Everything About Her (7/13)
Everything About Her (7/13)
Chapter title: Instincts
Rating: R
Summary: A collection of short one-shots that show Lamb's POV during Veronica's pregnancy
Characters/Pairing: Veronica/Lamb (Keith, Wallace, Logan, Sacks)
Spoilers: entire series but AU from 3X14
Word Count: 1122
Disclaimer: I don't own Veronica Mars
A/N: This is a Follow up to my fic 'A Kiss Before Dying' which you should read first. Follow this link to the last chapter which contains links to the whole story: .com/veronica_
This follows the months of Veronica's pregnancy and focuses on certain events or experiences, in no specific order.
Twicloiser89 asked for something dealing with the ex's. So this has a little bit of Logan and then another chapter later has more of him since he's the only real ex we have in this fic.
Instincts:
It takes a lot to prepare for a baby.
You need supplies and Veronica and I don't waste any time accruing all of it.
And even though I'm a guy and it's permanently in tuned in my brain that I'm supposed to hate shopping, I'm beginning to wonder if maybe the bat broke that part, because I don't think I've ever had more fun in my life.
I can spend hours with her in Babies-R-Us picking out little outfits, bottles, toys and cribs or as I like to call it baby paraphernalia. I love all of it, because it's all for our baby.
And when her friends throw her a baby shower, I'm just as excited about the loot as she is. Logan Wallace, Sacks and Keith make fun of me to no end, but I couldn't care less. Because my girl is happy and so am I and that's all that really matters.
But what I find most interesting in the preparation for the arrival of a baby is the instincts that begin to surface.
You know what they don't put in those baby books that they really should? A fucking disclaimer when it comes to assembling the fucking crib.
Warning: May cause you to drink heavily and prematurely gray.
Veronica and I spend 4 hours picking out the perfect furniture for the nursery and when they deliver it, it's all in one piece except the fucking crib. What the fuck is up with that?
But being an able bodied man I set my mind to it and try to put it together, in the middle of my living room. Why I'm doing it before we move into the new house I don't know, but for some reason I just feel the need to show off my fathering skills and building our kid's bed seems to be the way to do it.
For the first 30 minutes Veronica is curled up on the couch just watching me with rapt attention. And after my third attempt to connect Rod A to Slot 2 she finally starts to laugh. "You know, for someone who never seems to have an issue with finding the right hole, you seem to be having quite a lot of difficulty."
I turn to her and give her a dirty look. "Hush, you. I'll figure it out, I always do."
"Well will it be before the kid goes to college? I sure hope so."
In reply I groan and toss the rod on the floor in frustration. "Fuck, this is ridiculous."
She laughs even harder and I crawl over to her placing my hands on the sides of her belly, kissing her bump and then her lips. At 8 months I swear her belly is bigger than the rest of her and it is the cutest thing I've ever seen. "Well how about you let me practice for the crib by inserting Rod Lamb in to Slot Veronica?"
She crinkles her nose and a small laugh sneaks out, even as hard as she tries to keep it from happening. "Well I'd love to aid you in your endeavor, but I have to meet Mac in 20 minutes, so you're on your own."
I lean up and kiss her again. "I can't believe you're ditching me."
She laughs again and grabs my hands so I can help her up from the couch. "Look at it this way, think of how proud you'll be of yourself when you finish it."
I shake my head and once she is on her feet I follow her to the door. "I thought the mom pep talks weren't supposed to start until after the baby is here."
She just shrugs and kisses me one last time before walking outside. "Oh no, see it's all about practice and that starts in utero."
"Well fuck, with skill like that, this kid will be president by 19."
She gets up on her toes and kisses my nose. "If you're really having a problem with it why don't you call my dad?"
Why the fuck didn't I think of that before?
...
30 minutes later Keith shows up and we spend an hour getting pretty much no closer to being done than I had on my own and that's when we start making calls.
Logan, Wallace, Keith, Sacks and I spend another 2 hours trying to put the damn thing together.
"No I think that goes there."
"If it's supposed to fit, why the fuck doesn't it?"
"We could try duck tape, it fixes everything."
"Hit it with the hammer."
"This is fucking ridiculous."
"Why do they put screwdrivers in there that don't fit the screws?"
"That doesn't look right."
When we are finally done it's leaning heavily to the right side, we have 3 left over pieces and I have come to the conclusion that cribs were put on this earth to weed out the weak fathers and thin out the gene pool.
As the five of us stand there commiserating over our defeat, I pass beers all around and we retreat to the couch to watch the football game with the lopsided crib shoved against the wall and abandoned.
And then Echolls has a stroke of genius. He sits up straight and looks at the rest of us with a completely dumfounded expression. "When is Veronica supposed to be home?"
Keith groans knowing this can't be good and I answer cautiously. "Around 7." Which is still 2 hours away. "Why?"
And then he smirks eliciting groans from Wallace and Sacks who are beginning to understand Keith's reaction. "I have an idea."
...
Two hours later when Veronica gets home, the crib is in pristine assembled condition, the five of us are happily lounging on the couch and armchairs watching the game and the two guys from Ashley Furniture on 10th Avenue walked out the door literally 10 minutes before she walks in.
She takes one look at the crib and one look at us and smiles. "Well I guess that answers that question."
I look up at her and smile as the boys continue to stare straight ahead. "What question?"
She smirks and leans down kissing my forehead. "How many Neptunian men it takes to assemble a crib."
I laugh. "Yeah, 5."
She shakes her head and walks towards the bedroom as she replies. "No seven. 5 to do it wrong and 2 to fix it. Just don't tell the baby, I don't want them growing up thinking that they can just throw money at their problems instead of fixing them on their own."
And as the door closes behind her I can't help but laugh and they all turn and look at me like I'm crazy.
I just shrug and shake my head. "I guess the motherly guilt trip starts in utero too."
Chapter Eight http://community.livejournal.com/veronica_lamb/62760.html
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