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тнε υηεvιℓ qυεεη (regally) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-10-06 09:02:00

Who: Hooked Queen (Regina & Killian), with a certain 'green bean'
What: Preparing to take some precious cargo back home
When: Today
Where: Kentucky, right outside of Oz
Rating/Warning: None, really, just cuteness
Status: Complete!


A closed adoption meant confidentiality and a sense of being discreet - better yet, no interaction of any kind took place between the birth mum (the biological father’s name wasn’t even recorded on the birth certificate either) and the adoptive parents. In this case, when the situation involved Zelena, a lack of identifying information was for the best. She didn’t need to know that her baby’s new mother was actually the infant’s aunt - all of that would be a bridge to burn some other time, if ever. The purpose of the trip out to Kentucky was to finalise the adoption and go through all that rigamarole - the ink was barely dry on all the correct papers, the newly issued birth certificate with the baby’s adoptive mother and father listed, and the doctor’s note indicating it was fine for her to fly back to California (with formula and nappies in tow) when it was all said and done, and when Killian and Regina actually had her.

Meara, given an Irish name meaning sea, with the middle name Robin and the surname Jones - she luckily didn’t resemble her birth mum in that the peach fuzz atop her head was not a flaming ginger colour, but dark brown instead. Possibly, she’d turn into a redhead later but that remained to be seen. She was absolutely perfect, with all ten fingers and ten toes, weighed about six or seven pounds now (she had been born at a mere five pounds, a wee little thing), a cute little rosebud mouth, and big blue eyes, that cottony blue colour that all newborns shared.

Killian had pulled strings - a lot of them. It was a whole puppeteer song and dance, really. But he knew people who knew other people, people who could easily work their way into the adoption agency to get their names at the top of the list. He also knew hackers who could change a few things on computer systems if need be, to work in their favour - none were as good as Birkhoff, but he didn’t want to worry Kenzi by asking her boyfriend to help with this, not when he seemed like he was attempting to cut back on the less than savoury jobs. Killian would settle for having Birkhoff change a nappy or two, that seemed like a good way to help out as part of the family.

Now, Meara was back with them at the extended stay hotel room they’d found in the neighbouring city of Pine Knot, Kentucky - because Oz, Kentucky was even worse than this shithole. There was literally nothing in the vicinity, besides a prison, Wal-Mart, and a red shack that resembled a fine Italian dining experience with a cartoon man balancing a pizza in his hand. This was probably where Meara was conceived, knowing her biological sperm and egg donors. But anyway.

“Thank the gods we’re leaving tomorrow,” Killian noted, while he was busy packing up their things to make sure they had everything for the plane ride. “I think we’ve got enough blankets for her - “ Premature babies had to gain enough weight to be able to regulate their body temperature, but planes were chilly, “And I’ll check again to make sure you’ve got the aisle seat. If not, I’ll just threaten someone at knife-point.” He was teasing. Probably.

It was all still too surreal for Regina; this particular push-pin on the map known as Oz, being in such close proximity to her estrange half-sister without crossing paths, but nothing was as surreal as the weight of an infant in her arms. Her niece, her blood, the very same one whose face she dreamt about - was it odd to even feel as if this was some sort of reunion rather than a first-time meeting? Every line and round curve that she was composed of was utter perfection and familiarity, and she was theirs.

All that anxiety and doubt of this moment ever happening melted away like it had never existed. There was always something about a baby that peeled away that iron, regal demeanor of a queen - Killian had seen the look when Niko was introduced into the world, but there was something significantly different about this one. Unfiltered, adoring happiness, even if the brief moments they’ve had of child caring didn’t allow her to properly style her hair.

Though she supposed that was something to get used to.

While the pirate dutifully put away their belongings (Kenzi was also blasting his phone with things like ‘PICS PLZ OMG’), she was sitting in bed, back pressed against the headboard with a peach-wrapped bundle in her arms. Meara didn’t want slumber, just interaction, which benefited them anyway - meant she’d be mostly asleep for the flight back. “Please do. My hands will be far too occupied to hold a knife as it is anyway, unless you want the aisle seat? That means you’ll have diaper-duty the entire flight.”

Easier access to the bathroom that way. But Regina wasn’t worried, and easily went back to make little faces and coo sounds at their bite-sized princess.

Rare were the moments that Regina let down those iron bars around her iron heart to let a side emerge that was all about baby talk and cooing noises - Killian was a bit guilty of it himself though, as she had also seen when they played nanny for Nikolas. He knew this was right, and he’d known it from the moment he first held Meara - honestly, he’d just about died when he had that squirming bundle in his arms and she locked eyes with him and all of a sudden, he knew what people meant when they spoke of love at first sight.

He didn’t think it was possible to love someone the first time you laid eyes on them, but he’d gladly admit that he was wrong.

There were still some insecurities simmering in the back of his mind, but not so much about whether he deserved this, or if Regina really wanted it with the man who had the lion tattoo instead - but more like anxiety about if he could be a perfect enough father for a perfect little girl. Of course, rationally, he knew no one was a perfect parent. But just looking at her made him want to give it his all.

“Christ, alright,” he said to his phone - in response to the device blowing up, that is. Chuckling, he took a photo of Regina holding the blanket-wrapped sprog and sent that to Kenzi. “Suppose I don’t mind diaper duty. If anyone sneezes around her they’re in for it, though.” Keep your germs away, fuckers.

He in his black leather, cloaked in shadows and that dark and brooding demeanor, probably looked like something from what doesn’t belong here when he was holding a baby wrapped in pink blankets, but there was something endearing about it. “It’s still very surreal, isn’t it?” Killian asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, easing in next to Regina.

“Extremely,” she agreed with a whisper, her voices several notches softer. Regina had spent moments in her life in a realization that she’d never have this, and not because she didn’t want it - she never spoke much about her lack of luck when it came to conceiving, and she could only guess it was a terrible cosmic joke in relation to what she’d done to herself in order to spite her mother. Regardless of the fertility issues she’d come into motherhood in both lives; it wasn’t always about blood, even if she and Meara did share some DNA.

It sounded nauseatingly cheesy, but it really was all about the love. She’d always love Henry like he was hers, and she’d love this one as if she and Killian made her themselves. They were her parents now. Not Zelena or the fabled thief of the forest.

Now, she didn’t want to hog the little one too much - carefully, the baby was adjusted in her arms to pass her over to the new father. “Come on, take her. You won’t drop or break her. You’d be surprised how sturdy babies can actually be.”

“Are you certain about that?” Killian just had to laugh a little, amused and in such wonderment - mostly because he was still boggling over how something could be so compact and adorable. Also, baby feet were just too bloody much for him to handle. In addition to those, the wee fingernails though.

But he was eager to hold Meara anyway, and he took her gently from Regina’s arms to transfer her into his own. She rested in the crook of his left arm, the right arm with his remaining hand coming up so he could touch her tiny hands, balled into fists, stroking there before tapping the shape of her mouth and her chin. The way he looked at her, he couldn’t really hide any of that awe and affection either.

Zelena choosing to give her up for adoption was what he and Regina hoped for, and Killian was just relieved it went that way - there was nothing here for Meara, not in Kentucky, not in such a depressing, vacant place. Not to mention Zelena wasn’t exactly sane in any life - and he’d gathered enough information about her to know. “We’ve come so far, haven’t we?” he grinned proudly, glancing at Regina. “I think you used to loathe me, darling.”

What a moment to bring such things in perspective, hm? Regina could at least fondly remember the moment he stumbled into her lawn, covered in pulverized zombie powder - the sight of him had felt like a ship’s anchor at the bottom of her stomach from dread and, yes, annoyance. “Loathe is such a strong word,” she chuckled against the scruff of his face, kissing his cheek. “I expected us to at least become better friends than the piss-poor excuse of tolerance we have for each other in Storybrooke, but I think the reality of sharing parenthood exceeded those expectations in a very interesting way.”

It was a different route of life here but she was happiest this way, she really was - whatever happened on the other side couldn’t ruin this.

“What I do loathe, however, is this awful town - how the hell did Zelena survive life here?” A rhetorical question as she let Meara squeeze her finger. Such a strong grip for a tiny thing. “It’s a wasteland of degenerates.”

Alright, harsh, but was she wrong? Zelena didn’t need to stay here. She needed out, somewhere fresh and new to figure things out. At least their new little one wouldn’t be subjected to the lack of everything this place seemed to hold. It’s prized possession was a Wal-Mart the size of a shoebox, which circled back to the word awful.

“Well, at least we know we go at each other hotly enough to rock carriages and set things on fire - in any ‘verse,” Killian pointed out, with a smirk. Maybe he and Regina didn’t end up all buddy-buddy in the Land of Dreams, but no matter. They were quite the kerosene-and-a-match-explosion either way, an undeniable connection and passion shared between them. There was an understanding there that not even Emma could touch, and Hook professed to love her deeply.

At this point though, on the outside looking in, he wasn’t sure if Emma loved him or loved the idea of not being alone. The idea that someone hadn’t bloody well left her, no matter who it was - and he’d be at her beck and call. Was that really love? Questions for another time.

“No clue why Zelena, or anyone, would stay - but that’s her reasoning, I suppose. It worked out for us. And I’ll teach her to sail, and to fish, and navigate by the stars - to swordfight too, of course, yes?” He rocked the baby in his arms, as if asking her what she thought. Meara simply cooed in response.

Regardless, in the here and now, Killian knew what love was. “I know the first didn’t go very well, but if I asked you to marry me - later...” Much later, shite, he couldn’t even get this out without seizing up from crippling anxiety. “Would you laugh, or would you want to?” Not that he thought Regina would be so rude as to laugh at a proposal - she was far too classy for that. It was just him gauging things for the future.

It wasn’t as if his question (proposal, even) came out of nowhere. Regina had been supportive about giving Meara his last name, after all - a show that there were strides towards a certain goal sometime in the future. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or next month but she’d want to. Her first marriages were complete failures, it was no secret; the one she had here had been rushed at a young age, and Cora had arranged her union with Snow White’s father (who really just wanted a warm dick to stick it into and call his queen, let’s be frank about that), but still. It only taught her to not compromise, and to go after what she really wanted.

She had lost Daniel, and Robin, and had almost lost Killian - she had love here and she wasn’t about to lose him or what they should have. For any damn reason.

“Hmmm,” she thought, drawing the sound out for the sake of suspense. Her majesty wasn’t laughing but she’d make him sweat for half a second, hence the bemused quirk of her mouth. “Actually, I would - and very quickly - say yes, if you asked me to marry you later. I’d imagine you’d want the time to get your Roger ready for that sort of thing first.”

Did she really ever have to ask him where he’d want to tie the knot?

Teasing him was quite different than laughing in his face, in a cruel way - as it was, Killian chuckled too, mimicking the hmmmmm the way Regina had drawn out the noise of deep, deep contemplation. “I’ve got to get the Roger ready,” he agreed, his face lighting up just a touch - he always had this look about him, like he was surrounded by stormclouds. It was even worse when he was cursed - the red rimmed eyes and the madness, that wasn’t even himself. But very rarely was he lighthearted. Only now, he smiled in such a way to crinkle his eyes where the barest grooves of laugh lines were - for a man who laughed so rarely.

“And find you a beautiful ring, of course. But that will happen in due time, along with choosing a honeymoon locale. Someplace where we can sail and go horseback riding. I know you miss it a bit,” he looked at her pointedly, leaning over with the baby in his arms to press a kiss into her hair.

Regina did miss the horses - she came across very posh and clean but was never afraid to get her hands dirty with a mount (the larger the mammal, the larger the mess), so she was pleased to hear that inclusion. “Don’t spoil me with all the details yet, captain,” the she mused, tickling his ear with her nose and soft breath. “I’m just surprised to hear that I’ve managed to seduce the fearsome Hook into thinking about marriage.”

Wasn’t he just yesterday almost hyperventilating about the prospect of not fucking his problems away? He wasn’t easy to get close to, and neither was she - but no one else could relate to them like they did with each other, especially when it came to what they’ve lost and what it caused them to become. A vengeful pirate and a vengeful queen. “Regina Jones also doesn’t sound ear-shattering,” she added. Mills would be kept in there, technically, but she’d take his to match the two she was cozied up to in bed with.

Killian wasn’t easy to get close to because his life had been defined by loss, and having it potentially happen again had previously been too much of a gamble so therefore seemed best to just not open yourself up to it - in addition to that, there was a special sort of self-loathing that came about because his failings at being what Liam envisioned, what Liam wanted him to be and what he fought so hard for by getting them out of squalor in Belfast; all of it combined could be blamed as the cause of brambles which grew in an impenetrable patch around his bruised heart. But perhaps, beneath all that, there was a desire to experience love - to care about someone, and be cared about in return. Just took someone patient enough, the right person, to see that.

Having a little girl to raise didn’t hurt either. This was a wish he never really dared hope for in the past. “You’ve seduced me in all ways, Your Majesty,” he rumbled. “Regina Jones - “ It really didn’t sound awful at all, no. Flowed nicely off the tongue? “I do like it. But you don’t have to take my name, you know. I’m honestly alright either way.” If she wanted to or didn’t want to, well, it was her choice.

In the end, this had been all that Regina wanted - happiness through family. Power didn’t matter, vengeance didn’t either, but that’s all she’d once had in another world and for awhile, she was convinced that’s all she’d have here. This was something the both of them deserved. And it helped that this was something they both wanted, too.

Her head went to rest on his shoulder, just for a minute. Maybe now that he had the baby she’d have a chance to actually do something with her hair and finish stuffing the diaper bag with all sorts of in case things, but this moment was impenetrable. “Oh, hush, I’ll be taking both,” she confirmed, letting her fingers be subject to whatever this little one wanted - to squeeze, to tug, to marvel. “We’ll match, like an actual family - without sacrificing a thing.”

The baby was rather occupied with feeling out things, namely, mummy’s finger - she was in that stage of ‘quiet alertness’ now, which seemed to be different than ‘cranky alertness’ and ‘passed the fuck out.’ Killian would take it. Newborns, they didn’t have much of a personality yet - and only knew how to cry to express themselves, so the moment of not screaming would be appreciated.

“An actual family? Matching? It was all certainly worth coming back from the Underworld for. So I ought to thank you for that,” he said, resting his cheek in Regina’s hair. Now she could go and do whatever she needed to do. As soon as Meara got restless, he’d spring up and try to decipher the code. “Who knows what else is in store for us. But I do believe we’ve got quite an interesting story to tell - better than anything in Storybrooke.”

An actual, matching family. Imagine that. Regina’s mouth stretched to such a grin, and she planted the mother of all kisses against his cheek before pulling away and climbing off the bed. It was that hair that needed attending to, which would really just be a brush through it and up in a neat ponytail - it’d gotten long, though if she really wanted look the part of rocker queen again a little magic would do the trick. “I think we’ve had our share of Disney villains and our venturing towards more of the literary classics,” she mumbled around a bobby pin before sticking it somewhere, mostly to keep those side swept bangs from getting in her eyes.

And who knows what the consequences of ‘killing’ the personification of her inner evil would have. A stupid mistake like that was going to have some kind of domino effect, she was sure of it, and whatever it may be she hoped it wouldn’t carry over in the way things often did. Then there was her newfound amicable sisterhood with the Wicked Witch, so that was also bound to be a very unpredictable rollercoaster.

It exhausted her just thinking about it.

“At least we’ll have quite the adorable distraction from all that once it hits us again. I’d rather lose sleep because she needs a diaper change than the discombobulated tales of Storybrooke anyway,” she added with a shrug, packing up the rest of her toiletries. “I have Midna taking over some of my work for a couple days while we get this one adjusted - figuring out a routine for her, that sort of thing.”

“A much better distraction,” Killian agreed, because he too couldn’t even begin to imagine the shit that would befall them next. All he knew was that opening the ‘Land of Untold Stories’ box was like opening the one belonging to Pandora (who in all actuality was probably the petrol station attendant in Storybrooke, and no one knew) - honestly, what in the hell was going on? He was the one dreaming it and there were some nights when he just had no fucking clue. “Kenzi will help out too, when she can - she was so proud to buy the crib.”

And big brother had put it together, even. That had been a barrel of laughs. “I know she’ll sleep in our room for a bit but when she’s a little older the nursery is waiting and it’s beautiful - you’ll love it, Meara,” he told the baby, who yawned. So impressed, she was.

Sharkbait was proud having contributed to the nursery in some way - it’s not like they’d publicized their possible adoption to the masses for some kind of baby shower, and scrambling for every bit of baby product (while also holding onto the receipts for that dreadful in case it doesn’t happen scenario) had been a hurried, expensive process. Having something like the crib out of the way was a help.

And they could have helped him assemble it like a team, but watching him grumble Gaelic curse words was a much more entertaining pastime.

“We’ll just have to get a little creative with our bedroom antics, too,” Regina smirked - they at least had the crypt down below, where that fateful carriage was also stored. They had options. “I think we’re just about done here, packing-wise. I’m ready to go back home. Before we have an awkward random encounter with my sister at the gas station.”

The second hottest place to start conversations aside from that lone Wal-Mart the size of a goldfish bowl.

Ye gods, having an awkward random encounter at the gas station, the DMV, or the grocery store - top three places Killian would not want to meet Zelena. Or anytime at all, really, come to think of it. “If there’s one thing we aren’t lacking, it’s creativity in the bedroom,” he sounded proud of that himself - and don’t get him wrong, he was.

But it had been a good trip to Kentucky, despite the inevitable aspect of being trapped in a dusty, desolate, dead zone - they took care of what they came for, and they’d return to Orange County with a bite-sized princess added to the family. All in all, not so terrible for the Bluegrass State - and if you asked this pirate, already loads better than any trip to the Underworld.