#well mom did the strawberries and helped with the other stuff but. team effort ok

[naomiknight-17]

Was so excited for our Pancake Tuesday dinner i had a couple bites before I even took a bragging pic to show y'all

[stillthewordgirl]

CaptainCanary fic: With Eyes Wide Open (ch. 3 of ?)

In a world where Rip Hunter never formed the Legends, Leonard Snart is trying to mend his ways and work with Team Flash, though sometimes it's easier than others. Meanwhile, Sara Lance is gradually dealing with the blood lust left behind by the Pit and trying to get used to being a hero again herself. When they encounter each other one day in Central City, it seems like a match that just might be meant to be.

*

Note: This is an accidental pregnancy fic, one in which both contributors to said pregnancy decide to continue their relationship and do their best with it. If you don't like such things, be warned.

*

Ch. 3: OK. Now...the stuff pertinent to the overall plot starts hitting us.

Early pregnancy. Angst. Stress. Talk of options. You've been warned. Remember, however, that it IS me. ;) And there will be some resolution at the end of this chapter.

Many thanks to Pir8grl!

Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

*

About five weeks later

It starts with the coffee.

Sara just doesn’t want any one morning. That’s a bit unusual, but she’d slept well the night before, and she’s not so caffeine-addicted that she’ll get a headache by skipping a day. So, she does. Then another.

And another.

And then it seems there’s always something going on, and she just doesn’t start that particular morning tradition again. It’s not so drastic that Leonard notices, either—although Sara winds up spending so much of her time with him in Central City than they might as well be officially living together, neither of them is one for lazy mornings.

At least, not unless those lazy mornings are spent in bed. And not sleeping.

After an uncertain amount of time, she notices that on those mornings Leonard does make coffee—he has a single-cup maker—it just plain smells…off. Foul. Stomach-turning. She mentions it once and he gives it a sniff, shrugging and dumping it out and muttering something about cleaning the coffee maker. And Sara forgets again.

Then Sara sets foot in CC Jitters one morning on her way over to STAR Labs, and she nearly has to clap her hand over her mouth and run back out as the mingled strong scents of coffee, breakfast foods, and other things turn her stomach. But she’d promised Iris and Caitlin coffee this morning, and damn it, she’ll keep that promise.

“When the hell did Jitters change their house coffee blend?” she asks irritably as she walks into the Cortex, juggling the drink holder. “This one stinks to high heaven. Just…eww. I wanted to gag. Actually, I did.”

Caitlin gives her a surprised look, taking one of the cardboard travel cups. “I don’t think they have? I was there just yesterday with Harry and it seemed exactly the same.” She removes the top of the cup and takes a careful sip as Sara and Iris exchange amused glances over their friend’s gradually ever-increasingly “Harry” references. “Hm. Tastes the same too. How odd.”

Iris shrugs, giving her own cup a sniff. “Seems fine to me. Smells like coffee.” She lifts an eyebrow as Sara takes her own cup. “So you didn’t get any?”

“Yuck. No. Got a smoothie instead. The idea of drinking that…crap…upsets my stomach.” Sara turns away, taking a healthy slug of her drink as her friends exchange a glance. “I haven’t really wanted breakfast lately, but this sounded good.”

Then something about the quality of the silence captures her attention and she glances back at them. “What?”

Iris tends to be the blunter of the two, but she seems to be at a loss for words, and it’s the doctor, of course, who speaks up.

“Sara,” Caitlin says carefully, putting her coffee down and folding her hands on the desk. “Uh. I don’t know how to ask this any more tactfully, but…are you…you know...late?”

Sara frowns at her, taking another drink. “Excuse me?”

Caitlin turns a little pinker. “You know…your, ah, cycle? Because that sounds a little…”

She’s saved from explaining any more of the birds and the bees as Sara nearly sprays out a mouthful of strawberry smoothie. “What?!”

They’ve got to be kidding. Really. She has to be imagining this.

Iris has found her voice, though. “She’s asking if Snart knocked you up,” she says a touch acerbically, but there’s concern in her eyes. “Because that does sound suspicious.”

Sara chokes again, dabbing at a runaway dribble smoothie on her sweatshirt. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! We’ve been careful. Precautions have been taken. Cait…”

“Answer the question, Sara.” Caitlin’s voice is implacable now. Her doctor voice, used when dealing with a recalcitrant patient. “Is your period late? Tell me it’s not, and I’ll leave you be.”

Sara huffs at her, then thinks a moment. And as she’s silent, her eyes widen just a little, and she shakes her head back and forth slowly, as if denying the words she’s about to say.

“Yes…” she says slowly. “About…maybe a couple weeks?” Then she makes a visible effort to shrug off the worry. “But…Caitlin, things haven’t been…normal…that way, not since the Pit. It’s not unusual.  At all. It’s not…not that.”

At this point, Team Flash—and Leonard, as far as it goes—knows about the Pit. Caitlin bites her lip, but she also perseveres.

“Still. You don’t…can’t….know that. Please, Sara.”

Sara throws her hands in the air. “What is it you want me to do?”

That, it seems, Caitlin can deal with. She nods, implacable again. “Take a pregnancy test. Just…if it’s negative, we’ll let it go.”

She darts a look at Iris, who shrugs. “I have a couple unopened ones downstairs,” she adds, then rolls her eyes at Sara’s expression. “What? Barry and I…well, we’ve kind of started trying, and we’re here more than we’re at home, it sometimes seems.”

For a moment, it seems like Sara might fight that, too. But then she shrugs as well. “OK. Why not? Small price to pay for getting you off my back.”

It’s silent in the Cortex as Iris departs. Sara can’t quite bring herself to look at Caitlin, who seems to understand, puttering around checking computers and such and leaving her friend to her thoughts.

She hadn’t lied. They had taken precautions, although Sara hadn’t bothered with more than snagging a condom whenever necessary. (They’d stashed them all around the apartment.) Maybe they’re not the best of means, but…given that her cycle has been so erratic or nonexistent since the Pit and it seemed so unlikely that one who’d been honest-to-god dead could create life…well, she hadn’t worried much.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

Iris is back all too soon, handing Sara a drugstore bag and beating a hasty retreat to Caitlin’s side. Sara takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and heads to the restroom. The sooner this is done, the better.

But it isn’t. It really, really isn’t.

“It’s positive,” she says numbly a few minutes later, staring down at that unobtrusive little stick, having stumbled out of the bathroom only moments before. “That can’t be…”

She looks up, taking in Caitlin and Iris, who are both staring at the test too. “It has to be false. Right? That happens?”

But Caitlin clears her throat and reaches out, gently testing the test from her. “False negatives aren’t uncommon this early,” she says quietly. “False positives…that’s not likely.”

“But…I mean, it’s not like we just ignored it. We were careful. And…” Sara lets her voice trails off as she stares at her friends.

This is real, she thinks suddenly. And she’s just starting to put her life back together, just gotten to a point where she’s truly glad to be alive again, and…

Sara takes a step back. Then another.

“I can’t do it,” she says, hearing a note of hysteria in her voice as Caitlin and Iris watch her. “I just can’t. I’m still dealing with…with everything from the Pit, and…” She scrubs a hand over her face, trying to remember what they know, what she’s left out of the story.

“I was an assassin,” she says, words dropping into the silence of the Cortex like stones. “I killed people. A lot of people. I can’t be a mom. That’s just…that’s not right.”

Caitlin, bless her, steps forward after only a moment. Trying to help, because that’s what she does.

“Well,” she says carefully, taking another step and putting a hand on Sara’s shoulder. “You have options. This is early. You know we’ll help, with whatever you want to do.”

Sara drags in another deep breath, but then Iris, always the speaker of the things people don’t want to hear—it must be the journalist in her—joins them.

“Are you going to tell Snart?” she asks gently.

Sara blinks at her. She’s barely begun to digest this herself, let alone think about what it might mean to her lover. “What? No!”

Iris takes a deep breath. “You certainly don’t have to,” she allows. “But if…if you care about him at all, you might want to.” She pauses. “He might surprise you.”

It’s too much. Too soon. All at once.

Sara shakes her head violently. “I can’t believe he’d want…not after his childhood…” She pictures the look on Leonard’s face, the shock, the realization…

And then it all coalesces. She really thinks she does love Leonard, but after all they’ve been through, there’s only one person she really wants to see right now.

“I need to go back to Star,” she says abruptly, turning away. “I need to see Laurel.”

Iris circles her, stopping in front of her on her way out the door. “But…Sara, what about Snart?” She sighs. “OK, I’m maybe not his greatest fan, but…you care about him. You’ve really seemed happy with him.” She bites her lip. “I mean…maybe don’t just vanish on him?”

She’s right, but… Sara shakes her head. “I can’t talk to him yet. I just…I just can’t…” she says helplessly. “Iris…tell him there was an emergency? And that…that I’ll be back. Probably. I just…I need to…think…”

Her friend pauses, then takes a deep breath, reaching out and giving her arms a quick squeeze.

“OK,” she says quietly. “OK. Sara, do what you need to. We’ll get word to him.” She glances over her shoulder at Caitlin. “Just…let us know if you need us.”

That’s all Sara can manage to agree to before she runs out of the room.

*

The drive to Star City seems to take a lot less time than it actually does. Sara finds herself simply staring ahead as she drives the motorcycle, keeping her mind empty, trying not to think about…well, anything, really.

It’s a Saturday, which means Laurel is at home, and thank god, she’s alone. There’s no way Sara could deal with Ollie, or her father, or even Felicity at this point. She hammers at the door, nearly falling in when Laurel opens it, wrapping her arms around herself as she stumbles in and crosses the familiar apartment, Laurel closing the door behind her, voice rising in question.

The couch is soft, comfort more than show—that didn’t use to be Laurel’s style, but it is now. Sara subsides onto it, glad to be stationary. Surely, things should feel even more…different?

“Sara,” her sister says sharply, turning, crossing toward her. “What’s wrong?”

Ugh.

Sara takes a deep breath, then lets it out. She looks up toward Laurel’s worried face, then squeezes her eyes shut. Then opens them, and rips off the bandage, as it were.

“Laurel. I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Then her sister blinks, taking in her own breath.

And another.

And then she sits down, wrapping an arm around Sara’s shoulders, holding her tight.

“The crook?” she asks carefully, not looking at her sister just yet.

Leonard doesn’t deserve that tone, and Sara bristles, just a little. “Leonard,” she says, a little sharply. “Former crook. And…yes.” The tears rise, even though she’s not quite sure why. “I just…I don’t know what to do…”

Laurel holds her tighter. “OK,” she says. “OK. Take a deep breath.” A pause. “Now another. And tell me. When you’re ready.”

That’s really the best thing her sister could possibly say. Sara obeys, for once in her life, dragging in a few deep breaths before glancing over at Laurel’s profile.

“I didn’t think I could...after the Pit,” she says. “I mean...I...it took months for some physical things to get back to approaching normal.”

Laurel nods, after a moment. “That makes sense,” she says. “But…they did? More or less?”

Sara glances away, then back. “Yeah. More or less. And it’s not like…we didn’t take precautions.” She snorts, humor rising despite herself. “Yay for condom value packs.”

Laurel gives her a stern look, through there’s also humor lingering at the corners of it. “Hey! TMI.” She rubs a hand over Sara’s shoulders. “They’re not 100 percent, you know,” she says carefully. “Nothing is.”

“Yeah. Apparently.” Sara sighs, allowing herself to lean against her sister. “But…I never thought…”

They’re both silent a long moment. Sara decides she’ll always owe Laurel for not pointing out how very foolish that “never thinking” was.

“Well,” Laurel says finally. “You’re…ah, not very far along.” She studies Sara’s face. “Do you…want to end it? You can. It’s pretty early. I’ll back you up, no matter what.”

Sara stares down at her hands. On some levels, she thinks, it’s the obvious choice. But…

“I know. But…I always wanted kids,” she says in a low tone. “I mean…once. What if this is my only chance? I mean…I wasn’t kidding when I said things are…very erratic. Still.”

Laurel thinks that over.

“I don’t know,” she says finally, squeezing Sara’s shoulders again. “I can’t answer that. I don’t know how the Pit...affects things. It’s not like there are studies out there on it.”

Sara’s still silent. Laurel takes another deep breath, then takes Sara’s shoulders in her hands, studying her face seriously.

“All right, then,” she says. “What if you do keep going with the pregnancy? What happens then?”

Sara stares at her. She hadn’t really expected that to be held up as an option, even though, somehow, in her heart, she couldn’t help thinking of it as one. Despite everything. Because…even despite everything…this might be her only chance. And, honestly, the idea of Leonard’s child…it’s not…totally unappealing.

But how would he feel about that?

So, she doesn’t say anything. But Laurel, perceptive, nods.

“Snart,” she says quietly. “Will he be a problem? Will he want to...to be involved?”

Sara’s not sure if she’s thinking Leonard will be a problem if he wants to be involved, or if he doesn’t. And she’s not up for arguing about it.

“He had a pretty messed-up childhood,” she admits. “I don’t know. But...I also know he pretty much raised his sister.” She takes a deep breath. “We’ve talked. A lot. I know…he’s trying to be the man his father wasn’t. Maybe...maybe he’d think of this as a second chance too.”

Huh. That’s the first time she’s truly articulated it like that…that she’s thinking of this as a second chance. Sara blinks, considering, but Laurel doesn’t seem fazed, simply squeezing her shoulders again.

“Do you want Snart to have any bearing on your decision?” she asks carefully. “You don’t have to. But I think you care for him, and...”

“And he is the father,” Sara says. “Yeah. I don’t…I don’t know.” She bites her lip, something occurring to her. “Oh, god, Dad’s going to want to kill him.”

That actually gets a gurgle of laughter out of Laurel. “Well, we won’t let him. It takes two and all that,” she says, studying Sara. “I mean…you love him, don’t you? Snart.”

It’s not really a question. And Sara has to nod.

“I do,” she says quietly. “I know it hasn’t been that long…but, yeah.” She sighs. “We’re so…the same. So…both trying to find our ways to something better. I think this is real. But…” She gives Laurel a helpless look. “I wasn’t planning on this. We weren’t planning on this.”

Laurel gives her a sympathetic smile.

“Well,” she says carefully. “You wanted a new challenge. This could be a pretty big one.”

Since Sara’s secretly been thinking about that, she can’t really complain. But she also can’t help feeling a bit guilty about it.

“It’s really not fair to the...the kid, though,” she says, looking down at her hands…and her still-flat stomach. “To make him or her an experiment for two damaged people trying to unfuck their shit.” She glances at Laurel. “And...who am I if I’m not a vigilante? I can’t really go out kicking ass when I’m pregnant. Can I? I don’t even know.”

Laurel gives her a sympathetic look. “Well. Who am I if I’m not Black Canary?” She puts a hand on her cane, which she’s used ever since her run-in with Damien Darhk. “I think I’m doing OK.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“I know.” Laurel pats her arm. “You’d have to figure that out. But, Sara…if you want to try…I’m here for you.”

Sara feels her eyes well up again. “And if I don’t continue the…the pregnancy?”

Laurel leans over and hugs her. “Then I’ll be with you then, too.”

*

Sara’s not there when Leonard gets back to the apartment that day, but he doesn’t think that much of it.

It’s not like they’re in each other’s pockets. He’s spent the day out doing some check-ins with more criminal contacts, and he knows that she’d been planning on spending some time at STAR Labs, training Snow and Iris in some basic self-defense and, in all likelihood, gossiping happily. He has no idea when she’ll get back, but it’s fine whenever she does, and it’s not something he’s even remotely worried about.

Until there’s a knock at the door

*

Iris takes a deep breath, shifting from foot to foot in the sort of nervous motion that isn’t really her. Snart’s actual living space isn’t a secret anymore—it’s more or less Sara’s apartment too—but it still seems odd to be here. He’s always seemed a, well, denizen of penthouses or safe houses, nothing in between, certainly not this ordinary apartment in a nice, but not fancy, building in center city.

It’s just so not…supervillain. Not that Snart’s really playing the villain at all anymore.

There’s a long pause before he answers the door, during which she’s pretty sure he’s considering her through the door’s peephole. And when the door finally starts to swing open, Iris takes a deep breath, organizing the words she needs to say.

She said she’d do anything to help Sara, and she’d meant it. She’d really prefer, though, not to be doing this.

Snart’s eyes are already narrowed as he regards her. “Is Sara OK?” he asks immediately, eyes fixed on hers. Worried? Maybe?

“Can I come in?” Iris responds quickly.

Those blue eyes widen, and he steps backward, a clear invitation that Iris swiftly takes as he pushes the door shut behind her. Iris sucks in a breath, glancing around quickly, then focuses on him again. She’s never seen Snart in short sleeves, but he is now, safe in the confines of his home…a gray T-shirt and jeans, showing scars on his forearms she’s never seen bared before. They don’t surprise her, but Iris jerks her gaze away immediately. She thinks he probably already feels exposed enough.

“What’s going on?” Snart asks, voice low and intense, and Iris can see his hands clench and loosen.

Iris takes another deep breath. “Sara,” she says quietly. “She wanted me to tell you. She had to go back to Star. Suddenly. An emergency.”

Snart’s eyes flicker. He glances to the side. Iris follows his gaze, realizing that his phone’s sitting on the table there. He’s obviously wondering why Sara hadn’t just called or texted him.

“Is everything OK?” he asks intently. “Her sister? Her father? I’ll go...”

Ah, hell. Iris shakes her head quickly, though she thinks the better of him for immediately saying that.

“No,” she tells him. “No, don’t do that. Just…let her…”

What can she say? Not much. And it’s obvious that Leonard realizes that. He stares at her, very clearly registering that Sara doesn’t want him to follow her, and that she didn’t want to talk to him herself. Iris stares back helplessly, feeling pretty rotten about this.

“I didn’t...,” Snart says, as if to himself, glancing away. “Things were fine...” Then he looks back at Iris as if considering something. “Ah. Her ex.”

Does he think Sara’s gone back to Nyssa? “No,” Iris tells him. “No, it’s not that. Just…” She sighs. “Just wait for her, OK? Please?”

Snart stares at her another moment. Then: “That supposes that she’s coming back,” he says quietly. “Is she?”

And Iris can’t bring herself to prevaricate. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I think so.”

He turns aside, then, staring into the apartment, but not like he’s not really seeing it. Iris wants to leave, but…

Her heart, so unexpectedly, is hurting for him. Maybe it’s because this is a far more vulnerable Leonard Snart than she’s ever seen before. Maybe because the tiny touches that say “Sara” are all over the apartment now if you know where to look. It’s a home, not just a place to stay, and they shared it. Seems like that’s something he’s probably never really had before.

And now Sara’s gone, and she can’t even tell him why, or even if she’s definitely coming back.

Snart doesn’t look back at her. But Iris can hear the strain in his voice when he speaks again.

“I’m sorry, Iris,” he says, nearly inaudibly. “But…please go.”

And what else can she do?

She goes.

*

Leonard decides that he’s not going to think about it. That goes against the grain, really, but he just…can’t.

For a few days, at least, he’s not going to think about how stupid he might have been, letting someone in, letting someone have the power to hurt him. Mick had had that power...and used it, by leaving, by lashing out before he’d left, angered and disgusted by Leonard’s need to change. And Lisa...she has it too, and he’s still not sure what’s going on there.

Sara had been the first new person he’d let into…into his heart…in a long, long time.

And she’s gone. Maybe not returning.

No. No, he just can’t think about that. Not yet.

Then, three days later, he comes home from a ramble around the city and a stop at the gym...and Sara is sitting there, curled up in a corner of the couch, watching him.

Leonard lets his bag fall to the floor with a thud. He takes a step toward her, then another, torn between relief, and fear, and maybe even a little anger that he won’t acknowledge—anger and hurt that she hadn’t felt like she could tell him what was going on with her.

But mostly, there’s relief.

“Are you OK?” he asks, staring at her. “Sara, are you all right?”

She gives him a weary smile and a shrug but doesn’t move from her spot on the couch, arms still wrapped around her legs, folded in on herself. Leonard's worry starts to rise again.

“Yes?” Sara says then, as if unsure. “Maybe? I...” She takes a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

Leonard lets the statement hang in the air for a moment, then lets out a humorless laugh. “Nothing good ever started with those words,” he mutters, but he walks over and takes a seat anyway, at the other end of the couch, giving her some space as he studies her.

She looks...tired. Tired and pale and drawn. Sick? Is she...

“I’m pregnant.”

The words fall into the silence like stones. Leonard stares at her, speechless for once in his life, trying to make them make sense.

Sara’s mouth twists. She glances away from him, shoulders hunching a little more.

“It’s yours,” she continues. “If you’re wondering. There hasn’t been anyone else in a long time.” She shrugs, still not looking at him. “I know we...ah, took precautions, but they apparently didn’t work. Somewhere along the line.”

Still, silence. Leonard knows he needs to say something, but he has no idea, no plans for this at all, no...

"What do you want to do?” he says finally, wondering if he should move toward her—or if he’s done rather enough at this point, thank you.

Sara’s eyes flicker back to his, gaze holding on, and there’s a measure of relief there, he thinks. Had she thought he’d flip out or something? Or unilaterally demand...what?

He couldn’t do either even if he wanted to. He can barely breathe.

Sara shrugs again. She relaxes her guarded posture just a little, watching him. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I keep...see-sawing.” She takes a deep breath. “And I decided I at least wanted to hear what you...how you felt...before I made any final decisions.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, but he says it anyway. “How I feel? About...?”

Sara rolls her eyes at him, looking a little more like herself. “The pregnancy, jerk. I mean...about...well...um, parenthood. With...me.”

Leonard stares at her. Once again, trying to line up the words to make sense.

She’s asking him?

*

Oh. Oh, maybe that was a mistake.

Sara bites her lip as Leonard’s eyes widen, stunned surprise clear in them. I broke him, she thinks, a bit hysterically. All he’s been through, and I finally broke him.

Of course, he doesn’t want to be involved. Not after Lewis, not after his own childhood. She’s being foolish, thinking about second chances and challenges. They’re a crook and an assassin, not anyone who should ever be…

But then her lover says, in a voice so low that she can barely hear it, “You’d...trust me with that?”

There’s something fragile in the words. Nothing quite like she’s ever heard out of Leonard before. Disbelief and...and wonder...and...

Oh, Sara thinks again.

Oh, she’d started to misinterpret that badly.

A laugh leaves her lips as more of a sob, and she shakes her head. “Leonard,” she tells him, “I think you want so badly not to be your father that I trust you more with parenthood than I trust myself.”

Leonard gives her a sidelong look—the one that says he’s thinking something he’s not going to say just yet.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he does say, quietly. And then, after another moment, he gets to his feet.

“I...I know you just got back,” he tells her, voice a little rough. “And I’m glad. I’m glad you came back. But I need...I’m gonna go for a walk. Get some air. Think about things. Won’t be too long.” A hesitation. “Will you stay here?”

He’s worried she’ll leave again. Sara fights back a rush of guilt and nods.

“Sure,” she says, settling back, relieved and almost contented to be back in this place that’s becoming home. And hoping it remains that way. “I’m not going anywhere.”

*

The air’s just a little chilly. Leonard hunches his shoulders in his jacket as he walks into the wind, but in truth he doesn’t mind it. His head’s spinning so much that the cold breeze feels good, like a blast of ice water, keeping him in the here and now.

He doesn’t have a set path in mind, just lets his feet pick while his mind is still awhirl.

A kid.

When he’d decided to turn over a new leaf, faced with the boredom in his old life and the feeling that he was just becoming another version of Lewis—albeit one that was much more competent—he hadn’t really had much of a plan. Just a frustrated sense of wrongness with the status quo and a need for something—anything—different.

And it was good. (For the most part. The regret and anger over Mick and his refusal to understand...it was still there.)

And then there was Sara.

And that was even better. And now...

A kid. Well, not yet. Just a few cells, right now. But him and Sara. Together.

It’s...unbelievable.

Oh, he gets the mechanics well enough. But a kid.

Maybe, a long, long time ago, a much younger Leonard Snart had thought a family of his own, in one way or another, was something the future might hold for him. Maybe he’d sworn that he’d be a much better father than his ever was.

But he’d gotten older. Gotten harder. He’d done a lot of bad things, and he no longer thought about really changing his fate. He just wanted to be remembered as better than Lewis Snart.

It was only recently that he’d started thinking, again, that maybe there was more than one way to be better.

“A kid,” he says out loud, slowing, saying the words to the Central City skyline. He’s just about at the waterfront, and it’s twilight, and his city is sparkling around him. Full of potential.

Leonard ambles over to the railing and leans on it, studying the view.

And then, quieter, he tries other words on for size. “A dad.”

It scares the crap out of him.

*

Leonard’s gone about an hour. Sara makes herself a cup of weak tea (the smell doesn’t turn her stomach like coffee does, and surely this little bit of caffeine can’t hurt) and settles back on the couch, reminding herself to breathe.

She’s come to a realization, herself, about what she thinks she wants. She’d decided when Leonard had looked at her with that expression in his eyes. But…that part, that’s not just up to her.

She jumps when she finally hears the door, trying to calm her suddenly racing heart, and looks over as Leonard lets himself in. He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it on a chair, then saunters over, taking a seat himself and finally looking at her again.

Sara can’t read his expression. She licks her lips nervously, wondering, preparing herself to leave, to figure out what’s next, by herself.

But then…then. He moves a little closer, reaching out to take her hands in what is, for Leonard, the height of romantic gestures. And he meets her eyes again, his own���resolute.

“OK,” he says, watching her intently. “What it comes down to…you’re the one who’ll have to deal with all the…work, now. So, I’ll back you up, whatever you want to do. Whatever.”

Sara blinks, registering that, but Leonard’s not done.

“And if that means...having the kid, I’m in,” he says, a thread of something almost nervous in his tone. “I mean, if you want me to be.” He studies Sara’s face, looking uncertain. “I get it if you want to…to run for the hills and not have it have anything to do with me. But I hope you don’t.”

Sara opens her mouth. Closes it, trying to parse out that declaration.

Leonard glances away, then back. “I don’t know how much good I’ll be to you or...it...him...her...but I’ll be damned if I’ll leave you to do this alone,” he mutters. “I figure two people muddling through, if they’re trying their best…gotta be better than one.”

A tiny smile actually tugs at the edge of his mouth as he glances at her. “And I figure you’ll kick my ass if I screw up too much. Might need that.”

That’s just so…Leonard…that Sara lets out another sound that just might be a chuckle. She’s not even sure herself.

She’s not sure of anything other than the sense of…relief, she thinks it’s relief…spreading through her.

Sara lowers her head, blinking furiously, wondering if this is the first sign of the rampant emotions she’s read might mark the early stages of pregnancy. Leonard shifts a little closer, and Sara looks up at him again, registering the concern on his face.

“Sara?” he asks carefully. “What…”

Sara launches herself at him, more or less. She buries her face in his shoulder, feeling his arms going around her, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. And this time, they spill over, and she thinks briefly that if she didn’t look a fright before, she certainly will now. But that’s OK.

It’s OK.

“I think I’m going to. Have the kid, I mean,” she whispers into his already sodden shirt. “I hope it’s not a mistake. But…I think it’s something I need to do. And hell yes, I want you with me. Please.”

One of Leonard’s hands goes up to stroke her hair. For a long moment, they both just sit there, taking it in, both with worries and fears, both with baggage and doubts.

But together.

Finally, Sara feels him move, just a little, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair and taking a deep breath, arms tightening around her again.

“Then,” he says, quietly, “I guess we’re gonna be parents.”