(ಠ_ಠ) (break_the_cycle) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-10-23 23:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, commander jane shepard, regina mills (evil queen) |
I raised a Krogan
Who: Regina, Shepard and Meara
What: Meeting the new baby and the tick toc of the biological clock
When: Recently
Where: Regina's
Status: complete
Rating: PG for feels
Maternal instincts ran deep in Regina. It wasn’t a secret - she’d had some trouble having one of her own (which she would later blame on a gross parallel with how she’d sabotaged her uterus to spite her mother, that explained a lot) and she had begrudgingly accepted it just wouldn’t happen. Adoption crossed her mind more than once, especially when she dreamt about her own adopted son. Henry’s mere existence had been the reason why she wanted to become a better person, and she’d committed a slew of mistakes raising him. Mistakes she was far from proud of, but mistakes he’d forgiven her for, and he didn’t love her any less. Perhaps things were different here on his end, but the her love for Henry would never waver.
Meara was a second chance. Robin was her name, technically, in the dreams, and even though in her grief-ridden state she may have approved of honoring her supposed true love in that way, she found it distasteful here - but she wouldn’t eradicate that part of her completely, and the compromise was to keep Robin as a middle name. If she’d wanted to go by it in the future then that was her choice; she’d support it if they got to that bridge.
Frazzled hair was an odd look for a woman who was often very pristine and well put-together, but when the responsibilities of motherhood came then time for yourself was sacrificed. Not to mention this infant was a little colicky, with the constant crying and stubborn passing of gas - it was exhausting, and she questioned on whether or not it was even wise to have a guest over. Killian had a client to meet last-minute with Kenzi, so she was without the extra relief for a moment.
But by the time someone came to the door at least she’d gotten the baby to fuss less, now with little whines and sniffling within the confines of Regina’s arms. “Come in, come in - I can’t guarantee she’ll be the quietest, though.”
Seeing Regina frazzled was definitely a new kind of treat, and Shepard gave her a big, bright grin when the door opened. Regina looked about as good as she remembered, even with the frazzled. Maybe because of it. "She's adorable. How are you handling things?"
Regina was basically a new mother, and as Shepard's eyes fell on the girl she felt a new kind of pang. A little bit of jealousy, and a little bit of longing. Mostly happiness for Regina. But still. That pang. Like the tick tock of a certain kind of clock.
Regina’s house once held a single occupant: her. Now there was a pirate, his rogue sister, an actual cat that went in and out as she pleased (Tigra typically prowled around the mausoleum outside), and now the new, noisy addition that was her daughter. Blood niece, technically, but technicalities didn’t matter.
“I’m…” Her cherry-red lips smiled, almost sheepishly. “Handling it. Let’s just say dreaming about raising a fussy boy prepared me somewhat.” Jane was led inside the house, still fairly clean but with a couple of small changes that reflected the people who lived there. The bassinet was in the living room as well as an entire assortment of baby items. “It’s been awhile since I’ve actually seen you. You look good.”
For Regina, it was her child, and that was enough for Shepard. The house being so busy, that would be a surprise, but she liked the idea that Regina’s life had gotten full of people. If nothing else, people were what made change worthwhile. She smiled, looking around. “Thanks, you look good too. A little frazzled but under the circumstances, I can’t blame you.”
She stepped on something that squeaked, and gently nudged it aside with her foot.
Babies had a thing of doing that to you, didn’t they - didn’t matter how well put-together you were, but when a little one refused to quiet down it tended to jump the nerves. Meara’s face was extra-pink from screeching at the top of her lungs but she seemed better now, so perhaps it was safe for Jane to have her arms occupied?
“She just calmed down,” Regina explained, gently bouncing the infant. “Would you want to hold her? I can get you something to drink if you do. Or you can hold her without your thirst needing quenching, regardless.”
“I’d love to.” Jane had held a baby precisely three times in this life, though one of those had been under fire. So she was very nervous. She didn’t want to break Regina’s new daughter. She figured that would be one way to curse Orange County worse than it already was. Or at least get murdered. Murdered would be a possibility.
A curse, a little murder - all things possible when it came to this particular fairytale queen but as long as Jane didn’t have a sudden case of butter fingers and drop the baby on her head, all would be well. “Just...hold her as you would with your most prized rifle?” Regina advised, trying to remember what were the things the Commander held so dear and literally touched so tenderly. A shiny firearm seemed like it’d fit the bill, and she carefully slipped Meara into her arms.
And look, no wailing. Still a bit whimpery, a sniffle here and there, but with the right warm and just a bit of comforting jiggling she’d be fine. Seems as though that stubborn pocket of gas seemed to have been released - holding in flatulence tended to make her distressed, they’ve come to learn. “There you go, see? Can I get you water? Lemonade?”
Jane grinned down at the baby, holding her as if she were a very fragile thing and rocking her ever so slowly. She wriggled her fingers, at her, then glanced up at Regina, blinking. “A lemonade sounds good, thank you.”
As much as Grunt was her ‘baby’, an actual human baby was something else entirely. And different from a hamster. Or fish. Although how she managed to keep a hamster alive when her fish kept dropping like flies was a question for the ages.
If this were a disney movie, Shepard would start singing about longing for a family, but it isn’t, so the world is spared her off-key singing. She grinned, “Well hello Meara.”
Huh. Jane was good with kids, what a surprise - she raised an amused brow before exiting briefly to retrieve her drink. Meara was a tiny, somewhat premature thing, with cloudy blue eyes that sleepily fluttered and a little mouth that opened for a yawn. Her fists curled against her cheeks, unintentionally bunching them up.
It didn’t take long for Regina to return with two glasses. Since Shepard’s hands were currently occupied, both lemonades were placed on top of coasters on the coffee table. “You look like a natural holding one,” she commented, tucking some of that raven hair behind her ears. “There’s still hope for some kind of little blue baby, I’m sure.”
Meara was adorable and precious and all those other words that drove people up the wall when talking about a child. The yawn and the fists and the cheek were completely unfair, and Jane’s smile made her face hurt. She kept her voice low, so as to not startle the baby. “Not gonna hold out hope there. Maybe some day a nice pink one, though. This one is nice.” She winked at Regina.
Pink ones, blue ones, green ones. All cute in their own way, but she was also fond of Meara because she was hers. Regina didn’t need to through the motions of pregnancy and labor to have that kind of love. And really, she didn’t even think much about her actual origins. This baby was more than just the product of a trainwreck encounter between her sister and the thief with the lion tattoo.
“Cross your fingers, she might actually turn out to be a redhead too,” she smirked, knees crossed. “A little too early to tell yet but it barely even looks like she has hair, so I doubt it’ll grow in dark.”
“I’ll have to teach her how to handle bullies on the playground. Growing up ginger does sometimes lead to interesting taunts.” Jane was torn between offering the child back, or holding her more. It was hard to drink lemonade with a baby in hand but it might be a worthy sacrifice.
Jane was welcome to hold her as much as she’d like. It seems as if she could use the distraction anyway, and nothing captured the attention more than a baby. Regina chuckled. “I’m sure it does. But how’s everything been outside of patrolling the Milky Way for possible threats? Do you even spend time on Earth much these days?”
“More time than you’d think,” Shepard said. She flicked her eyes up to Regina then back down to Meara. “A lot of it is automated, and it gets really lonely up there. Besides, I have to keep an eye on the troops, literal and figurative. And I miss out on playing with new weapons.” Carolina’s gravity hammer had been a treat.
“I’m trying to find a nice work-life balance, anyway.” She trailed off, sighing heavily. “I’ve always be torn between being absorbed in duty and orders, and not wanting that to be all my life was.”
“Making more time for people in your life isn’t an awful start,” Regina suggested, clasping her hands over her knee. “There’s only so much patrolling you can do, but I suppose you’re still really worried about another one of those things showing up, aren’t you?”
Jane was a cynic and so was she. It was entirely possible that there were more out there, biding their time and waiting for the right moment. Why wouldn’t they? This place took a constant shat on them. They’ve had things come from the depths of the ocean, the very mouth of hell and even the sky. Space seemed to be the next thing that needed to be checked off the list.
“Always will be worried about that.” It was a frank admission. Jane shrugged one shoulder, careful to not jostle Meara when she did so. “I get out. Besides the shooting range, I mean.” She did like the shooting range. Or in some cases the ‘out-in-the-wilderness-testing-advanced-w
Sweet sentiment, at least. “Try not to worry your life away. If there’s one thing living here’s taught me is that nothing can be stopped. Expecting it is the closest thing we can do.” Regina had learned that the hard way with what had happened with the Dark One’s curse. Once, twice, thrice - the latter the final charm in ridding that thing for good, even if it involved piercing her lover with Excalibur.
Shepard waggled a finger. “Hey, I’m trying.” Not that she’d been on a date in ten months or longer. Well, a romantic date. A ‘shooting things with your straight subordinate’ date was a different kind of date. Meara started to fuss a little, and she approached Regina. “I think she wants her mom.”
Meara started to fuss because she started to get a little stinky, and Regina had to dig through the blanket, pull back the onesie and diaper for a proper investigation to solidly confirm. It’d be a glorious, glorious day when the little one was old enough and able to wipe her own butt, but right now she relied on the adults in her life for such a thing.
“I’ve lost count how many times her diaper’s been changed today,” she sighed (fondly, of course, only babies could shit and piss themselves where it’d lead to pleasant exasperation). “But excellent, now you can help me. Try not to breathe through your nose for the next ten minutes if you know what’s good for you.”
Applying diaper cream and all that baby powder nonsense would distract Jane well enough from the threats that lingered outside the Earth’s atmosphere, she thought.
“I raised a Krogan,” Shepard boasted. “What’s the worse that a baby can do?”