the man from the church group, tell him I think he knows where he can put his pamphlet,” Joey allowed himself a smug smile.

“No, he wasn’t from any church group,” Cordelia said. “He said to tell you JR would like a word.” Joey inhaled sharply, which led to a coughing fit as he’d inhaled some coffee.

“Mr. Drew! Are you alright?” Cordelia moved to go around the desk, but Joey put up a hand.

“I’m fine.” He gasped out between coughs. He’d gone paler than usual.

“Are you sure?” She asked, brow knitted with worry.

“I’m sure.” Joey nodded. “You should get back to work now. Sammy’s probably looking for you.”

“Yes, sir.” Cordelia collected the papers left out for Sammy and departed, still worried.

An hour later, the Joey Drew colloquially known as Freckle was stepping into the universe of Johan Ramirez.

“Do you want to talk?” Johan asked as Freckle entered the room.

“No, I don't want to talk.” Freckle snapped. “What the Hell did that mean?!” Johan looked Freckle over. He could immediately tell the other man hadn’t slept in a bit, judging from the dark circles under his eyes. He stood up, crossing the room and putting his hands on Freckle’s shoulders.

“You need to rest.” He said, gently guiding Freckle to the couch.

“I do not!” Freckle protested, sounding very much like a petulant child. He tried to fight it, but Johan did eventually get him to lay down and sleep for a bit. Johan went and prepared some hot chocolate, setting it out for when Freckle awoke before snuggling up next to the smaller man.

Once Freckle had awoken, Johan asked again if he wanted to talk. He wanted to know what was wrong.

“It’s...been a rough week,” Freckle admitted. “Bertie and I have been fighting like cats and dogs, Grant says the studio is hemorrhaging money.” He sighed heavily, shoulders shaking. “I thought...Maybe if I could open up some portals I could get some advice from other Joey’s. But...I guess I messed up since I was tired. I didn’t think Miss Bell would get caught up in it.” Johan, head resting on Freckle’s chest, was silent.

“My honest advice?” He finally said. “Stop. It’s hard, but...give in. It’s okay to admit defeat, and you can rise again at a better opportunity." Freckle also went quiet. For a moment, it seemed like he might consider Johan’s words. Then his face twisted and he stood up, pushing Johan off of him.

“You’re just like everyone else.” He snapped. “You don't think I can do it. Well I can! I'll show you! I'll show all of you!" He tried to storm out, but Johan grabbed him by the wrist.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you can do it,” he said. “I’m just saying you should take a break.”

“Let me go!” Freckle tried to pull away again. Johan pulled him closer, enfolding Freckle’s hand in his.

“Please, think about it.” His voice was soft and gentle. Slowly, Freckle’s anger began to ebb. He got very quiet, staring at Johan’s hand.

“I have to be able to do this.” He whispered. “I have to succeed.” His voice broke a little. He took a deep breath, willing the tears to go away. He couldn’t be weak. He had to be able to do this.

“I believe in you,” Johan said. “But you should take a breath and look at the big picture.” Freckle didn’t say anything for a long time, just staring at Johan’s hands.

“I don’t know how.” He’d never been good at looking at the big picture. Esther had always teased him about how single-minded he could be, never quite thinking through the consequences of his plans. All he ever thought about was the end goal.

Johan followed Freckle’s gaze down to his own hands, wondering if the other man was staring at the numerous scars crisscrossing the skin. He tapped a few with his free hand, saying, “These who it’s okay to start over. To take a break. To Change.”

“I think I’m in too deep.” Freckle replied, running his thumbs over Johan’s scars. Johan looked him up and down, sighing softly. He enfolded Freckle in a hug, gently patting his back.

“It’s okay.” He murmured. Freckle practically melted into Johan’s arms, letting out an instinctual sob. He clung to the taller man, taking deep breaths to will himself not to cry. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t.

It was a few minutes before he finally pulled away. He muttered some words of thanks to Johan and departed back to his own studio through a portal. Johan turned his gaze to someone that no one else could see, frowning a little. He sighed.

"He's not gonna listen, is he?"

He will. Eventually. A young woman’s voice replied. Only Johan could hear it at this point.

"In what, thirty years? When it's all done and over?" Johan went over to his couch, laying down with his legs hanging off the edge.

It's hard to change his mind. It's the way Joey's are

"Point taken."

But he will learn. There will be a happy ending

"Sure."

There will be. For him, at least. You, I have no control over

"Wonderful."

"Is there anything else I can help you with, your majesty?"

No, but thank you for your help. I hope you find your happy ending

He got quiet and turned to face the cushions of the couch, curling up.

Goodbye Johan

"...Au revoir." Then the presence was gone and he was alone.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #joey drew #cordelia bell #johan ramirez #freckle drew

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let-it-raines · 6 years ago

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Second in Command (Epilogue - Part 8)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: The love you guys show me for this story after all this time never ceases to amaze me. Thank you so much for it :D We start with a flashback that I really like! I hope you do too!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |

Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @ekr032-blog-blog @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @a-faekindagirl @mayquita @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @kristi555 @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma@alys07 @andiirivera

“No, I’m serious,” Emma laughs, stacking a chair up on the table while Killian’s throwing darts against the dartboard. Normally she’d yell at him and make him help her clean up, but she’s welcoming the distraction of having him several feet away from her. They need to stay several feet apart, and then she won’t do anything stupid. Like kiss him. That would definitely be stupid. “When I was learning how to ride a bike, I busted my ass so many times my dad bought me butt pads.” “What the bloody hell is a butt pad?”

“What does it sound like? It’s literally cushioning for your ass.”

“You know, darling,” Killian croons, looking over his shoulder at her and winking, “you have a fantastic ass. It’s probably a good thing it was protected.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes all the while she stacks up more chairs. And she definitely ignores that way her stomach feels, the butterflies that are always present when Killian’s near her fluttering around in there like there’s no tomorrow. God, he makes her feel ridiculous, light and giddy really, and she finds his weird innuendos charming.

Okay, so she really loves his innuendos. And she can give as good as she gets. Maybe do better even.

“Yeah, it’s too bad that no one slapped a helmet on you to protect that head of yours.”

“Why, Nolan? Are you saying that I have a pretty face that should be protected?”

“I’m saying I think some brain cells got knocked out along the way.”

Killian waggles his eyebrows, the insult not bothering him in the slightest, and goes back to throwing his darts. She can see the way his muscles move beneath his shirt, the tightness of the sleeves not helping at all, and her mind trails away from thoughts of the muscles he’s obvious hiding under his clothes and to the way his lips would feel against hers. It’s all she’s been able to think about for weeks now, and after she gave up pretending that she didn’t like him, that she couldn’t like him, her thoughts about him have gotten…detailed.

But she can’t be with him. It’s not an option. It’s never been an option. Yeah, they’re friends. That much she can’t deny, but who he is and who she is…those are things she can’t forget. And it’s only been a little over three years since Neal, and she swore that she wouldn’t seriously feel anything for any guy after that. Neal set the bar pretty low for a lot of reasons, and while she’s sure that there are better people out there than him…okay, while she knows that there are better people out there than him, he left a hell of a scar.

It doesn’t help that she knows that Killian is a better man. In every way possible.

But it won’t work, she reminds herself. Their lives are so different, their upbringings miles (countries) apart. It doesn’t matter how well they get along, how much he makes her laugh and forget about all of the awful things she feels about her life sometimes. None of that matters when she knows she can’t be the type of girl who he dates, when she knows that she could never live up to the scrutiny of the world and of his family.

But maybe for tonight, she doesn’t care.

It’s probably reckless, but she doesn’t care. She just wants to let go and feel how she feels about him without being scared.

Killian’s just finished throwing his last dart, his hands free, and she marches over to him with a new determination in her step, immediately grabbing onto the collar of his shirt and roughly pulling him toward her, standing on the tips of her toes so that she can fuse her lips and her body into his and kiss him.

She doesn’t know exactly what she imagined kissing Killian would be like – even though she sure as hell has imagined it in several different scenarios – but his lips are softer than she’s imagined, almost like he uses chapstick religiously, and they meld together with hers so perfectly that it takes her breath away. It must take his breath away too because he gasps into the kiss before his hands sink into her hair, gripping almost as tightly as she’s gripping his collar.

God, her hands might fall off.

This is perfect, and thinking it was just going to be for tonight was one of the most idiotic thoughts of her life.

She pulls back when she can no longer breathe, her lips slightly swollen and beard burn brushing across her skin all while she and Killian’s chests heave together, his heartbeat beating erratically just like hers. She’s about to say something, to explain herself, but then Killian gets an almost predatory look in his eyes and slams his lips back into hers, pushing her back so that she almost stumbles and falls.

Killian just goes for it, pulling her back into him while he sucks on her top lip. He can’t stop touching her, left hand running down her side, up under her shirt so that the warmth of his hand is covering her back, fingers dancing up her spine as his other hand makes its way back into her hair while a shiver runs down her spine with every tap of his fingers and movement of his lips. When she runs her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck and simultaneously runs her tongue against his bottom lip, biting down on it with her teeth, Killian moans in a way that causes desire to shoot straight to her core, every other logical thought disappearing while Killian backs her across the room and into the bar, her back hitting the hard wood.

She doesn’t care.

His tongue makes its way into her mouth, teasing the tip of her own. It’s wet and warm, and she can taste the beer he had earlier. Before she can stop herself, her hands slide into the small space between them, unbuttoning his shirt and running her hands across his collarbone and down the hair on his chest. She loves the hair on his chest. Now she can finally touch it.

And that’s when she hears it, hears the thing that clears her mind and brings her out of her cloud of lust.

That’s what this is, right? Lust.

Maybe it’s a bit more. It’s definitely more.

She pulls back before Killian does as the exaggerated cough continues. When she opens her eyes, she can see her dad staring at her from the hallway all the while Killian’s arousal pushes into her thigh.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This is not happening. Her dad did not just walk in on this. He did not. It has to be a dream. It has to be. But then blue eyes are looking into her eyes while the rest of his body stays still, and she knows that this is all real. He looks destroyed, heady, and she hates that this is all about to come crashing down around them.

“Killian,” her dad grits out, voice strained as he obviously tries to keep his composure, something she’s heard from him more times than she wishes she had, “I suggest you wish Emma goodnight and make your way home.”

It’s a blatant dismissal of Killian, and she doesn’t know what to do. So she does what she’s always done. She stiffens her body, moving her eyes away from Killian and refusing to make eye contact with him even though she can feel the power of his gaze still on her. She kind of hates herself right now, but she doesn’t know what else to do.

Killian obviously does, though, backing away from her, the loss of heat immediate, and he whispers, “goodnight, love,” before nodding to her dad and walking away, the door slamming shut behind him.

“Emma,” her dad scolds, stepping toward her while he rubs his hand up and down his face in frustration, “what the hell were you thinking?”

She huffs. She may still live with her parents, but she’s not a kid, hasn’t been for longer than she wishes were true. “That I’m twenty and don’t need your permission to kiss someone!”

“No, what were you thinking kissing Killian? He’s a nice guy, Emma. You know it. I know it. But he’s not someone who you can just mess around with. His life is not a normal life. He’s not just some guy you can date without consequences.”

“I know that,” she protests, sinking down on the ground. Her legs are shaky, her emotions rattled, and she doesn’t feel like having to stand and be yelled at for something that was making her happy. She was happy. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“Baby,” her dad soothes, moving to sit down next to her on the ground, his bones audibly aching with the movement, “you are capable of making your own decisions. You’re not a kid anymore who I can tell when to go to bed or that you need to brush your teeth, even though you and I both know you’ve been running the show since you were born. But I have seen you go through so much, have seen you have your heart broken in a way that no one should ever have to experience, so can you blame me that I’m concerned about this? Concerned about you? And Killian.”

“No, I can’t blame you. I…he makes me happy, and that terrifies me.” She twists her hands in her lap while she stretches out her legs, knocking her ankle into her dad’s calf. “I promised myself I would never feel again, that I would never let myself like someone, and I’ve completely gone and screwed that up.”

“Emma,” he dad sighs as soon as she starts choking back a sob, immediately reaching over to her dad and wrapping her arms around his waist while she sobs into his shoulder, letting the tears fall without restraint. When her dad starts rubbing up and down her back, whispering soothing words in her ear, it only makes it worse. She can’t breathe, can’t think. All she can do is cry.

Why the hell is she sobbing like this?

“Sweetheart,” her dad coos, continuing to rub his hand up and down her back, “shh, shh. It’s okay. You’re okay. There’s nothing to cry over. Everything is fine. You’re fine. Shh, shh. Everything is fine, Emma.”

“H-how can you…how can you say that? You just yelled at me. Just kicked Killian out of here and told me that I can’t be with him.” “I never said that. I just said that with Killian, you have to think about more than just how you feel. I wish that you could lead with your heart, my girl, but you have to think too. Killian is normal to us, but he’s not normal to the rest of the world. His entire life is viewable to the public. People follow him around and judge every move he makes. And as fantastic as I think you are, as fantastic as I know you are, people are not going to be kind to you with your past.”

“I wish it wasn’t this way. I wish I could just be with him if that’s what I want.” “You can,” he promises, leaning down and kissing her forehead while she tries to regulate her breathing and tries to calm her heart. “If you are prepared to deal with the consequences and the risks, you can be with him. You might get your heart broken in an even more spectacular fashion that before, but sometimes love is worth it, kid. Love is something you have to fight for. It’s not given to you. It’s not handed on some kind of platter. It’s so damn hard, Emma, but love, when it’s right, is one of the most spectacular things in the world.”

She gulps, not knowing what to say. Her dad has always been great at this, at knowing what to say to her when she feels like falling apart, even when he’s one of the reasons she feels like falling apart. She doesn’t…she doesn’t love Killian. There’s no way that she could, not when she’s been holding herself back from him. But the spark, the smallest of flames that could be an inferno, it’s there.

And she wants it to stay. And grow.

“I don’t love him, dad. I think I could, but I don’t know right now.”

“That’s the risk,” her dad tells her again, rubbing his arm up and down her shoulder before reaching up to wipe the tears from her face. “And baby, I don’t know if he’s worth the risk, but I know that you are.”

-/-

“Okay, but, like, realistically speaking, how the hell does Netflix have all of these movies and TV shows and yet I can’t find a damn thing to watch?”

“It’s one of the great mysteries in the world, Rubes,” she answers, taking a sip of the mango smoothie that she just finished making. “How are you still looking? I’ve been out of the room for fifteen minutes.”

“Because Abigail can’t decide on anything,” Ruby groans, throwing her head back against the couch while Emma adjusts herself in the recliner and Abigail rolls her eyes.

“That’s not true. I decided on The Good Place, but Ruby vetoed it.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“So have I,” Emma adds in.

“Well, what have you two not seen? I feel like I’m behind on everything, and you two have someone managed to see everything in existence.”

“In my defense, I haven’t worked in a month and a half. I’ve had a lot of time to sit on my ass.”

“In my defense, I just like watching TV.”

“And you didn’t catch up on shows, like, at all when you were in Scotland, Abi?” Emma asks, taking another sip and wondering how many smoothies she can drink in one day without going overboard.

Abigail scoffs, pulling her blanket up over her shoulders. “Darling, I have two kids under the age of five. The only time we were even watching TV, it was Peppa Pig. I wasn’t watching Stranger Things or Outlander. They’re not exactly kid friendly.”

“I personally think Outlander is extremely kid friendly. They can learn about sex in a very hot way instead of that boring, educational way.”

“Rubes.” “Ruby.”

“Ugh,” she groans, flopping further down on the couch and throwing a piece of popcorn over at Emma, “you guys are such moms. I need to hang out with Belle more. She doesn’t scold me over my dirty jokes.”

“Hey, I don’t scold you. I join in most of the time. And Belle doesn’t scold you because she’s too embarrassed by your jokes to say anything.” Emma laughs at the way Ruby’s nose scrunches up before she remembers what she wanted to ask Ruby about earlier. “Did you know that Belle and Will are dating?”

“Yes,” Ruby groans, or really cheers, her hands raised in the air. “I have been waiting for that to happen for my entire life.”

“Wait, who are Belle and Will?” Abigail asks, confusion painted across her face. Sometimes Emma forgets that Abigail hasn’t been around as long as Ruby has, that despite her being family, there are a lot of aspects of Emma’s life that she has no idea about.

“Will is the manager at my parents’ pub,” Emma explains, having to adjust herself again. She is so damn tired of being pregnant. Three more weeks, she reminds herself. Just three weeks. “He’s awesome, really funny, if a bit rude sometimes, but he’s a good friend.”

“Who got to know about Emma and Killian while I didn’t.” When Emma opens her mouth to protest, Ruby doesn’t let her, hurrying on with her own point. “And I’m totally not mad about that…anymore. I just feel like maybe I could have kept a better secret than Will.”

“I don’t even know Will, and I know that’s not true.”

“Touché, my girl. Touché.”

“So who’s Belle then?”

“Belle,” Ruby begins, the Netflix discussion obviously forgotten, “is my childhood friend. We met in primary, and I honestly think she’s just been too timid to tell me she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

“And her name is actually Belle? Like the Disney character?”

“Isabelle, actually, but she prefers Belle.” “Isn’t Isabelle the name of your assistant, Emma?

“Yep,” she shrugs, taking a final sip of her smoothie before putting it down on the end table next to the lamp. She really devoured that thing. “Definitely not the same person, though. I love Isabelle, but she’s always barking down my throat to keep moving when I’m working, and she doesn’t give me nearly as good of book recommendations as Belle.”

“True that,” Ruby agrees, even if she most definitely does not read as often as Belle or Emma. “If only she could recommend something for us to watch.”

And there’s the circling back to not being able to figure out what to watch. It takes a solid twenty minutes for them to decide on Stranger Things, if only because Abigail hasn’t seen the newest season and she and Ruby wouldn’t mind watching it again. Ruby turns off all of the lights in the room and closes the blinds, the only light stemming from the television and their phones.

Her phone buzzes in her lap, and she quietly picks it up, turning the brightness down while she looks at the text that was just sent.

Graham: What about this one?

Even though Ruby’s on the other side of the room, Emma is terrified that she can somehow see her phone and the engagement ring that Graham just sent her to approve. He and Killian went to lunch at a private club before meeting some jewelry designers to help design an engagement ring for Ruby, which Ruby absolutely knows nothing about.

Ruby’s engagement and the fact that Emma and Killian are having a boy may be to two best kept secrets in all of Great Britain right now…if you don’t include all of the people who know about those things.

But still well kept secrets.

Graham told she and Killian that he wanted to propose to Ruby a few weeks ago, and Killian had offered to help him with the ring, giving him all of these details about when he designed Emma’s ring that she knew nothing about. She looks down at her ring then, admiring the way it still sparkles in the dimness off the room. She’s constantly anxious that her hands are going to swell enough that her engagement ring and wedding band won’t fit. She had to take off her sapphire ring, which is one of her most prized possessions, because it was starting to feel a little tight. She felt as if she was either going to get it stuck on her hand or take it off and lose it.

She’s done extensive research on pregnancy brain and whether or not it’s a real thing (she began to feel crazy when she started forgetting simple things and needed some kind of reassurance), and while a lot of people say it’s not, she’s decided that it is. And her pregnancy brain is going to make her lose one of her favorite pieces of jewelry that she’s worn almost daily for half a decade.

And it means a hell of a lot more than just being a pretty piece of jewelry on her finger.

So now she’s answering texts about the engagement ring her best friend is going to wear (Or at least she hopes that she’ll wear. Ruby has always been a bit of a wildcard, so while it would shock her if she said no, it wouldn’t actually be the most surprising thing in the world) all while Ruby stuffs her face with popcorn.

Emma: Not that one. It’s gorgeous, but you of all people know that Ruby doesn’t like traditional things.

Graham Humbert: So no diamonds?

Emma: I think her name should be a pretty big hint to what kind of ring she likes. She’s really taken it to heart.

She puts her phone down only for it to buzz incessantly a few minutes later, several pictures of ruby rings popping up on her screen, her husband’s face in the background as he holds all of them up with a cheeky grin. She knows the ring the moment she sees it, putting away her own taste and thinking about what Ruby would like.

Emma: Ring number three is your winner, my friend.

Graham Humbert: Yeah?

Emma: Absolutely! She’s going to love it almost as much as she loves you.

Graham Humbert: I would bloody well hope so, or else I’ve been stuck with Killian for hours for absolutely nothing.

Emma: If you don’t feed him regularly, he gets cranky. Just beware of that.

“It is girls’ day, Ems,” Ruby teases, stretching out her foot and tapping Emma’s toes. “You are not supposed to talking to Killian.”

“Fine,” she sighs, hoping that the blush on her cheeks isn’t visible in the darkness. “I’ll just leave him dangling on that cliff waiting for help to show up.” “As you should.”

Abigail has to leave around four, citing that she doesn’t want her nanny to have the kids too much longer, and once she leaves, Ruby grabs the remote and changes the TV to some trashy reality show. She thinks it’s one of the Real Housewives shows, but she’s honestly not sure which city it is. Beverly Hills, maybe? Orange County? Chicago? Is there a Chicago now? She’s not sure.

But Ruby is a fan of American reality TV (don’t get her started on the entire Bachelor franchise because my goodness has she seen all of those), and by extension, Emma kind of is too. She’s honestly a little surprised Ruby hasn’t applied to be on one of the shows, but honestly, as bold as she is, Emma doesn’t think Ruby’s the type of person to expose her entire life on television.

Weirdly enough, Emma is the one of the two of them who has her life shown on television.

Just as a fight is beginning on the screen, Andy slams himself down on her bladder, and she hurriedly gets up from the recliner and makes her way to the bathroom that’s down the hall. She’s pretty sure she’s walked a mile just moving back and forth between the living room and the bathroom today. It’s getting a little ridiculous.

Three. More. Weeks.

When she comes back, rubbing her hand up and down the small of her back, Ruby is staring at her with her lips parted and her eyes wide. Shit. She hopes she didn’t go through her phone.

“What?”

“You are waddling, Ems.”

“I am not waddling. I refuse to waddle.”

“You’re not doing a very good job because you are waddling. Like a penguin.”

She groans, shutting her eyes for a moment before waddling (apparently) over to the couch and plopping down next to Ruby. “I have a giant human inside of me that I’m pretty sure is going to exit my body and already be the size of his dad. And I feel like a very unattractive whale. I think it’s payback for the time I laughed at Alex calling Abigail a whale when she was pregnant. That was so not nice of me.”

“Yeah, it’s definitely karma.”

“Hush.”

Ruby reaches over and places her hand over Emma’s stomach, which is not something she lets most people do. It’s weird for people to just touch her stomach. Like, really weird. But Ruby isn’t most people, so she she’s allowed to. “You’re not a whale, Ems. You’re the tiniest pregnant woman I’ve ever seen, and you are just as stunning as ever.”

She moves her hand and squeezes Ruby’s palm, holding it there. “Thanks. I’m just at the point where I want him to be here, and so everything is pretty much miserable. And Killian helps so much, is so good, but sometimes I think he is two seconds away from moving in with Liam and Abigail.”

“You think Killian, president of Emma’s The Best Person In The Entire World And No One Else Could Ever Compare fan club, wants to do something that’s not spending time with you? That’s a funny joke.”

She blushes. “Are you a member of this club?”

“No, I think I’m much better than you, so just to stay truthful, I can’t be a member of the club.”

“You’re a bad best friend.”

“Um, no, I am the best best friend.” She leans down and rubs Emma’s stomach. “And the best aunt. Abigail has nothing on me.”

“Apparently no one does.”

The door sounds then, the beep indicating it’s been opened going off, and Indy immediately gets up to go investigate, coming back a minute later with Killian, who’s holding several shopping bags that he places on the floor. What the hell did he even buy? Because she knows it can’t be anything else for Andy.

It’s definitely something for Andy.

“Hello, darling,” Killian greets, walking up behind her and cupping her cheeks so he can slide his lips over hers in a gentle kiss. He tastes like peppermint. He must have been chewing gum. “Is Ruby driving you crazy?”

“Bonkers.”

“Nice to see you too, baby daddy.”

“Oh God,” Killian groans, shaking his head back and forth before propping himself up on the back of the couch over where Ruby’s sitting. “I can’t believe you’re still calling me that.”

“Only because I know you hate it.”

“Because you are not having a baby, and if you were, I am not its daddy.”’

“That’s what you think,” Ruby teases, walking her fingers up Killian’s forearm while Emma tries to stifle her laugh. “I think we could have a torrent affair one day.”

“You are flirting with a pregnant woman’s husband, Ruby. Do you want to get hurt?”

“Good point, baby daddy,” Ruby sighs, snatching her hand away and settling it in her lap. “Sorry, Ems.”

She waves Ruby away, the thought that Ruby’s actually flirting with Killian ridiculous. There was an incident a few weeks ago where a woman she didn’t know was actually flirting with Killian, and while stuff like that doesn’t usually bother her, it bothered her that day. She’s chalking it up to the pregnancy, and she doesn’t even care. She’s three weeks away from giving birth. She can feel a little crazy without any shame.

“You know I don’t care. What’d you buy, babe?”

“Oh, I got some new shirts for me and some new running shorts. And I found a couple things for Andy too.”

“You have a problem.”

“I do, and I don’t care.”

“Did you really just spend all day shopping for clothes for yourself? I thought you did everything online.”

“Uh,” Killian begins, reaching up to scratch behind his ear while his cheeks tint red, “I’m peculiar about how my shirts fit my arms. And I just happened to see everything else while I was there.”

Ruby slants her eyes, almost like she suspects something, but there’s no way she could no. Absolutely none.

“You two are weird. I’m glad you have each other.” She looks down at her phone then, scrolling through something. “I’m going to leave you guys and go meet Graham and Granny for dinner, okay?”

“Yeah, Rubes, go have fun.”

“I will.” Ruby gets up from the couch and leans over to wrap her arms around Emma’s shoulders while Emma does the same to her. “Bye, Ems. Don’t have this baby when I’m not around, got it?”

“Got it.”

After Ruby’s left, she makes her way upstairs – without waddling thank you very much – and helps Killian put away all of his purchases while he fills her in on his day with Graham and talks about their meeting with the jeweler. She has no idea when the ring will be ready or when Graham plans on proposing, but she wants a video of Ruby’s reaction. She feels like that would be priceless.

She kind of wants a picture of Granny’s reaction too. That would be something else.

As she empties out bags, checking to make sure Killian tried these clothes on first because the arm thing was totally a lie, she cuts the tags off of them and hangs them up. She’s been making a conscious effort to keep the apartment as clean as she possibly can. Andy could literally come any day now without it being too worrisome, and she doesn’t want everything to be all over the place. Neither does Killian because he is definitely worse than she is. He packed her hospital bag two weeks ago when she kept insisting that they had time, and now it’s been sitting on the floor next to their bedroom door ever since.

He’s also installed and reinstalled the car seat about ten times. It’s getting a little ridiculous, but hey, the man knows how to install a car seat. If he starts practicing changing diapers on a stuffed animal or, goodness gracious, Lizzie like he did a few weeks ago, she might have him admitted…somewhere.

She’s not sure what kind of places take expectant fathers, but she’s sure there’s somewhere. At least he’ll be all ready to go while her vagina is falling out of her body.

That’s a gross thought.

“This is cute,” she compliments as she pulls a bear onesie out of a bag. “Is this for winter?”

“Aye, they had a bunch of the winter clothes on sale, so I bought all of the neutral things I could find in a few sizes since we don’t know how big he’ll be.”

“Look at you,” she teases, stepping over to him and pressing up on her toes so she can quickly slide her lips over his, ignoring the giant barrier in between them. “Thrifty and smart.”

“You know me. I’m basically the best you can get.”

“And you ruined it,” she laughs, patting his stomach and feeling his muscles twitch before moving back to going through Andy’s new stuff, even if she knows she should be unpacking it in the nursery. “Hey, your birthday is coming up, babe. What do you want to do?”

“I was thinking we’d stay home, love. We can do just the two of us. I don’t want you to have to worry about having everyone over.” “Well, I don’t do anything anyways. That’s mostly you.”

“Aye, I know, but it’s still having people over and not relaxing on the couch. I don’t need something big. You know I like to keep it simple.”

“You don’t need to put what you want on hold just because of me.” “Hey,” Killian soothes, stepping over to her and cupping her face, his wedding ring cold against her cheek, “you’re not making me put anything on hold. I, or we, can do breakfast with my family, here or at someone else’s, and then you and I can just spend the day together.” He waggles his eyebrows, his blue eyes lighting up in a way that makes her stomach flip. “And you and I can devour an entire cake. Just us.”

“You really know the way to a woman’s heart.”

“I’ve had years to practice, my love.” He dips his head to kiss her again, purposefully rubbing his scruff into her chin while his hands drop from her face to run along her sides, landing on her stomach where Andy is moving around. “Our boy is excited about the cake, I think.”

“Obviously. Who doesn’t love cake?”

-/-

“Killian, fuck me.”

“Well, happy birthday to me.”

She rolls her eyes, taking a few steps over to his desk and propping herself up on the edge while Killian rolls his chair back to accommodate her. “Happy birthday, my love,” she sighs, smiling down at him with all of the gentleness she can muster. “If you hadn’t gotten out of bed at, like, four this morning, I’m sure I would have told you earlier.”

His hand finds her knee, the pads of his fingers running across her skin making a shiver run down her spine and her eyes flutter closed. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You had finally fallen asleep, and I felt like it would be cruel.”

“It would have been. But that doesn’t explain why you were up.”

“Wanted to finish some work,” he shrugs. “I had a few last things to square away.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very good birthday.”

“Oh no, darling. I love paperwork. It really gets me going. Even more so than my wife walking into the room and telling me to fuck her.”

“Hush,” she laughs, patting his hand before moving around. This desk is much more uncomfortable than it used to be. Maybe it’s just the weight that’s tugging her forward. “I am ready to give birth. Like, really ready. I don’t even care about all of the ways that I’m terrified of it.”

“So what I’m hearing is that you want me to fuck you to induce labor.”

“Well, you fucking me is what got us here in the first place.”

Killian chuckles underneath his breath while his head shakes back and forth. She’s kind of miserable, but she’s glad that she can still make him laugh. She’s glad that she can still make herself laugh. She’s damn hilarious. Like, all of the time. She could have been a comedian.

Okay, maybe not a comedian. That may be pushing it a little bit.

“This is true,” Killian admits, standing from his chair and cupping her cheeks with his hands before dipping his head and capturing her lips with a kiss that makes her close her eyes and revel in something besides being pregnant for a moment. “I will make love to you whenever you want. Or fuck you however you prefer it.”

“You are a kind soul.”

“Aren’t I?” He kisses her forehead before pulling away. “Let’s go upstairs. I imagine this desk cannot be the slightest bit comfortable.

“Reading. My. Mind.”

Later she’s stretched out in bed, not wearing any pants because why the hell would she, and all she can think about is how she should have given birth by now. Logically, she knows that thirty minutes after trying to induce labor through sex isn’t exactly giving anything time, but she’s kind of desperate. And she’s not even at her due date.

What if he’s late?

Like, seriously late. What if she’s pregnant for longer than she’s supposed to be pregnant? They’ll have to induce and that’s fine, but she doesn’t want to be pregnant for any longer than she has to be. It hasn’t been all bad, not really. Actually, she thinks she’s liked a lot of it. She likes having her baby inside of her, having him be wherever she is and feeling him move. She wants to meet him, but this irrational part of her worries about him not being inside of her.

Yeah, so maybe she’s losing it a little bit. She’s never experienced anything like this, but her mom and Abigail keep assuring her that it’s perfectly okay to feel that way.

Pregnancy is weird.

That’s basically what she’s figured out over the past nine months. First, you’re sick, then you’re horny, and then you use your stomach as a resting place for your plate of food.

It’s a wild ride.

“We have to go in thirty minutes, love,” Killian tells her, coming out of the bathroom dressed in jeans and a button down, rolling up his sleeves as he walks. He needs to dry his hair or it’s going to fall strangely on his head. She’s really glad she didn’t say that out loud. “So that means you have to get dressed.”

“I feel like it’s totally acceptable to go in my underwear.”

“I mean, I personally love when you walk around in your underwear, but I do feel like we need to wear clothes. Just for two or three hours. Then I promise you don’t have to wear anything else for the rest of the day.”

She groans, throwing her arm over her eyes. “Go get me the long blue dress. The stretchy one, not the – ”

“I know the one, darling.”

Begrudgingly, she gets out of bed and does get dressed, but at this point she doesn’t care how the rest of her looks, pulling her hair up into a ponytail and simply washing her face in an attempt to wake up. She really didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and as much as she wasn’t the one who was moving and doing the work earlier, sex really wore her out.

She misses the bursts of energy she used to get. But today is Killian’s birthday, and she’s going to enjoy it for him. And he did promise her cake. Like, a lot of cake.

She means to give him his presents before they leave, but it slips her mind and they’re running late so that gets pushed back until after breakfast with his family. Oh shoot, should they have invited her parents to this? They probably should have invited her parents, but they did come over last night so it’s probably fine.

It’s all definitely fine.

How is everything so hot all of the time?

“Happy birthday, baby,” Allison greets when they walk into the dining room at Buckingham, the table set for the family while Alex and Lizzie literally chase each other around in circles.

“Thanks, Mum,” Killian says as his cheeks blush the slightest bit before he wraps his arms around his mom while she follows behind him, already regretting that she didn’t just wear her sandals instead of these flats.

“And my darling Emma,” Allison sighs, moving from Killian and wrapping her arms around her as much as she can. She swears her stomach has ballooned in the past week. Like, to the point where hugging people is pretty much impossible. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m excited for this breakfast,” she answers honestly, pulling back from Allison and smiling at her. “And that I’m excited for the cake. Basically, I just like all of the food.” “Me too. You look beautiful, dear.” “Thanks,” she smiles, having to force it the smallest bit. She really does want the food, but she also wants to give birth. Like, a lot. And she’s still waiting for the sex from this morning to induce labor. And the walking. And hell, she might stuff her face with spicy food. Do they have spicy food here? “And thank you for having us here so we didn’t have to do it at home.” “Well, you’re having a baby any day now, so we really don’t need to invade your home. I’m sure we’ll be bothering you enough so we can see our sweet little man all of the time.”

She only cringes the slightest bit at that. She loves Allison, loves spending time with her, and as much as she knows they’re going to want the help, she doesn’t exactly like the sound of having her mother-in-law at her house all of the time. She doesn’t even want her own mom there all of the time. Sometimes, yes. Just not all of the time.

Maybe when she wants to nap. Or when she has no idea what to do.

“Of course. But this really is the sweetest. I feel like Killian’s birthday is always falling at unfortunate times.”

“Well, he may be older now, but he’s still my baby. I do like to celebrate him.”

“And I do so deserve to be celebrated,” Killian laughs, walking over to them with Lizzie on his hip while her fingers trace the white lines on his shirt. “I mean, who does more in this family than me?”

She rolls her eyes at his teasing, shaking her head back and forth all the while he smiles. He’s ridiculous, and she loves him even if she gets upset with him sometimes over the stupidest things. Last week she was upset that his shirt wasn’t buttoned all the way. Yeah, she can’t explain that one either.

But the breakfast is nice, all of Killian’s family telling stories about him throughout the years. She knows most of them now, has been around for a lot of them, but she still likes to hear about all of the times where a young Killian rolled around in the dirt outside in an attempt to get out of having to wear a suit. It never worked. He’d always have to take a bath and get clean before getting dressed, but she appreciates his ingenuity.

Rolling the suit around in the dirt probably would have worked better, and when she suggests that, Killian just rolls his eyes and tells her that he knows that now. But six-year-old him wasn’t as brilliant as he is now.

Sometimes his head can be as inflated as the balloon that Alex gave him.

Andy is absolutely doing gymnastics in her stomach the entire time they’re sitting down to eat, and she can see his movements through the material of her dress. He’s also kicking her bladder, as always, and she has to take several deep breaths to figure out how to breathe normally. Killian’s hand finds her stomach while Liam is rehashing a story from when they were all in Scotland last month, but she can’t pay any attention to Liam while Killian’s hand gently moves over her stomach, applying just enough pressure that Andy’s movements focus on where Killian’s hand is.

It’s a relief in every way possible, and she’s not sure how he knew to do that but she honestly doesn’t care.

“He’s running that marathon again, love.”

“Hmm,” she hums, leaning back in her chair as much as she can, “or playing tennis.”

“Football maybe.”

“Whatever he’s doing, it’s driving me crazy. I think I’m going to go sit on the sofa. It’s more comfortable.” “Whatever makes you comfortable.” He leans over to brush a kiss against her cheek before she gets up and makes her way over to the sofa that’s sitting in the corner of the room. she’s pretty sure it’s some kind of antique that she shouldn’t be sitting on, but whenever she’s here, she really has no idea what’s safe to sit on and what’s not.

They should really make signs or something.

She’s only been sitting back down for a few minutes before Alex runs toward her, Lizzie following just behind him, a look of determination on her face as she tries to catch up with her brother. Maybe one day, Lizzie, but Alex has got legs that are far too long for her to catch him just yet.

“Emmy,” Alex huffs, scrambling up next to her on the couch while Lizzie finally reaches her, moving to sit on the other side and immediately reaching for Emma’s phone. She unlocks it, opening up the drawing app that Lizzie likes to use, and hands it to her so she can play.

“Yeah, kid?”

“Why isn’t your baby here yet? Mummy said he was supposed to get here soon.”

That’s the question, isn’t it? At least she isn’t the only one who can’t wait.

“He will be here soon, Alex,” she promises, brushing his curls off of his forehead while Lizzie continues to play a game on Emma’s phone. “He was letting Killian have his birthday first.”

“Why can’t they share?”

“Because I said so,” she laughs, not really having another answer. She wants this baby out more than anyone else. And she was fully prepared for Killian and Andy to share a birthday this morning. “But it’ll be like you and me having birthdays so close. How old are you turning this year anyways?”

“Five!” He holds out his hand, showing off all of his fingers while he gives her his biggest smile. “And Lizzie is only gonna be three.”

“How old is Killian?”

Alex has to think about it, tapping his finger against his chin in a move that’s so Killian it almost weirds her out. They definitely share genetics. Or have spent far too much time with each other. Probably both. “Old. Like daddy.”

“Hey,” Liam and Killian yell at the same time, similar looks of offense crossing both of their faces while everyone else in the room can’t help but laugh.

“As one of three people in this room under the age of thirty,” she laughs, genuinely smiling at Killian even though she feels a bit like death right now, “I have to agree with Alex. That’s your age, my love. It’s not thirty-two. It’s old.”

She holds up her hand for Alex to high five, doing the same with Lizzie who’s suddenly gotten bored with the game she was playing. She doesn’t blame her. She’s a toddler at a meal with adults who aren’t running around chasing her. Things can’t be too entertaining. But Lizzie does like to entertain herself and keep to herself, only breaking out of her shell occasionally. She hasn’t seen two siblings that different since…well, since the old men bickering in the corner.

Maybe Andy will be a calm one, but she’s kind of doubting it. She thinks Lizzie is going to keep that particular title for awhile. But she loves her Lizzie girl and will sit with her on the couch while they watch Peppa any day of the week. Almost as if she knows that Emma is thinking about her, she crawls up and wraps her arms around her neck, squeezing a bit too tight before resting her head against her cheek.

“Hey, baby,” she soothes, rubbing her hand up and down Lizzie’s back. “I like your dress.” “Thank you,” she whispers into her skin, her voice as quiet as ever before she unlatches herself from Emma and crawls off the couch, running across the room to Abigail, clinging onto her leg until Abigail lifts her up onto her hip.

“Come on baby,” Alex speaks to her stomach, pressing his face into her belly, “you need to come out. I want to play with you.”

“Oh buddy,” Killian laughs, walking over to the two of them and pulling Alex away from her, his long limbs flailing in the air until Killian sits down and settles Alex in his lap, “I think we’re just going to have to wait a little bit. The baby isn’t ready to come out to play yet.”

“He’s been in there for my entire life. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Me either, Alex. Me either.”

-/-

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes, I do,” she says, stretching out on the couch and leaning over to grab her glass of water, needing, like, a gallon of it until she feels better. “I promise you that I do. I can’t sleep. I have to pee all of the time. My back hurts. I can barely breathe. I am sweaty all of the time. I literally cannot stop farting, which is the absolute worst. I sound like the possible side effects of every commercial for medicine. Also, why the hell are they advertising medicine on TV and telling you to talk to your doctor about it? I think the doctor knows what medicines to prescribe.”

“You know, I’ve never thought about that, but it’s true.”

“Right? It doesn’t make any sense. I mean – ” She stops in the middle of her sentence to look at Killian who has got the cheekiest smile on his face, the lines around his eyes that she loves so much as obvious as they have ever been. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so easily distracted. It’s like I’m holding a shiny object in your face or something.”

“The moment this baby is out of me I am kicking your ass.”

“I look forward to it.”

She groans, taking a long sip of her water before placing it on the side table and getting up from the couch, needing to move around. She is two days past her due date, and as much as she knows that the due date is just an estimate, she really wishes that September twentieth had been the day. But it’s the twenty-second now, and every hour is like some kind of weird ticking clock.

Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

“Why don’t we go for a walk, darling?” Killian suggests, grabbing onto her hands and running his fingers over her knuckles. “You don’t have to change clothes. We’ll go out in our pajamas. Just maybe change into some sneakers.” “This sounds like a horrible idea.”

“No, my love, it is a brilliant idea. I’ll even put your shoes on for you.”

“My hero,” she laughs, sitting back down on the couch while Killian goes to grab her shoes from the other room, coming back with her sneakers and slipping them onto her feet. She so could have done that herself. Maybe. It might have been difficult.

“I try.”

So they walk out the front door and into their shared garden area while still in their pajamas and sneakers, Indy running ahead of them. They probably should have put her on her leash, but there’s no way for her to get out of here unless someone left a gate open. It’s not like she ever strays too far anyways. Indy likes to herd she and Killian together. It’s just in her nature, but it doesn’t make Emma laugh any less when she circles around them.

She knows they’re moving slower than they usually do, that it’s like the slowest of paces they can manage, but it’s pretty much all she can do. It helps her that Killian doesn’t seem to mind, lacing together their fingers and lightly swinging their hands back and forth as they pass by the pond and playground. She’s surprised none of the kids are out playing. It’s a nice day out, warmer than usual, and school’s been out for a few hours. But it doesn’t matter, and she kind of likes the unusual silence of this place, the only sounds coming from her shoes crunching on the rocky pavement and the slight breeze whistling through the air.

Killian was right. This is helping to distract her, to make her feel better, and they should have done this earlier. Everyone should go for walks at the end of September while wearing pajama pants with snowmen on them. It’s very therapeutic.

All of the sudden her gaze moves toward the swing set, the one that she sees nearly every day. Nothing is different about it, everything exactly the same, but as clear as day, she can remember the day Killian went to confront Liam about their relationship, to talk about how wrong it is for them to be adversaries when they should be brothers, friends. Liam had said so many wrong things that day, had probably made the situation even worse, but Killian didn’t let him break him. He fought for their relationship, just like he fought for his relationship with her.

Like she fought for them too.

A sob gets stuck in her throat. It’s unexpected, unwarranted, but it’s there. She can’t stop it. She can’t wish it away. She simply lets herself heave, lets herself cry as she stops she and Killian in their tracks, their walk halting. She knows that Killian must be looking at her with concern, wondering why the hell she just started sobbing and can’t stop, her vision completely blurry and her limbs shaking. She finds the nearest bench, wanting to make it over to the swings but not having the energy to do that while she’s having some kind of manic episode.

She also just can’t see well through the tears.

This is…her life is absolutely everything she never dreamed it could be. She grew up wanting to be like her parents, wanting to have a love like that, wanting to be happy, only for everything to be twisted, for love to seem dark and repulsive. Love was tainted for her, and she didn’t think she’d ever see it otherwise.

But she is worth more than the opinion and the treatment of a man who saw her as an object and an excuse. She’s worth more than the petty comments of the people who judged her, who made her feel dirty back when she was a teenager and the people who make her feel dirty right now. She’s worth more than all of that.

She always has been.

And words can’t express how thankful she is for the rain that brought Killian into the pub, for her mother’s years of nagging about how they can’t mess the material of the booths up with water. She might not have talked to him otherwise.

She can’t imagine a life without him in it.

He’s the right balance of everything she needs in her life. He pushes when she needs to be pushed, and when she tells him to take a step back to let her handle things on her own, he listens. At least most of the time. He knows when to comfort her with his words and his touch, and he knows when she needs time to wallow by herself. He can make her laugh even when all she wants to do is punch a wall. And there is literally no one more supportive of her hopes and dreams than Killian.

He helped her to see that love doesn’t have to be tainted, that it doesn’t have to be bad. It’s not easy, but there’s a difference in love being hard and love being bad for you.

He also helped her realize that loving someone doesn’t mean that you’re taking away your own identity. It simply means that the person you love also becomes a part of you, a part of who you are on top of everything that’s already there. Realizing that meant the absolute world to her.

Andy kicks in her stomach all the while Killian’s rubbing up and down her back, whispering words she can’t hear, not while her thoughts are running wild like this. She hasn’t always known for sure that she wanted to be a mom, but she’s known for the past few years, has been absolutely sure of it, has wanted it so damn badly that it hurt sometimes. She loves this kid like nothing else, and she hasn’t even met him yet. She’s really hoping he comes soon.

Like, today would be nice.

She wishes she could describe, could make her thoughts coherent, how happy she is in her life. She feels like all she’s done is complain about how uncomfortable being pregnant is these past few days, and while it is, she’s also glad to be pregnant. Thankful, really. She’s thankful that she found the love of her life in Killian, and she’s thankful that their love has brought them Andy, has brought her Andy.

“You know,” she begins, her voice shaking the slightest bit while Killian’s hand stills on her back, likely surprised that she’s speaking. She has absolutely no idea how long she’s been crying, but her face feels swollen and splotchy. Puffy. Her entire body is puffy. “My dad said something to me once. I wish I could remember the exact words but…”

“Go on, love,” he encourages, the blue of his eyes coming back into sight while her vision clears.

“It was…” she sniffles wiping her eyes to give herself a moment, “…it was something about how when you find the right person, how all of the shitty stuff is worth it, you know? And I’m sure my dad was more eloquent than I’m being, but I just – I can’t stop thinking about how thankful I am that I found you. Or that you found me technically. That we found each other. And that you’re the person I get to go through the shitty stuff with.”

Killian chuckles beside her, something deep and low, and she leans into him, letting him support her weight all the while his lips press into her forehead, lingering a bit longer than usual. “And the good things too, darling?”

“I mean, obviously. I just mean that we’ve put up a good fight to get here, you know? To be a family.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” he promises, tugging her even closer and resting his chin against her forehead. “I would do it all over again. You are the most incredible woman, the most incredible friend, and you’re right. I’m so glad I get to go through the shitty stuff with you.”

“And the good things too.” “Aye,” he confirms, turning on the bench so that he can slide his lips overs hers in a movement and a motion of which she’ll never tire . “I love you, Emma.” “I love you too.”

“So was all this crying just because you’re overwhelmed with how much you love me?” “I know you’re teasing, but yeah, that’s the gist of it.” She sighs, leaning back against the bench again and rubbing her hand over her belly. “I really have to pee now.”

-/-

That night after taking a shower and twisting her damp hair into a braid, she crawls into bed, practically groaning with how comfortable the mattress is and how nice it is to rest her feet. Killian quickly follows, doing his usual routine of kissing her and then scooting down the bed to kiss her belly. Sometimes she finds it a bit ridiculous, but honestly, it’s sweet. She knows a lot of men think that they get some kind of free pass when it comes to having a kid, that they expect their wives to do all the work, and while yeah, there’s a disproportionate amount of pressure and responsibility on the woman, it doesn’t mean that she should have to be alone.

No one should ever have to be alone while going through this.

But she’s got one of the good ones, and it makes her smile every time she thinks about it.

Through the shitty and through the good.

“Goodnight, my little love,” Killian whispers, pressing his cheek against her stomach. “You’re giving Mummy a rough time of it lately, and it’d be nice if you’d like to show up soon. I’ve got a bet going that you’re going to look like me.”

“Who do you have this bet with?”

“Myself. I just figured there’s no way he can’t be a handsome lad.”

“That’s a good point, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to look like you.” Killian’s face scrunches up while she laughs, not able to contain herself, and he quickly leans up to brush his lips overs hers before giving her enough space to turn on her side and get comfortable. It usually takes awhile, but tonight is oddly pleasant, calm. She appreciates it.

“G’night, love. I hope you actually sleep.”

“Thanks,” she sighs, knowing she probably won’t. “Love you.”

“And I you.”

But she does fall asleep, rather quickly in fact, and when she wakes it’s to a pain in her stomach and her hips that she knows the moment she feels it, the moment her body literally contracts in on herself. It’s the first big contraction she felt, so she knows that she has time. She knows that she’s not about to give birth right this moment, but the adrenaline starts to run through her, starts to make her face heat and her heart race.

She’s ready. She wants this. And she doesn’t want to stay in bed anymore.

Carefully, she slides off the mattress, moving Killian’s hand off of her stomach and slipping her feet into her slippers (yes, she does wear slippers now) before making her way to the bathroom, wondering when the next contraction is going to be. Since she doesn’t know, she turns on the water in the sink and washes her face before brushing her teeth. She does every bit of her morning routine even though it’s literally a quarter before three in the morning, and by the time she’s finished, having dressed herself in leggings and a sweater, her hair braided again so it’s completely out of her face, she’s ready to go. Even if she’s just going to be sitting in the hospital room, she’s ready to be there.

She’s ready.

So she sits down on the edge of the bed, tapping Killian’s shoulder until his eyes open wide, quickly blinking.

“W-what? Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I think…I think we need to go to the hospital.”

#second in command #cs ff #cs fic

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