Adora had been hoping she would get a turn to go back to the past. Catra had come back absolutely elated after spending three days with Adora at twenty-three and Finn at not-quite five months old. It had been so long since they were a pudgy little furball, so long since Adora had held a baby at all.
Then she woke up beside her wife, twenty years younger, in a quiet ship. The walls of their room were nearly barren compared to the time she had come from, and Finn was still sleeping soundly in their co-sleeper on Catra’s side of the bed. Adora hugged her wife close to kiss her softly, on the cheek, then the temple, before releasing her, intending to let her sleep a little bit longer. She knew however long it had been had to have been a whirlwind – mostly because she knew her girls, and the handfuls they were on a daily basis.
With that in mind, she slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Catra and Finn. She pulled out a pair of warm, fluffy socks and tossed a robe over her tank top and shorts before making her way down the hall to the room the girls would be sharing. As they’d grown older back home, they’d expanded to their own rooms, but in a time not their own, she knew they’d prefer to stay together.
The doors to the old nursery opened with a soft whoosh. The room hadn’t been done up the way Catra had designed yet; that was a project for the future, when the twins came to be. Instead, in the middle of the room was the same queen-sized bed that resided in each of the guest suites, with her two girls sprawled across it together, still sleeping soundly.
“Babies,” she cooed, padding inside and crouching beside Mara’s side of the bed. She trailed her fingers gently down her daughter’s arm. “Time to wake up, my sweet girls. Mama’s here.”
The twins weren’t facing one another, but their tails were interlocked; a habit they deliberately engaged in as kittens, little giggling misfits that clung to one another, that sometimes spoke in funny noises as if they had made up their own language. It all ebbed with age as they tried to become independent of one another, figuring out who they were and who they wanted to be. But, nonetheless, they were sisters, born together and sides of the same coin.
One moon, one sun.
Mara murred softly, cheek scenting the pillow as she woke. Sleepy eyes blinked open, and she saw her mother like she’d seen her these past few days – except this was her mother, the mama of her time in the age she knew, the one who knew them more than anything. “Are we back?” she asked tiredly, squinting up at her.
“Mara, shhhhhhh,” mumbled Hope from the other side, pulling the blanket over her head.
Adora chuckled lowly, glancing over at Hope acting as she typically did. She was always the tougher to wake, more like Catra in that she was adamantly against intentionally getting up early. Unless the time started with an eight, Hope wasn’t getting out of bed unless she was dragged. Mara was a little more amenable in that regard; even now, she was stirring awake, confused but aware.
“You’re not back, sweetie,” Adora told her with a gentle shake of her head. “But I’m here for a little while now, too.” She raised her hand to stroke Mara’s cheek and smiled at her. “I just wanted to see you.”
Mara said nothing at first. Her brain was rebooting, doing its best to reconcile with the current setting. Still in the past, but with their version of a present mama - who had come to her first and not Hope, but Hope was also a butt to wake up, so. Maybe she shouldn’t feel so special about that. “Does the mom from here know?”
“Maraaaaa,” whined her sister, rolling over to add her weight on top of Mara to be annoying. “I’m still slee–” Hold up. “Mama? Mama, but – Mama?”
Those droopy ears from slumber shot up. Hope was wide awake with a look that said I’m about to be five years old again and tackle you. Instead, she went with: “Do you like my hair??”
“Hi, Hopey,” Adora grinned, reaching out to ruffle her little girl’s hair. “You look great. But no,” she looked back at Mara. “Mom here doesn’t know yet. I thought I’d let her and baby Finn sleep in since I know you girls have been running her ragged since you got here.”
She remembered the girls being here. Not as vividly as her twenty-three year old self would for quite some time, but having Darla filled to the brim with twin energy had only solidified for her and Catra that this family was exactly what they wanted back then – back now, whatever. It wouldn’t come to be for a long time still, but a little taste of what to expect had filled them with all kinds of mushy feelings.
Frankly, having three beautiful kids still filled her with mushy feelings, to the surprise of not a single person that knew her.
“Do you girls want to help me get the house moving and go pick up some breakfast and coffee for Mom?”
Hope let out a wide, scratchy yawn before replying. “Yeahhhhh, I could definitely eat.”
“What if mom needs help with Finn?” grunted Mara, trapped beneath the weight of her sister but she was beginning to push her away – and Hope was pliant enough to move, beginning to perk up with some plans being laid out. “Shouldn’t we–”
“Mommy stayed home with us when we were babies too,” Hope pointed out. “She’ll be fine. They’re always saying how easy Finn was compared to us.”
Mara seemed to accept that argument without further issue, but she did sit up abruptly and watched Adora with an even deeper frown. “Are we going to see young you again?”
“Maraaaa, stop asking questions and let’s gooooooo,” her sister drawled, kicking off the covers to find a sweatshirt to put on. It was her mama’s Kenough rainbow sweatshirt.
Adora let Hope get herself up and ready, keeping her focus on Mara for the moment. The youngest was always a little unsure, a little more careful, filled with more questions and worries than her sister. She was more thoughtful, like her mom, less impulsive, like her mama. Adora loved that about her, loved looking at their baby girl and seeing this beautiful, soft side of her wife in her.
“I think you’re stuck with just me ‘til the end, baby,” Adora informed her with an exaggerated, regretful pout. “Does that mean you didn’t miss me?” She reached out and tickled her fingers playfully up the youngest’s side.
Mara made a familiar mrrrrrp noise and swatted Adora’s hand away. Whatever her response was about to be was dwarfed by Hope, always the unintentional bulldozer (but she always meant well, poor thing). “We missed you, duh, and we miss our rooms! But this whole thing is pretty cool. I can’t wait to tell Finn we had to wipe their ass because they can’t do it themselves.”
“You kept gagging when you changed a poop diaper,” her sister deadpanned, getting off the bed to nab a sweater that was her mom’s – definitely not something colorful like what Hope had. This was more stylish (at least to her) and dark in color.
“Still changed it,” Hope puffed proudly, hands on her hips for a bonafide superhero pose.
“You look like your Aunt Kara in that pose,” Adora chuckled, standing up and giving the girls room to get ready. As soon as they were prepared to brave the outside world, she looked at them both and extended her arms. “Now, do I get hugs, or are you gonna leave me suffering?”
Hope was the first to do it. She was always the biggest sucker for her mama – in her eyes, anything she said (mostly) went, and she went to give her a big squeeze. Mara lagged behind her a bit, not rushing on throwing on clothes for an early errand.
When she did make her way to hug her, there was a purr. Quiet, like it was unintentional and perhaps not meant to be heard, but it was felt. “We should hurry up though,” she said, scrunching up her button nose. “You know mom’s going to get weird if she wakes up and we’re all gone.”
To add to that, Hope whispered loudly: “Her tail’s been extra twitchy.”
Adora squeezed both girls to her for a few moments. She wasn’t surprised that Mara was slower to join, but she was happy nonetheless when she leaned in. She understood their concerns for Catra, too; she remembered just where they were in time, and while the specifics of most of it escaped her, those false disappearance notifications had stayed with them for a long time. Twenty years later, their fear of disappearing was next to none, but it had never been stronger at this particular point in time.
She doubted Hope and Mara knew the full details, and she wasn’t going to share it with them now. But it was clear they’d noticed the little signs of lingering distress Catra was displaying. Adora didn’t want her wife waking up in fear again either.
“We’ll leave Mom a note. We can tuck in with Finn, so she can’t miss it. Sound good?”
Mara was on it. Her penmanship was miles better than her sister’s – something Hope didn’t argue with, she just shrugged – and she insisted she leave the note, too. Finn still slept, their mouth hanging open cutely, and her mom was out, curled up on her side and soundless. They were left behind undisturbed.
It had been a good plan. When Catra woke without the presence of her wife in their bed, her first inclination was to check her phone for a dreaded list but there was a little note spotted in the co-sleeper, a heart drawn on it that caught her attention. Hope and I are getting breakfast with Mama to bring back. We know your favorite. ❤ See you soon, it said, the writing cute and bubbly. It let her breathe out in relief. Had her a little pouty too, she would have gone with them! Did they think she needed extra sleep or something?
(She did, actually, need extra sleep. Everything was chaos, Halloween was wild and being a fucking milk supply was exhausting but she’d argue, tiredly and grumpily, that she could handle some sleep deprivation.)
She readied herself and Finn for the day, fresh clothes for them to wear and hair brushed; hers was somewhat tamed into a bun and this baby had a lot on their head to gently comb through. They’d been fitted into a pumpkin onesie with a little hood, chubby legs out in the open to marvel at, and she thought they’d at least be back by the time they made it to the living room.
“I can’t believe they left without us,” Catra grumbled, settling down on the blankets they kept out in the living room for Finn to play on. She had them in against a boppy pillow for back support, but overall they sat up well. Their little hands were in hers, and she was making them dance. “Isn’t that the rudest? Do you miss them too?”
Finn giggled. The elevators began to whurr, and she heard the sound of the doors open. Catra didn’t look over her shoulder to greet them – Finn was being too cute. “I think that’s them,” she whispered loudly. “Scream at them. Tell them they’re rude and that we have opinions.”
Adora let the girls rush in ahead of her when they returned home, knowing they would provide enough distraction for a few moments to keep her a surprise. She carried, honestly, the majority of the takeout from their favorite little restaurant in the forest – the one she and Marlena had made frequent stops at back in these days, jogging from Darla to a destination, just like she and Richie always had. The girls had come home with their choice of caffeinated drinks, and Adora had all the food, which she set out on the coffee table for later distribution.
Once she’d pulled off her boots, she dropped down casually at Catra’s side and draped an arm around her waist, the other hand reaching out for Finn’s tiny little hand.
“Tell Mama alllll your opinions, baby,” she cooed. “I’m sure your mommy’s filling your head with all kinds of nonsense, huh?”
Mara and Hope were rattling on about something; they were talking fast, engaged in a debate about some show that didn’t exist in Vallo just yet. Catra managed to squeeze in a greeting, frowning when she only got a quick hi mom before they went at it again. No hug? Nothing???
Her shoulders slumped a little.
Adora wouldn’t fail her, though. She heard her wife shuffle behind her anyway. Then she felt her weight when she sat next down beside her, arm around her waist, and she turned her head to kiss her when–
“Oh,” she squeaked, blinking wide, her cheeks flaming. How the fuck did she manage to do this a second time to her? Catra’s seen her wife aged before, she was very hot, it was fine and expected so could someone just please dump a bucket of ice water on her right now?
“Hi there,” Adora grinned, leaning in despite Catra’s pause and kissing her. She even let linger a little, despite the presence of their kids, because a flustered Catra was something she always enjoyed. It didn’t happen as often anymore with her wife in her time, and she wanted to savor it. She liked to think it meant Hot Future Adora had arrived; she had become that person her younger self had wanted so desperately to live up to in this time, much more naturally than she ever would have imagined.
Oh, that wasn’t fair. The next sound Catra made wasn’t very audible, she was pretty sure she was the only one that heard it and - okay, maybe Adora heard it too. It was kind of a whine, short and soft, breath hitching as she finally kissed her back for those last two seconds.
“Dude, Finn doesn’t need to see this,” Hope said in offense, her heated banter with Mara having finally died. “You guys literally saw each other last night! In both timelines!”
Her sister shook her head and reached for their baby sibling, gently lifting them from the blankets. “Are you guys okay with us giving them some baby food for breakfast? I know we have mushy avocado.”
“Yep,” Catra replied immediately, that p popped at the end. Her eyes were fixated on Adora right now. She’d apologize to the kids later.
Hope and Mara were good girls, and in any other situation, Adora would have smiled and thanked them for taking on that responsibility. But right now, she was too focused on her wife, who was focused right back on her. Their connection had never died out, but there was an extra crackle right now that meant breakfast might be waiting a few more minutes. She would never subject their kids to too much, but they could deal with some kissing, no matter how much Hope protested.
“How are you?” She reached up to twirl her finger through a loose strand of hair framing Catra’s face and just kept smiling at her. “I know the girls have added some unexpected madness, so I thought I’d let you and Finn sleep in.”
Their high chair was in the kitchen, which meant all the kids disappeared into the kitchen and that was… fine, yeah. Mara proved to have impeccable baby-sitting skills. Hope was there to help. Finn was taken care of. She could have a few (or several) minutes to get feisty with this older version of her wife.
“You’re an asshole for not waking me up,” Catra replied hotly, slipping her hand up cup the back of Adora’s neck. She was so – mmf. And seeing her was so – relieving, almost like the dreaded fear of her being taken away from this place was put to rest. The twins helped. This was better. “We could have cuddled, you know.”
Adora got kissed this time, harder, because Catra was a ridiculous brat but it was all love.
Both of Adora’s arms wrapped around Catra now, leaning into that kiss without hesitation. With a few tugs and lifts, she got her up into her lap, too, giving her the slightest height advantage. Enough so that when the kiss broke, Adora tipped her chin up to look into those beautiful mismatched eyes she’d loved a whole forty years now. Catra would never cease to be the most beautiful being she’d ever seen, at any age.
“I’m here for a couple days,” she assured her softly. “We’ll have plenty of cuddle time, I promise. I wanted to be nice and get you breakfast. You got to do that for me, but I haven’t gotten to do it for you.”
That was Catra’s first experience with a future version of her – waking up to breakfast being made in Darla’s kitchen, before Adora proposed, when the existence of Finn was still brand new information and in the form of a little five year old. But this version of Adora hadn’t gotten that experience. She would never have that exactly, not with how much things had changed since their first year in Vallo.
“I love you breakfast or no breakfast, dummy,” she whispered, cinching Adora’s waist with her knees and squeezing, hands on her face to look at her. Catra could never forget the first time she saw her wife like this; faded scars, the extra lines that popped up when she smiled, or that cute little furrow of brows she did when she thought too hard. She was beautiful. “You’re so–wow, you know?”
Maybe Catra was getting a little choked up with emotion, too. This was the third version of her wife that she’d met from a future timeline, and she loved her like the others — and also loved her present-time Adora, young and apprehensive and perfect. Time kept shifting but they remained constant. In every version, they had each other.
It was pretty impossible to not have feelings about that.
“Told you,” a sniff, a teasing smile that felt unsteady, “that you’d end up being Hot Older Adora. My Oldora.”
“Oh, you’ll never let that die,” Adora murmured, wrapping her arms around Catra’s back and kissing her forehead. Even in her time, when they were the same age (only a few months’ difference, thank you), Catra would tease her by calling her Oldora here and there. Unfortunately, she never got her much-wanted revenge; Oldtra just ended up sounding like ultra, and that wasn’t really much of an insult, was it?
“You’re wow yourself, by the way.” Her lips moved to the bridge of Catra’s nose, then the tip. “You’re always very wow.” She kissed Catra’s left cheek, then her right. It was a lot of affection, but Catra deserved it, putting up with their girls for so long while Finn was still an infant. She remembered how overwhelming it had all felt.
Catra basked in the attention. She missed her this morning, and she obviously missed her babyfaced Adora, too – but this was a treat. It was still her. “Mmhm,” she purred absently, nuzzling into the side of her face, inhaling her scent. Caffeine and food could wait.
She could hear the girls with Finn from their spot. Quiet giggling, Mara trying to direct Hope in helping her take off the pumpkin onesie, and: “The bibs are over there, Hope, they’re gonna be messy!”
The sound of their youngest – well, not their youngest right now, but their youngest down the road – broke the spell. Catra frowned, pulling away to get a good look at Adora’s face. “Hey. So what’s the deal with Mara?” she asked, keeping the volume of her voice low. “Present-you had a bit of an incident with her. It stressed her out, and I know you wouldn’t actually play favorites.”
No, not after what they endured. Catra trusted Adora completely in that regard, one hundred percent, but she still had to ask.
Adora hadn’t expected to have to cease the attention she was smattering Catra with just yet. She’d planned on her wife having to grab her by the back of the neck and pull her away to stop her. And there was pulling away alright, but it was for a reason that threw Adora for a good loop. She stared for a moment, mouth half open and a furrowed brow making her confusion obvious. That was not a subject change she’d seen coming.
For about a half a second, she considered playing dumb. She remembered how anxious she had been in this particular situation, and she didn’t know if shining more light on it would do any good. She was trying to remember what Catra had said to her in this time, when she’d come back to her normal age after this visit. But it was fuzzy.
“I don’t play favorites,” was how she started. And she sounded very sure of that. She worried sometimes, even still, that she did, unintentionally. But she would never. She couldn’t bear to do that. She loved every one of their kids with everything in her heart, and she could never choose just one of them as her favorite in any way.
That said…
“Mara and I just… We’ve been struggling to connect since she’s gotten a little older and started having more independent hobbies,” she admitted. She tried. She really tried. She always picked up whatever book Mara was interested in and read it, too, so she could talk about it. She paid attention to the shows and movies she watched, so she could try them, too. It just wasn’t always a match.
“Hope and I get along a little easier because she wants to be active and sporty. But I promise you, I would never choose a favorite. I love Mara so much, just as much as Hope. I love her for her differences from me.”
Catra hummed, nodding as she swiped her thumbs over her cheeks, admiring – but also mainly listening, since she was trying to get a better understanding of the whole thing. The twins were teenagers. They were frustrating, and oftentimes frustrated themselves as they tried to navigate those awkward years right before adulthood. She had an inkling that Mara’s perception of things was skewed. She wouldn’t discount her feelings, no, but she saw where she was definitely oversensitive.
Hope took things in stride. Catra could tell not a lot bothered her – like, you know, leaving a mostly empty container of orange juice in the fridge and the mess she was constantly making rummaging through Adora’s clothes. Mara was more conscious of her actions, but she took a lot of things personally.
It was definitely all a learning experience of what to expect.
“Finn’s probably insisting they’re the favorite anyway,” Catra guessed jokingly. “That’s kinda what I figured, though. It’s like she’s trying to cling to you and doesn’t know how at this age, but she looks at you like you’d protect her from anything. They both do.”
“I would,” Adora agreed, a touch of fierceness in her tone. She knew Catra knew that, but she wanted to make it clear. Their kids were everything to her. Her relationships with all three of them had their ups and their downs, and while that had been tough at first, she had adjusted. Those ups and downs just came with being a parent. She’d helped get one kid through to adulthood (in so much as Finn could be considered an adult; they were barely in their twenties and forever still a baby to her). They’d get the other two through, too.
“Should I talk to her, do you think? She’s been in an okay mood this morning. I don’t want to ruin it by bringing this up with her.”
“I don’t know,” Catra whispered, eyes darting towards the kitchen and then back at her wife. Her ears dipped down, sheepish. “You know her better than I do. When I touched base with her she was–okay, I think,” she continued carefully. “We didn’t go into it specifically, but we painted a canvas together?”
Mara didn’t have the same complex over her that she had with Adora, so she assumed Mara felt secure with her. That was nice, she guessed. She just hated that her daughter felt insecure over Adora, who never had a problem showing the people around how much she loved them.
“I think some extra attention later would be nice. I can distract Hope. She kind of horns herself in on things when Mara tries to talk to you. That kid is you, for fuck’s sake.”
A soft smile crossed Adora’s lips and she nodded. Hope had somehow become her mini-me. They were two peas in a pod, and she understood how that was tough on Mara sometimes. But she was in a phase right now where nothing Adora did to attempt to close that gap seemed quite good enough. She would keep on trying, but she didn’t push herself on Mara; it didn’t seem like any more helpful of a tactic.
“I think that’s a good plan for later,” she agreed. Hopefully some reassurance and quality time with this version of her that she knew, the parent she’d actually grown up with, would help ease any of Mara’s lingering bad feelings. It was really a toss-up but worth a shot. “Right now, we should eat breakfast before it starts going cold.”
“I was going to make a very filthy joke,” Catra admitted, cocking an eyebrow at her oh so scandalously, “but the ship’s full of kids and knowing our luck, they’d overhear it.” Hope and Mara had some comments about how lovey they were – but they also let them know it wasn’t any different in the future, and that had her melting.
She gave Adora a sweet kiss on the lips, not making an effort to get up, because: “Show me your super MILF strength and pick me up, princess.”
“Super MILF strength?” Adora repeated with a grin and raised eyebrows. “Has anyone ever told you that you have high expectations of me, Mrs. Rainbowfist-Meowmeow?” Still, she did exactly as she was told – with one arm secure around Catra’s waist, she pushed the opposite hand into the rug and pushed herself to her feet, shifting her arm when she was steady to hold Catra bridal style.
“Not as swift as I once was,” she huffed playfully. It was a little true, loathe as she was to admit it. At forty-four, the aches and pains were catching up with her more than she’d like. She was still far from out of shape or unhealthy, and her healing still saved her from any unexpected stabbings and the like. But she was aging, and it showed.
There was definitely a difference in the way this Adora scooped her up versus a twenty-something year old Adora. There was this bittersweet ache about it. “I did wonder if you were going to pick me up like this even when you're a frail old lady,” Catra teased softly, wondering if that comment had crossed their lives down the years too. She remembered the first time it had – during an early-morning trash fire thanks to the appearance of those robes, when they were fiancees and not wives.
Catra kissed her again, and that was when Hope came in to collect all the stuff from the coffee table. She sighed.
“I’m never getting married.”
“But it’s fun,” Catra countered, not sparing her daughter a glance just so she could grin at Adora.
“It’s very fun,” Adora confirmed with an identical grin. She did, however, set Catra on her feet, then gently grasped her face before she leaned down to kiss her softly. “I’ll pick you up like that ‘til the end of time. Even if I break a hip in the process.”
Adora kept Catra’s attention, and she was giving her this soft and impish look, whispering out a small, “promise?” before leaning up for another kiss, until –
“Enough, mommy,” Hope grabbed her shorter mother by the arm, pulling her away (there was a yelp of protest and a flailing arm) to lead them towards the kitchen. “You’re missing Finn going to town with avocado! Mama, hurry up.”
“Can we not have a moment?”
“I love you, but you’ve been having moments since we were born. Since before that!”
“Hope,” Adora intoned, fondly exasperated. She nearly cut in, but Catra could handle herself just fine against their bossy little girl. She shook her head, turning to scoop up the breakfast bags off the coffee table to bring them to the kitchen. It was time for family breakfast, and she was going to soak up every moment she got.
Finn was strapped in their high chair, pumpkin onesie removed, bib around their neck – Mara watched her mothers closely when they did this, she knew. The purees at this age were supplemental and for them to start getting a taste of real food. So far these have been more fun, messy experiments that yielded a lot of pictures.
They also didn’t have the coordination to spoon feed themselves, so Mara was in control of the utensil and ready to offer. Finn’s face was already smeared in mushy green food, their body slightly tilted to the right since sitting up straight was sometimes a struggle.
“They keep trying to gnaw on the spoon,” Mara giggled.
Catra approached Mara, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “Hoping that means we’re going to see teeth poke out of their gums soon. Thanks, by the way. You should pick up some babysitting gigs when you go back – you’re good at this.”
Hope helped Adora open up the bags, pulling out the breakfast sandwiches and boxes of side dishes. “We should pick up babysitting gigs!”
“You put Finn’s diaper on backwards yesterday,” Mara pointed out at her twin, rolling her eyes.
“But it was on, wasn’t it?”
“Your sister’s right, Hope,” Adora chimed in, smiling over at Mara while she worked diligently to feed baby Finn. She was half-preoccupied herself, as she and Hope emptied out the breakfast food across the kitchen table so they could all sit down together and eat. “The way the diaper goes on is important. Maybe your mom and I will get you practicing on dolls if you really want to babysit when we go home.”
Once the table was set to her satisfaction (and she was very particular, even all these years later), she turned to grab hold of Hope by the shoulders and usher her into her spot. “Come on, let’s eat before we’re giving the microwave a workout!”
“The pee and poop goes in the same place though,” Hope mumbled to herself, and that wasn’t the point at all but she was also fourteen (as Catra had to remind herself with their quirks a lot).
Finn, though, spotted Adora. Their little brows furrowed, eyes on her intently, and then they began to whine.
Then that whine began to make their lips wobble.
And the whining, paired with the wobbly lips, led them to cry. It wasn’t loud, they weren’t screaming, but they just looked so sad that Catra had to stop herself from that first euphoric sip of her coffee. “Adora. You haven’t held them yet.”
It was funny to see Finn so little and yet so much the same, in some ways. Their little diva at home was dramatic and emotional, and sometimes she forgot it had started when they were this tiny little thing. Of course she was helpless against that sad little face, and the pout in particular tugged hard at her heartstrings. Before she could even consider sitting down, she was up and crouching beside Mara in front of Finn’s high chair.
“It’s okay, baby,” she cooed, reaching out to smooth her hand across the littlest one’s freshly brushed mane of She-Ra blonde. “Mama’s right here. So’s Mara, look! Don’t you want some more avocado?”
There was a fat, single tear that rolled down their chubby cheek. Their lips kept trembling. Mara looked a little panicked, but tried to play along with a tentative, “We can do an airplane? Does that work on them?”
“Not yet,” Catra told her, squeezing in next to Hope who immediately began digging into her breakfast. “Get them out of the high chair, babe. Clean their face first. I think they just want you.”
Mara attempted another spoonful of avocado, and Finn slapped it.
“Ooookay, that’s enough of that.” It was really just luck that the slapped avocado didn’t splatter all over Mara. Finn was clearly grumpy and had one thing they wanted – Adora just happened to be that one thing. She lifted their bib to clean their face, and said to Mara, “Go ahead and sit down, sweetie, I’ll take care of grumpy pants here.”
She straightened up and reached around Finn’s neck to unhook the bib, then scoop them into her arms to put over her shoulder. “Oh, you’re so little. It’s been such a long time,” she murmured, rubbing their back and gently rocking them and pacing the floor in front of the table. “Is this what you wanted?”
Catra had Mara’s food opened up for her by the time she sat, the literal least she could do considering this kid sometimes felt like she was more in her thirties than in her teens. Then she let herself be captivated by the sight of Adora, cradling the baby version of their first born. Too cute not to watch, fuck. She was nothing but a simp. Finn settled against her, head on her shoulder, and their response to her words was the start of a purr.
“Oh god,” Hope began around a mouthful of hashbrowns. “Mama’s going to have baby fever when she gets back.”
Mara pulled her avocado toast in half, pouting a little. “Can’t I just stay the baby?”
“You’re always going to be the baby,” sighed Catra, leaning back into the booth. “But we’re outnumbered – no.”
“I know, I know,” Adora sighed out. She and the Catra-of-her-time had come to an agreement: no more kids right now. They had entertained the possibility of fostering and adopting, but the girls were still teens. They weren’t total empty nesters, even with Finn off the ship, and they didn’t know how they’d feel when the girls followed suit. Honestly, she tried not to think about it. One of her babies was already on their own; she was in no hurry for the other two to leave her, too.
“And you are always going to be the baby,” she confirmed, smiling down at Mara while she rocked their purring little one. “Nothing’s going to change that.”
“Come sit,” Catra beckoned with the crook of her finger, the spot next to her empty and needing to be filled. “Finn can sit in our laps and Hope’s been eyeing your food since she sat down.”
Hope protested with another mouthful, some of the food actually falling out as her manners were, uh, lacking sometimes. “Nuh-uh,” she huffed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “I was just, like, I don’t know, maybe going to try a bite.”
“Napkin, Hopey,” Adora chastised her. She remembered her own table manners being atrocious as a teenager. But in complete fairness, she’d had no reason to have any until leaving the Horde at barely-eighteen. Ration bars didn’t require plateware, cutlery, or anything else like that. She’d learned quickly, though, determined not to always eat like a hungry animal in front of Angella. She tried to pass on better to their kids.
She sank down into the spot beside Catra, at her wife’s command, and settled in close so Finn could share their laps. Their hands were bound to get in the way – she remembered them being a little food thief as soon as they worked out how to grab – but she could work around them. She may be rusty dealing with babies, but she remembered.
Ah, better. Catra was grinning when Adora sat – really, just a step below fucking beaming – as she was that elated to share the burden of having a cute baby sprawled across their thighs. Finn got a little kiss to the forehead, their cheeks dried by the gentle swipe of her thumbs, before it was her wife’s turn. It started out as one lingering kiss to the cheek before it became a few kisses.
Hope gestured at all of them with a strip of bacon (after pointedly not getting a napkin per her mother’s instruction, whoops). “You know,” she seriously began, like she was about to bestow some great sage advice upon them all, “this actually isn’t the weirdest family breakfast we’ve had despite most of us being time travelers.”
Mara agreed casually. “It’s not.”
“Do I – want to know?” Catra frowned, brows furrowed.
“Nope,” replied the twins in unison.
“Stop trying to scare your mother, you two,” Adora laughed, shaking her head. She turned to look at Hope again and said, “Napkin,” in a stern tone that said she was not to be messed with. “I hope they haven’t been filling you up with too many spoilers. Some things are meant to be experienced without warning.”
With that, she grinned at her wife and kissed her cheek, not letting anything slip about that ‘weirdest family breakfast’ the girls were hinting at. She knew just what they meant, and despite her gentle scolding, she liked teasing Catra a bit, too.
Hope made a noise at that tone, snatching up a napkin to wipe her face. Mara giggled, and Catra looked at her wife with an upturned nose. “I’m feeling left out right now,” she grumbled. “But for the sake of preserving the timeline or what the fuck ever–”
“Swear jar,” Hope butted in before ramming all that bacon in her mouth.
“–I’ll allow it,” Catra finished, ignoring the swear jar comment. A tiny future Finn had mentioned such a thing; they must have a giant one to accommodate her failures.
“How are we maintaining the swear jar, by the way?” Adora inquired, looking between the twins. “Did you guys make one for Mom here, or are we making Mom in our time pay for this one’s sins?” She nudged Catra playfully, and boy, she couldn’t wait to hear her older wife’s reaction to that suggestion when they ended up back in their time.
“We’ve been trying to convince her that it’s an investment for our future if she starts one now,” came Mara’s surprisingly cheeky answer, smiling around a bite of her toast.
Hope snatched up her bottle of chocolate milk, ready to wash down that feast she shoved down her throat with hardly an actual chew. “Yeah, for like, vehicles or something. Finn got mommy’s bike and I still don’t think that’s fair. That should have been settled by rock-paper-scissors or something.”
“Finn’s the oldest and the only one of you three who has a driver’s license,” Adora replied easily, taking hold of her croissant with her free hand to take a bite. She chewed for a moment, then pinched a very small piece off to offer to the baby in her lap. “But I agree with Mara, the swear jar should start now. It’ll be good practice for when they’re old enough to call you out. Which they do, frequently.”
Finn’s gums gnawed on Adora, and Catra had to double-check that piece since they were doing only purees right now (lack of teeth and all that), but it was so tiny that it would either dissolve in their mouth, or they’d swallow it fine. “I’m feeling ganged up on,” she scoffed, narrowing her eyes at Adora. “I can’t be the only one responsible for the money that goes in there.”
Mara shrugged. “Most of the time you are.”
“And you guys have never cursed? You’re fourteen, I was telling people to fuck off when I was six.”
“Swear jar.”
Catra threw her free arm into the air. “I’m not speaking to any of you ever again.”
“Whatever you say, babe,” Adora chuckled, leaning in to kiss her wife’s cheek again. She had noticed her tiny offering being double checked, but she didn’t comment; Catra was a hover mom. It was just part of who she was at this stage in their lives, and she didn’t take offense to it the way a younger her might have on a bad day. “We can go out and buy a fancy jar to decorate later on.”
“This is an attack,” Catra huffed the same time as Mara let out a squeak, excitement lighting up every inch of her face. Now she really couldn’t protest, goddamnit.
Hope laid claim on her mom’s other cheek, mouth greasy from bacon and leaving a shiny imprint on her skin. “Awww, we love you too!”
“Oh my god, do you not know how to use a napkin? Adora, Finn duty. C’mere–” Catra snatched up a clean one from the center of the table and went to wipe all of Hope’s face. Her daughter’s response was a scream-squeal mix. “Hold still, you hot mess!”
“Mara, Mama–”
“Nope, you did this to yourself,” Mara supplied unhelpfully.
“Your sister’s right, this is what you get.” Adora nudged Mara’s shoulder with hers and grinned at her. “I taught you to have better table manners than that, and I warned you to use a napkin, didn’t I?”
Look, she may be forty-four with two teenage daughters, and she had calmed down and settled into herself in a lot of ways. But she still loved to win. She suspected that was something that would never die.
“Noooooo,” Hope cried out, absolutely pitiful, and sputtering as Catra wiped off the last bits of grease from the corner of her mouth. The squirming had calmed down and the dabbing was more gentle now that her mother wasn’t wrestling with a total spaz. “You’re embarrassing me, I’m basically an adult.”
Catra snorted. “Not even close.” And don’t grow up too fast, she would have said – but she wasn’t her mommy yet, and having her present in the age she was currently in was a too fast milestone of its own. Hope’s pout made her think of Adora, and she couldn’t help but sigh fondly.
And a little sadly.
“I don’t have a lot of time left with you guys, huh?”
Adora’s gleeful expression melted into something softer when she heard the shift in Catra’s tone. She shifted back so they were half on their mommy’s lap in an attempt to provide some comfort. “A couple days,” she confirmed. She remembered the ache of missing their girls after this, though it had always been accompanied by that wonderful feeling of hope for the future. The sadness would only be temporary.
“But don’t worry,” she continued. “You’ll have a lifetime with us in the future. And now you have something to look forward to and maybe make you feel a little more solid.”
Just as she suspected – a couple of days wasn’t a lot. Hell, these past two weeks were a blur. They’d be out and active, come back home and realize the time and wash, rinse, repeat. This slip in time had been a good one. The best yet.
Because Catra had them all.
She didn’t want to address her insecurities in front of the girls. They might know already, but they were kids and her worries weren’t supposed to be their concern
“Hey Hope, Mara, do you see that? I think it’s – oh my god, it’s a mouse.”
Their heads snapped over to where their mom had gestured at, both girls alarmed and looking around – all while Catra pulled on Adora’s collar, and brought her in for a kiss. “Looking forward to those forty thousand times of marrying you, princess,” she whispered to her amidst the sound of Finn babbling on her lap, amidst the girls going I don’t see anything.
In a second or two they’d turn around and, predictably, groan at them.