Work To Do (twitfic)
Title: Work To Do
Author: confetticas
Rating: PG
Genre and/or Pairing: Adam/Michael, kid!fic, fluff
Spoilers: none
Warnings: mpreg
Disclaimer: not mine
Word Count: 523
Summary: Adam and Michael tell their daughter she'll be getting a baby sister in a few months.
Note: written in about 20 minutes for bballgirl3022, after too much caffeine at 2am. My apologies for any glaring mistakes, lol.
Also, guys, look! I finished something! Hopefully this sticks around tomorrow so I can finish birthday fic which is now late. Sorry 'bout that, bellacatbee, I promise I'm working on it. *hugs*
Emma frowns, bright blue eyes bouncing back and forth between her fathers for several minutes after their announcement. “A boy baby or a girl baby?” she finally asks, looking thoughtful, but mostly accepting.
Michael chuckles warmly, relief dancing in his eyes. Adam tries to keep his own relief relatively hidden. “A girl,” Michael tells their daughter affectionately. “A baby sister.”
“When do we get her?” Emma demands, looking slightly panicked now.
Adam stifles a laugh and answers, “About eight, nine months from now.”
Emma considers this, and sighs in relief. “Good,” she says firmly. “We’ve got a lot of work to do before she gets here,” she adds, staring at them sternly. “No slacking off. Everything has to be perfect.”
“…what has to be perfect?” Adam asks, grinning so hard it hurts. His daughter is amazing and wonderful, and sometimes a little bit too much like both of her dads.
Emma’s eyes widen in alarm. “Dad!” she protests, horrified. “She has to have a room, and we have to make the house safe, and we need clothes and a crib and blankets and -”
“Breathe, baby girl,” Michael pats Emma’s back, sounding vastly amused. “It isn’t as hard as it seems, and we still have your old crib.”
Emma looks appalled. “She needs her own crib, papa!” she objects. “And you aren’t thinking, we have work to do, stop laughing at me!” Emma puts her hands on her hips and glares at them. “This is not a laughing matter. Dad, Papa needs to rest, and you and I need to start planning,” she informs Adam commandingly.
Adam sniggers, “Well, you heard the girl, Michael. Go rest.”
“I am not laughing, Adam,” Michael says flatly, though his eyes are sparkling in delighted amusement. “Emma, Daddy’s picking on me.”
Emma’s eyes narrow. “Daddy,” she warns Adam sternly. “Papa’s pregnant. You can’t pick on him while he’s pregnant.”
“This is a rule? When did this become a rule?” Adam asks, a little alarmed, but still grinning.
Michael scoffs. “Eight years ago, Adam.”
“But - ” Adam cuts himself off, grin widening. “All right. I’m sorry, Michael,” he says, oozing fake sincerity. “You’re right, Emma. Papa shouldn’t have to worry about anything while he’s pregnant. Why don’t you go get some rest? Emma and I will start planning.”
Michael studies Adam intently, trying to figure out the plot.
“I’ll bring you dinner in bed and everything,” Adam adds, eyes sparkling. “Don’t worry. You won’t have to do anything around the house until the baby’s born.”
“…oh, you - ” Michael cuts himself off as Adam throws a pointed glance in Emma’s direction.
Emma looks positively thrilled, pulling paper and colored pencils out of a drawer and setting to work, no longer interested in talking to her fathers. She has a slight obsession with making lists, and Adam is honestly almost terrified to find out what she’s planning. “Isn’t she an angel?” Adam teases his mate in quiet glee.
Michael mutters something unflattering towards Adam and throws himself onto the couch a little melodramatically. “Yes,” he adds loudly. “Emma’s an angel. You, on the other hand…”
Adam just grins, smug.