terribly sorry, officer (baelfiery) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-11-25 11:58:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, emma swan, neal cassidy (baelfire) |
Who: Swanfire
What: Plotting Christmas gifts, after the Fairytale Thanksgiving
When: Friday night
Where: Their house
Rating/Warnings: Not really!
Status: Complete
For the first time in who knew how long, Emma was genuinely looking forward to Christmas. It had been her first big Thanksgiving since her teens and while it brought back a lot of memories, she really couldn’t say that they were sore or painful this time around. Between family and the kids and just the sheer amount of food, it felt nothing but right the whole time. And even a few days later, still stuffed with food, Emma was riding out the high of festivities and family and diving into the next round of holiday cheer. Christmas. Niko’s first ever Christmas, Henry’s first Christmas with them as parents. Her and Neal’s first one together together. There were a lot of firsts to celebrate which meant planning. And Emma was all for planning. She was starting to get into the swing of it all; lists for people that needed presets, lists for stuff they needed for the house (did Neal have a tree? Should they get a real tree? Would the dogs attack said tree and/or pee on it? Was real the best way to go with a baby that was wriggling his way all over the place?) and ideas for Christmasy fun things to try out. Emma was determined that they’d make the most of it. Even if it included her burning some cookies. So the disarray that was Emma on the floor, baby monitor beside her while Niko slept and Henry got that last half hour of playing his games before bed, was really a careful construction of list making and planning. Even if it did just look like her, on the floor in the middle of paper with a glass of wine. Niko was about at that stage where he slept through the night, minus one or two wakeful hiccups here or there, and he also now slept in his crib - the one Neal and Revy had constructed one evening while their people were conducting a seance to contact one previously-dead pirate. Needless to say, the experience was firmly lodged in Neal’s memory. But he and Emma and others had worked hard on designing the very best safari nursery - the rocking chair from Tas also got a lot of use, during those occasional fussy nights. At the moment, Chubbers Cassidy was down and out for the count - and Henry, so kind of him, at least had the bedroom door to his cave of teenage solitude shut while he continued his Mass Effect playthrough. “Ten minutes,” Neal told him, rapping on the door with his knuckles when he passed. “I just need to finish this one quest!” Henry’s eternal excuse. Maybe letting him have a computer in his room wasn’t the best idea, but he was generally good about going to bed at a decent hour. Since technically he was too old to enforce an actual bedtime for. Heading down the stairs, Neal stole the bottle that Emma had poured from, giving it a once over, then decided to get a glass for himself too - hell, why not. “There’s organization to the chaos, right?” he grinned one of those crooked smiles that always seemed to reach his eyes, and settled near her. “Are you plotting?” “So full of plotting. I have star charts and some villains on speed dial for pointers. I think I should rule the world.” Although sometimes she was sure she couldn’t even rule the house, her or Neal when Henry pulled out that but moooom and the sad puppy look. That was all from Neal, all of it. But there was a degree of organisation to the chaos, she’d at least put her little notebook of ‘stuff to remember for wedding things and whatever’, which was her affectionate name for all the things she didn’t realise went with weddings, and was focusing on the ‘people I want to spoil with gifts’ side of things. “I’m trying to work out if I should buy Henry the retro-slushie maker I saw online… Or if I want it more.” She knew she was probably a bit early, and she used to hate people that did it -started Christmas shopping in August or something, but she needed to get chopping. “Also, what do you get the formerly evil Queen who has everything?” For the most part. “Diapers?” Neal quipped, but it was sadly true - the formerly evil Queen and her pirate used up diapers for their little princess at the speed of light. As a fellow parent to an infant, Neal understood this, it was just that diapers didn’t really make much of a present by themselves. “Hm, let’s seeeeee...” Without disturbing Emma’s lists, he leaned over and planted a kiss in the mess of wavy blonde hair she had, trying to see what she’d written. Wedding planning was also a whole other bag of chuckles - at least they’d managed to nail down a date, and a location, and actually booked that location. He was pretty sure they’d do a farm-to-table meal for guests, now it was a matter of the smaller things. Like colors and flowers and a cake (please, not six tiers with a shit ton of inedible frosting) and favors and...to have chair ribbons or not to have chair ribbons? That was the question. Anyway. “There’s this place in Santa Ana that does nature retreats - horseback riding in the basin, it’s a nice trail from what I’ve heard. Maybe that, for her and Killian?” The latter wasn’t much of a rider but Regina was, Neal knew, and he also knew the Captain would suck it up and go with her if it meant making her happy. “As for the slushie-maker, that’s definitely an ‘us’ present. We can figure out something else cool for Henry.” It didn’t seem that long ago that they were going through so many diapers and wipes. All the laundry loads that were almost all baby clothes, the spit and the drool and milk all over the place. Babies were so small and yet, they made so much mess. Tiny little babies were just a handful. “Oh, one of those baskets with the diapers made into little animal shapes.” With a bottle of wine in the middle maybe. “Horseback riding would be nice for them, even if Killian is nowhere near as into it as Regina would be.” Emma’d heard the stories about the Enchanted Forest, she’d never gotten to see much of it or live that life with them, but still. It was a great idea for Regina. “Santa Ana would be nice for them.” Presents were meant to be cherished after all. Shuffling a few of her papers, shifting in to that press of kiss, Emma checked a little note beside Regina and Killian for now. “It makes alcoholic ones too.” Because those were the best kind of slushies. Neal chuckled. “Good idea - can’t go wrong with diaper baskets,” and that would definitely be appreciated by the parents. Hell, give him and Emma a diaper basket and they’d be weeping with joy. Diapers were also kind of expensive so anything to save money was nice. Put a bottle of wine in the middle of the animal display, and you definitely had a winner. “Diapers and horses for them, what about for David and Mary Margaret?” he asked, sloshing the wine in his glass and knocking a little back. His sort-of-in-law’s. How weird. But he still wanted to get something nice for them, especially since Mary Margaret was always good about watching Henry or Niko if necessary, and spending time with them. “Damn, now I really want an alcoholic slushie. Maybe archery lessons for Henry?” Neal’s eyebrow quirked up, questioning. “He’s been asking for them, ever since he met Hawkeye in a pizza joint. And he might be ready.” Thirteen was a good age for that, right? Baby supplies did not buy themselves, nor were they cheap. It seemed like a smart enough move to work with anyway. And practical with a little indulgence was okay. “I’m thinking, maybe a weekend away? I mean, is it a little early?” But then, David and Mary Margaret were like the epitome of True Love. “Maybe one of those cute beach houses, away from all this crazy for a little while?” Everyone needed a break from the OC. Emma didn’t know if it was the break from drinking (and coffee) that made her really want to water down or liven up how she indulged in some drinking, a glass of wine here, a very sugary cocktail there, more sugar rush than alcohol buzz really, or if she just wanted a childish gadget for the kitchen that she could actually use. But that slushie maker was getting ordered in the morning. “Archery? Are we encouraging our teenager to become an outlaw or a one boy army?” Then again he was caught up in all this OC drama too, especially around the family he had, pirates, Queens, bandits, princes, lost boys and saviors. It was probably a miracle they’d gotten to thirteen without Henry badgering them about it all. “Okay, archery lessons for our crossbow and sword wielding son.” He had done pretty well when Emma was on route to the delivery room. “We’re either the most awesome parents ever, or we’re going to need to pay his bail in a few years time.” “Emmmmmmaaaa, you’re so uncool,” Neal teased - it was exactly what Henry would say, and while he understood that there was some hesitation about archery, it seemed pretty safe in the long run. It was an Olympic sport, right? He’d look at it like that, like learning a fine art. Not like the kid was going to go out and shoot arrows at criminals or some shit. Maybe they better make that clear though. Just in case - no vigilante nonsense. Leave that to the pros, Henry. Now back to pondering what to get David and Mary Margaret. Was it too soon for a romantic beach getaway? He wasn’t sure what the protocol on that was. Eh, may as well go for it. If they didn’t want the gift, someone else would. “I think a beach thing would be nice for the Charmings,” he sighed, flopping on the floor to stretch out beside Emma, joints popping - was he getting old? Maybe it was the parenting, that definitely aged you. “Something with a really great ocean view. Even if they go and don’t get it on, but just cuddle instead.” “One of us needs to be uncool, you’re just too cool. Cool Dad, Overly Worried Mom, that’s our wheelhouse.” At least until magic came into play and then Emma was less over worried mom and just… blast. Finger crossed for none of that in the holiday season this year. “So we’re moving through the family list way fast, we’re awesome at hypothetical shopping. I have no idea what Kenzi would want, but I’ll pick Regina’s brain for ideas and obviously we’re going to give ourselves a limit and then hit the baby girl aisle and go insane when it comes to Meara.” Because babies. “You know, I wasn’t baby crazy until you knocked me up.” A sip of wine around a smile was pretty much the only way to pretend to keep a straight face there. Because yeah, she wasn’t baby daft, and since Niko she maybe went a little goo-goo over little squishy humans but still, it was hard to not be squishy about them. “Which just leaves the most important one.” Leaning back on the sofa she was propping herself against, Emma twisted herself to face Neal properly, “What’cha want for Christmas babe?” Neal thought that most anything sparkly would be good for Kenzi - that, or shoes. A combo of both sparkly and shoes. Potentially fortune cookies disguised as glitter bombs, for all her pranking needs - Regina probably wouldn’t appreciate that on the upholstery though. “What does a three-month old want for Christmas?” he joked, referring to Meara - she’d probably be set with another milk coma, like she went into for Thanksgiving. Babies that young had such simple needs. “Going crazy over baby stuff - “ Like frilly dresses or tiny patent leather shoes, maybe Emma wished they had a girl and this was her living vicariously? “... is all you, babe, I’ll just give you the credit card. As long as you promise to get a snowman costume for Niko.” How fucking cute would he look, chunky in a rolly-polly Frosty outfit? Plus the pictures. So much embarrassing shit to show off to his friends when he was older, and no doubt lost the baby fat. “And what do I want for Christmas,” he hummed, reaching up to tug Emma closer, so she’d be sprawled atop him - he made a good resting place. “I honestly don’t know. Though I could ask you the same thing?” Emma wouldn’t say that she’d hoped for a little girl -a baby girl would’ve been nice, balance out the house a little, give them their proper little nuclear family in a sense. But she wouldn’t change her little chunker at all. Girls just had a lot more cute and frilly little bits to fawn and coo over. And while Regina and Killian didn’t seem the types to want their little princess all dolled up in ruffles and frills and pink head to toe, Emma could indulge in some girly bows and ribbons and adorable little animal adorned outfits. “Don’t look at the bills that come in. You might faint and hurt yourself.” Giggling while she righted herself a little in her new sprawled, comfy position against Neal, Emma gave an exaggerated pause to think about what she did want for Christmas. “Hmm, let me see.” Then again, it was only partly for show, because really what else could she want? She had just about everything she’d ever actually wanted -loving family, stable life, home. Happy Ending playing out right in front of her. “You know I’m actually struggling to think of something I don’t have.” Aside from a slushie maker, which she was getting. “I think you’ve finally spoiled me rotten.” “You deserve to be spoiled,” Neal said, and he smiled when he did - though his tone held a bit of wistfulness to it, a bit of regret. There was a part of him that still felt like a piece of shit for what he did in the dreams, meaning, listening to that other piece of shit August - what if Neal had never left Emma? What if he chose to be selfish, and stay with her, and continue their Bonnie and Clyde crime spree until they were likely forced to give it up and get real jobs (as teenagers, no less) once she found out she was pregnant? She’d have never gone to jail, August would never have gotten a chance to call the cops that fateful night. Neal wouldn’t have ever met Tamara, that harpy shrew. Shit, maybe he’d still be alive. He sighed, playing with one of Emma’s loopy blonde curls, tugging it like a bell. Then he leaned up a bit to kiss her mouth. A memorable Christmas present for her, yeah, he’d come up with one. “But I’ll still find something almost as good as a slushie maker - maybe a fondue set,” he winked, though clearly he was kidding. “Are we even fondue people?” Probably not. There were so many things that could’ve been done differently, Emma knew that if they could’ve rewritten things they would’ve. Trusting people was a gamble, and they’d made a few wrong gambles between them, and while it hurt for a while, their real lives helped to soothe portions of that. Even if Emma was sure she’d never be able to forgive Zelena for anything. Stroking at the side of Neal’s jaw, Emma leaned into the kiss with a smile, pressing a few more to Neal’s cheek as he asked about fondue, even as she smiled at the notion of Emma even managing to not screw up melted cheese goop. “I’m not sure if we’re fondue people.” Emma did like her cheese, but usually melted on bread, less so as a dip. “Unless it’s chocolate fondue, no one is not a chocolate fondue person.” Although maybe when you had to clean out the machine it was less great and all that. “Maybe we should get a hot tub.” Because that was the logical leap from fondue. “Really?” Hey, now there was an idea. They had the space for one here at the house, didn’t they? And it seemed silly to not have one in California - sure, it got hotter than hell here sometimes, but that was just an aside. Point is, after a long and often backbreaking day at the ranch, a soak to soothe those sore muscles in a hot tub sounded pretty perfect. “Why don’t we do it? We could pick out our own joint Christmas gift to each other,” he said. “Might have to renovate the porch a little, but...” It could be done. Maybe then Henry would stop asking for a pool at Regina’s house, to give her some respite. His hands rubbed up and down Emma’s back, as his grin turned a little bit suggestive. Muahahahah. “As long as you promise we can christen the thing, and make fun uses of the jets.” “It’s a good investment,” and really it would be rather nice to have something to relax tired muscles in sometimes, “A little update at the porch, put in a nice hot tub, reap the rewards.” Yeah, Henry would love it too, but the adults could indulge. Which she knew Neal was going to when he got that suggestive look about him. “Oh, that was most certainly a given. Private hot tub, all our own? We’ll be making the best of that the moment we can.” They were making no more babies at the moment, and Emma had taken the needed steps to ensure than for a few months, but they most certainly shouldn’t get out of practice, needed to use all the time they had wisely. “We’re officially geniuses.” "Officially,” Neal concurred - because deciding to get a hot tub was like a certified stamp of intelligence. They may as well just join MENSA at this rate. “Geniuses, and exhausted,” he had to add, because a yawn pretty much cut off his statement there. The perils of being parents, especially to a kid who couldn’t wipe his own butt yet - it really did sap the energy, didn’t it? It was like, close to 10:00 and Neal was so ready for bed. He was honestly surprised he was even still awake right now. “I could fall asleep here. Just lie here. I’m sure Niko crying will get us up in a few hours,” he mumbled. Also the thing about having a baby - bravely entering that stage where you found sleep anywhere you could get it, in any spot, any position. “Or,” and Neal had a point there, sometimes just sleeping where they fell was the best plan because at least that way they got some sleep for a while. Niko was better sure, he wasn’t up every four hours demanding to be fed with sharp wails that only little babies can make, but he still wasn’t sleeping a full night. One of them would be up at some point to settle the baby, so making the most of it was almost a mission. “Or, we can finish up the wine, clear away my mess and go upstairs to that fantastically comfortable bed, smother ourselves with blankets and cuddle.” She tried to put a sultry spin on it. Realistically there was nothing strenuous happening tonight -exhausting days that ended before eleven usually indicated that they’d be lucky to get stripped before falling asleep. Cuddling was probably as sexy as it was getting for just now. Man, there went Emma with another one of those genius ideas. Neal was all for cuddling, sexy or otherwise - and while doing the do was always fun, sometimes it was nice to just doze off with his sleepy fiancee in his arms. “You make a compelling argument,” and then executive decision made - the blankets awaited them. Finishing off his glass of wine, he brought both his and Emma’s along with the bottle to the kitchen. Wouldn’t take long to clean up, and he’d let her take care of her lists - he was pretty sure he could remember what they decided to get their loved ones, so that was set. They just had, oh, about a thousand wedding things to plan next? “Now to faceplant in bed,” he said, slinking close to Emma and sliding an arm around her shoulders. “You’re my favorite cuddling partner.” She thought it was a good compromise, at least until someone needed to get the baby. Snuggles in bed were better than sleeping where they fell. The lists were stacked up in order, placed on the coffee table under her other wedding planning stuff, she had so many magazines about cakes and dresses and the nicest fonts for invitations -because that was apparently a thing. “Aw, it’s because I’m so good at it. And I’m still a little squishy.” In good ways. Bouncing back from pregnant to not pregnant when you adored food was a complex balancing act that Emma had not fully given her attention to just yet -maybe after Christmas, when there were dresses to think about. Until then, she’d eat lots and call it storing energy for mothering. “And neither of us have overly cold feet, it’s like we’re meant to be snuggle-buddies.” Honestly, a glass and a half of wine and she was mushy about feet temperatures. “Meant to be, definitely,” his smile was lopsided and lethargic. “In more ways than one, I’d argue. Glad you don’t think my feet are hunks of ice, babe.” Neal thought that Emma looked good too, no complaints there, post-birthing squishiness or not - mostly it just seemed like her boobs were bigger? Which made sense. Also meant he sometimes was afflicted with milk-in-the-face during sexytimes, but he gathered that was just a common snafu with new parents getting it on. Up the stairs he went, and when he got to their room he basically faceplanted in the bed. It hadn’t even been made from this morning, but who cared. They had to take their winks where they could get them and besides, with what was no doubt going to be a snowy winter on the horizon? This was just cuddling practice for the future. |