Fic: Midnight Blue: Christmas Day (3/3)
This is not really the kind of Christmas he’d had in mind this year. Actually, that’s not really the kind of Christmas he’d ever had in mind for any year. Okay, so it’s not the first time he’d been on call over Christmas and not even the first time they actually called him but… yeah, ending up in hospital afterwards never happened before.
And of course because someone up there has a perverse sense of humor, it had to be a car crash - of course it was a car crash and not actually something related to the kind of work he usually does - that landed him in a hospital bed with a broken leg, bruised ribs and probably whiplash as well. So now he’s sitting around in the stupid bed, half drowsy with painkillers and waiting for the inevitable to happen.
So… what the hell is keeping her for so… “What, in the name of Jesus, Mary and the holy St. Joseph did you think you were doing, Sergeant Lorne?” Right. There she is, practically storming the overcrowded ER and walking up to his bed with long strides, her hair flying and her eyes blazing. He feels the desire to grab her and find a dark corner for them and he’d totally do so… if it weren’t for the slightly inconvenient detail that his leg is still waiting to be set in a cast. Well, that and that she looks ready to murder someone - probably him - right now.
She’s standing at the foot of his bed, huffing and puffing and he’s kind of glad about the painkillers in his system because they do help him a little in staying calm. “To quote this Officer I used to have on my team a while ago: my job?”
“Your job?” she echoes and repeats a little more forcefully, “Your job? Your job involves handling explosives, not showing off in stupid car chases!” Oh right, as if the former is any less dangerous than the latter.
And anyway… “I wasn’t showing off and it wasn’t a car chase.” Really, it wasn’t. They just happened to stumble over a squad car trying to detain a fugitive driver on the way back from their original job and volunteered to help them.
“Yeah, right, that’s not what Mendoza said.” Of course. Mendoza. He should have known. Having gotten away with a few scratches, they’d let the rest of his team go home and yeah, he should have known that his second-in-command would call Laura the moment he was out of the hospital, so that she wouldn’t be told by someone she didn’t know. It’s really amazing how scared his team still is of Laura.
And it’s about time he makes them scared of him again as well. But first of all… he has to deal with Laura. “Mendoza just wanted to get back at me for not letting him drive.” Seriously, this is more about Mendoza sulking at him than Mendoza being worried about Laura and what she would do to the poor hospital person charged with telling her.
“Maybe you should have. Apparently you are not the world’s best driver.” What the hell is going on with her? It’s not the first time she had to pick him up from the hospital and he’s also not the only one in their relationship ending up here now and then. Okay, so yeah, she does give him some crap every time he ends up here and he never can really keep from growling and grumbling at her when she gets herself in some scrape or other… but she really seems determined to piss him off today.
He sighs and tries not to let her irritate him. He never really managed that before but there’s a first time for everything. Would be a minor miracle but… it’s Christmas and that’s a good time for miracles, isn't it? “Look, Laura… Bendix and Ringhetti asked for our help in an armed robbery. What were we supposed to do? Say no?”
“That definitely sounds like a better idea than chasing some guys in a car through Manhattan, yeah.” That’s really not like her. Usually, by now she’d let it go and go from the wigging part to the far more pleasant kissing it better part.
And dammit, he’d love some kissing better now. The painkillers only work for so long and it’s starting to piss him off that they can’t even spare a nurse in that damn ER to slap some plaster on the leg, put a brace around his neck, bandage his ribs and send him off with another bottle of painkillers to try and celebrate what’s still left of Christmas Eve… no wait, should be Christmas Day by now. He can’t help groaning a little. “Just let it go, Laura. No one was killed and I’m gonna be a okay in a few weeks. And we got them in the end.”
She snorts. What? “Yeah, because you had the genius idea to slam into them!”
At that, he can’t help smirking, with all the groundwork she just gave him. “Genius is what you said.”
“Evan! You know exactly what I mean!” No… no, he doesn’t. He really has no idea why she’s lacking both her usual sense of humor and the spirit of the season. After all, she was the one that felt responsible of making the apartment they’ve been sharing for six months now look appropriate to the season. However, seeing the frown on his face, she’s kind enough to explain herself further. “Slamming into other people’s cars is not what I’d call safe driving!”
Okay, he’s had it now. Ignoring the pain from various sources shooting through his body, he straightens up on the bed and raises his voice, “Dammit, Laura, what’s with the driving advice all of a sudden?”
Getting defensive - and a little offended - she crosses her arms in front of her chest and glares at him. “I’m not trying to give you driving advice.”
Yeah, right. “Oh really? What are you doing then?”
Damn… he shouldn’t have put that much acid into his voice. She looks very much like she can’t decide between yelling him into the ground and simply turning around and let him rot here until all eternity. But… to his overwhelming surprise… after another moment of sending death glares his way, she straightens up herself and says, trying to sound kind of… casual, “I’m trying to tell you that your daredevil days are over because I sure as hell ain’t raising our kid all on my own.”
Ahahaha, yeah, ri… Wait… what? Did she just say our kid? He kind of… stares at her but all she does is give him a pointed look and a barely suppressed grin. Oh… God. His brain and tongue both refuse to produce any coherent speech and so the only thing he can do is look at her like a deer in headlights and switch back and forth between pointing at her and pointing at himself.
That makes the grin turn into a smirk. “Yeah, that’s right, Sarge. You knocked up a Catholic schoolgirl.” Catholic… oh, fuck. Laura’s family is Irish Catholic. As in Irish Catholic.
And so the first thing that slips out is, “Holy crap, does that mean I have to marry you?” of all things.
From the look of her face… that’s not really what she expected him to say. And he swears it’s also not what he had wanted to say. But he knows her grandmother who never lets an opportunity go by to remind them that they are living in sin and that she does not approve and he knows her father - proud Irish-descended cop in the third generation and very proud father of five girls - and as progressive he tries to be… hearing that he knocked Laura up before they were married in the face of God will not go over well with him.
There’s a moment of very strained silence and he’s about to tell her that he’s very sorry and that Jesus fucking Christ he’s happy about her news - because damn, he is - when she gives him a look and deadpans, “That’s… probably the worst proposal I ever heard.”
But… he wasn’t proposing. Not… really, at least. However, if he says that now he might end up with having to write child support checks being the only connection to his future kid. She’d probably even be right to do it. And of course he can’t even blame it on the painkillers anymore, judging by how his leg in particular starts to feel. He tries not to sound too strained when he tries to cut his losses. “Look, uh… it’s not like I’m not happy or anything but…”
“But you’re not happy.” Fuck. That’s not what he meant! He hastens to correct himself but she drew her conclusions and because she’s Laura Cadman she doesn’t even wait for him to explain anything. “Okay, you know, that’s fine by me. I’m just gonna… I think I need to… get back to midnight mass or Nana will… well, you know her… anyway… I think I’m gonna stay with my parents afterwards.”
And with that, she turns around, to bail on him and because she hasn’t done that ever since he’d asked her why she’d said he didn’t know anything about her he forgets that he’s sitting on a hospital bed with his leg in a soft brace. “Laura!” he calls after her and, when his foot hits the ground and he’s reminded why they’d made him put his leg up, he adds, “Holy crap, Jesus fucking Christ, goddammit…”
He’d have gone on infinitely, ignoring all the looks people all around him are throwing him, but at least it also grabs Laura’s attention enough that she actually stops and even turns around again. “Taking the name of the Lord in vain on Christmas Day, Sergeant? I’m appalled.” Yeah, right. The only time she’s a Catholic is when she attends midnight mass on Christmas and that’s only because her Nana would denounce her to be her granddaughter if she didn’t. Also, off the top of his head, he could name her at least ten occasions where the Second Commandment was something she’d entirely forgotten, as well.
Gritting his teeth and ignoring the excruciating pain, he limps up to her. “I’ll take the name of the Lord in vain any day I like, Officer.” Good God, the amount of pain a stupid broken leg can generate is simply ridiculous. Trying to control his breathing, he makes another attempt at explaining the whole not-proposal thing to her. “But… that’s not… the point. First of all… I am happy. I swear, Laura, this is wonderful… Jesus… wonderful news and… God…” He must have stumbled or something but before he hits the ground Laura steps up to him and catches him.
“Hey, champ, let’s take it a little slower, huh?” Very funny. And he can walk on his own, thank you very… “Nuh-uh, back to your bed, Sarge.” Damn, she’s in her “No buts!” mode and it’s really hard to withstand her when other things are occupying your mind. So he lets her put an arm around his midriff and puts his arm around her shoulders. After a few labored steps she adds, “And on the way there we can talk about why your first thought when I tell you that I’m pregnant is “Oh my God, I have to marry her.”.” She tried to sound matter-of-fact and admonishing but he’s pretty sure he could hear laughter somewhere in there.
For a moment he contemplates pretending he’s too busy with gritting his teeth but she’d probably see through it anyway. “That… wasn’t my first thought. Honestly.”
“Oh really? What was your first thought?” Yeah, well, that’s a good question.
Just two or three more steps… “Nothing. I didn’t… think.” Before she can be her usual opinionated self and do another bail run he manages to add, “I just… felt.” They arrived at the bed and he moves to lean against it. For a moment… they just look at each other and he sees incomprehension in her eyes. Silently sighing, he cups her cheek with his hand. Taking great care not to put weight on the injured leg, he tries to stand a little taller and kisses her.
Because, see, this is the only way he can tell her what went on in his head and his heart when it had registered with him what she’d tried to tell him. Okay, so, there are a few other ways he can imagine telling her but they’re… not hospital safe and… “Ow, dammit.” Hello whiplash, it’s good to know you didn’t leave me yet, he thinks sourly and reaches up to tenderly rub his neck.
“Aw, poor little bunny.” There’s definitely laughter in her voice now and also in her eyes as she bends down to give him a kiss on the forehead. He makes a face. “So what’s with all the marriage anxiety?”
He sighs. “I was just… I mean… I thought… your family and getting knocked up unmarried don’t really mix well and everything…”
She snorts. What the hell is so funny about it? Oh right, she’s not the one having to explain to Ronald Cadman - a legend concerning his shooting skills - why his little girl ended up pregnant before ending up married. “Jeez, Evan, it’s the 21st century. And dad knows that. They all know that.”
He can’t help making a face again. “Really? I don’t think Nana Cadman knows that.”
It was just supposed to be a flippant aside… but for some reason her immediate reaction is blanching and mumbling, “Oh crap. Nana will skin you alive.” Oh, gee, thanks, that’s just the thing he’d wanted to hear. “How about… Oh, I know. How about we just...go away? Like… oh… Mexico? What about Mexico?”
Good thing that his ribs still hurt. That makes not cracking up a lot easier. Trying to keep his face as straight as possible, he quips, “You know, that’s the worst proposal I ever heard.” Mh… was that how he looked when she took the p-word in her mouth? And… did she feel like he does now, wondering what the hell would be so bad about being married to him?
Actually… that’s a good question. What would be so bad about being married to her? So, okay, she’s incredibly stubborn, draws conclusions much too fast, can be a real pain in the neck… but she’s also caring, passionate about everyone and everything she cares about, fiercely loyal… “Doesn’t mean that I won’t say yes, though.”
She purses her lips. Oh God, did he put his foot in his mouth again? Or… was someone just tricked by her big mouth? “You… uh… what?”
Ow, crap, chuckling really hurts. “I just said, yes, I will marry you.” And because after almost two years he does know her well enough, he adds, “And no, not just because of the kid.”
What’s it with Laura and stunned silences? But at least he kind of got back at her for dropping the bomb about being pregnant on him like that. Thankfully, with Laura silence never lasts long, so after another moment, there’s something like a… squeal coming from her? Was that what the sound she just made is called? “I’d hug you now and then do some highly inappropriate and decidedly un-Catholic things to you, you know, but you just had to play hero and land yourself in here.”
That’s… evil. Because he loves it when she’s being highly inappropriate and decidedly un-Catholic. But he can still use it to his advantage. “Aw, come on… I know you love it when I play the hero.”
She scrunches her nose. “Yeah, well… just a little bit.” Whoa, pregnancy apparently made her soft. She’d never have admitted that if she weren’t… “But I swear, if you ever do that again, you can say good bye to a few very vital parts of your anatomy.” Okay. He revises his last statement… pregnancy made her scarier.
He actually has to swallow. “No argument there.”
“Thought so,” she says and grins. “And now… we’ll get you back in that bed and I’ll see if I can find a nurse or something. There are presents waiting to be unpacked at home and I just can’t wait to see your reaction to yours this year.” If he didn’t have to concentrate on not letting her see just how difficult the simple act of getting into bed is for him at the moment, he’d have told her that he’s pretty sure that whatever she put under the tree for him can’t match the gift - the gifts actually - she gave him here. But as it is… he’ll probably have to wait for that for a little while longer. That’s not really bad, though, because… because, Jesus, he’ll have a lifetime to tell her.
Finally realizing what just happened, he grabs her hand as she’s about to harass the ER personnel and pulls her to him, into another kiss and it doesn’t matter that he’s in pain or that they’re providing the entertainment for the rest of the ER inhabitants or that he’ll have to face Nana Cadman tomorrow… no, all that matters is that she’s here and that in a few months there will be a little girl with her hair or a little boy with his eyes and that he’ll have a lifetime with her, holy crap and that’s more Christmas miracles that he ever thought he’d get. Yeah, he thinks and pulls her even closer, it’s really not the kind of Christmas he had in his mind. It’s so much better.
And of course because someone up there has a perverse sense of humor, it had to be a car crash - of course it was a car crash and not actually something related to the kind of work he usually does - that landed him in a hospital bed with a broken leg, bruised ribs and probably whiplash as well. So now he’s sitting around in the stupid bed, half drowsy with painkillers and waiting for the inevitable to happen.
So… what the hell is keeping her for so… “What, in the name of Jesus, Mary and the holy St. Joseph did you think you were doing, Sergeant Lorne?” Right. There she is, practically storming the overcrowded ER and walking up to his bed with long strides, her hair flying and her eyes blazing. He feels the desire to grab her and find a dark corner for them and he’d totally do so… if it weren’t for the slightly inconvenient detail that his leg is still waiting to be set in a cast. Well, that and that she looks ready to murder someone - probably him - right now.
She’s standing at the foot of his bed, huffing and puffing and he’s kind of glad about the painkillers in his system because they do help him a little in staying calm. “To quote this Officer I used to have on my team a while ago: my job?”
“Your job?” she echoes and repeats a little more forcefully, “Your job? Your job involves handling explosives, not showing off in stupid car chases!” Oh right, as if the former is any less dangerous than the latter.
And anyway… “I wasn’t showing off and it wasn’t a car chase.” Really, it wasn’t. They just happened to stumble over a squad car trying to detain a fugitive driver on the way back from their original job and volunteered to help them.
“Yeah, right, that’s not what Mendoza said.” Of course. Mendoza. He should have known. Having gotten away with a few scratches, they’d let the rest of his team go home and yeah, he should have known that his second-in-command would call Laura the moment he was out of the hospital, so that she wouldn’t be told by someone she didn’t know. It’s really amazing how scared his team still is of Laura.
And it’s about time he makes them scared of him again as well. But first of all… he has to deal with Laura. “Mendoza just wanted to get back at me for not letting him drive.” Seriously, this is more about Mendoza sulking at him than Mendoza being worried about Laura and what she would do to the poor hospital person charged with telling her.
“Maybe you should have. Apparently you are not the world’s best driver.” What the hell is going on with her? It’s not the first time she had to pick him up from the hospital and he’s also not the only one in their relationship ending up here now and then. Okay, so yeah, she does give him some crap every time he ends up here and he never can really keep from growling and grumbling at her when she gets herself in some scrape or other… but she really seems determined to piss him off today.
He sighs and tries not to let her irritate him. He never really managed that before but there’s a first time for everything. Would be a minor miracle but… it’s Christmas and that’s a good time for miracles, isn't it? “Look, Laura… Bendix and Ringhetti asked for our help in an armed robbery. What were we supposed to do? Say no?”
“That definitely sounds like a better idea than chasing some guys in a car through Manhattan, yeah.” That’s really not like her. Usually, by now she’d let it go and go from the wigging part to the far more pleasant kissing it better part.
And dammit, he’d love some kissing better now. The painkillers only work for so long and it’s starting to piss him off that they can’t even spare a nurse in that damn ER to slap some plaster on the leg, put a brace around his neck, bandage his ribs and send him off with another bottle of painkillers to try and celebrate what’s still left of Christmas Eve… no wait, should be Christmas Day by now. He can’t help groaning a little. “Just let it go, Laura. No one was killed and I’m gonna be a okay in a few weeks. And we got them in the end.”
She snorts. What? “Yeah, because you had the genius idea to slam into them!”
At that, he can’t help smirking, with all the groundwork she just gave him. “Genius is what you said.”
“Evan! You know exactly what I mean!” No… no, he doesn’t. He really has no idea why she’s lacking both her usual sense of humor and the spirit of the season. After all, she was the one that felt responsible of making the apartment they’ve been sharing for six months now look appropriate to the season. However, seeing the frown on his face, she’s kind enough to explain herself further. “Slamming into other people’s cars is not what I’d call safe driving!”
Okay, he’s had it now. Ignoring the pain from various sources shooting through his body, he straightens up on the bed and raises his voice, “Dammit, Laura, what’s with the driving advice all of a sudden?”
Getting defensive - and a little offended - she crosses her arms in front of her chest and glares at him. “I’m not trying to give you driving advice.”
Yeah, right. “Oh really? What are you doing then?”
Damn… he shouldn’t have put that much acid into his voice. She looks very much like she can’t decide between yelling him into the ground and simply turning around and let him rot here until all eternity. But… to his overwhelming surprise… after another moment of sending death glares his way, she straightens up herself and says, trying to sound kind of… casual, “I’m trying to tell you that your daredevil days are over because I sure as hell ain’t raising our kid all on my own.”
Ahahaha, yeah, ri… Wait… what? Did she just say our kid? He kind of… stares at her but all she does is give him a pointed look and a barely suppressed grin. Oh… God. His brain and tongue both refuse to produce any coherent speech and so the only thing he can do is look at her like a deer in headlights and switch back and forth between pointing at her and pointing at himself.
That makes the grin turn into a smirk. “Yeah, that’s right, Sarge. You knocked up a Catholic schoolgirl.” Catholic… oh, fuck. Laura’s family is Irish Catholic. As in Irish Catholic.
And so the first thing that slips out is, “Holy crap, does that mean I have to marry you?” of all things.
From the look of her face… that’s not really what she expected him to say. And he swears it’s also not what he had wanted to say. But he knows her grandmother who never lets an opportunity go by to remind them that they are living in sin and that she does not approve and he knows her father - proud Irish-descended cop in the third generation and very proud father of five girls - and as progressive he tries to be… hearing that he knocked Laura up before they were married in the face of God will not go over well with him.
There’s a moment of very strained silence and he’s about to tell her that he’s very sorry and that Jesus fucking Christ he’s happy about her news - because damn, he is - when she gives him a look and deadpans, “That’s… probably the worst proposal I ever heard.”
But… he wasn’t proposing. Not… really, at least. However, if he says that now he might end up with having to write child support checks being the only connection to his future kid. She’d probably even be right to do it. And of course he can’t even blame it on the painkillers anymore, judging by how his leg in particular starts to feel. He tries not to sound too strained when he tries to cut his losses. “Look, uh… it’s not like I’m not happy or anything but…”
“But you’re not happy.” Fuck. That’s not what he meant! He hastens to correct himself but she drew her conclusions and because she’s Laura Cadman she doesn’t even wait for him to explain anything. “Okay, you know, that’s fine by me. I’m just gonna… I think I need to… get back to midnight mass or Nana will… well, you know her… anyway… I think I’m gonna stay with my parents afterwards.”
And with that, she turns around, to bail on him and because she hasn’t done that ever since he’d asked her why she’d said he didn’t know anything about her he forgets that he’s sitting on a hospital bed with his leg in a soft brace. “Laura!” he calls after her and, when his foot hits the ground and he’s reminded why they’d made him put his leg up, he adds, “Holy crap, Jesus fucking Christ, goddammit…”
He’d have gone on infinitely, ignoring all the looks people all around him are throwing him, but at least it also grabs Laura’s attention enough that she actually stops and even turns around again. “Taking the name of the Lord in vain on Christmas Day, Sergeant? I’m appalled.” Yeah, right. The only time she’s a Catholic is when she attends midnight mass on Christmas and that’s only because her Nana would denounce her to be her granddaughter if she didn’t. Also, off the top of his head, he could name her at least ten occasions where the Second Commandment was something she’d entirely forgotten, as well.
Gritting his teeth and ignoring the excruciating pain, he limps up to her. “I’ll take the name of the Lord in vain any day I like, Officer.” Good God, the amount of pain a stupid broken leg can generate is simply ridiculous. Trying to control his breathing, he makes another attempt at explaining the whole not-proposal thing to her. “But… that’s not… the point. First of all… I am happy. I swear, Laura, this is wonderful… Jesus… wonderful news and… God…” He must have stumbled or something but before he hits the ground Laura steps up to him and catches him.
“Hey, champ, let’s take it a little slower, huh?” Very funny. And he can walk on his own, thank you very… “Nuh-uh, back to your bed, Sarge.” Damn, she’s in her “No buts!” mode and it’s really hard to withstand her when other things are occupying your mind. So he lets her put an arm around his midriff and puts his arm around her shoulders. After a few labored steps she adds, “And on the way there we can talk about why your first thought when I tell you that I’m pregnant is “Oh my God, I have to marry her.”.” She tried to sound matter-of-fact and admonishing but he’s pretty sure he could hear laughter somewhere in there.
For a moment he contemplates pretending he’s too busy with gritting his teeth but she’d probably see through it anyway. “That… wasn’t my first thought. Honestly.”
“Oh really? What was your first thought?” Yeah, well, that’s a good question.
Just two or three more steps… “Nothing. I didn’t… think.” Before she can be her usual opinionated self and do another bail run he manages to add, “I just… felt.” They arrived at the bed and he moves to lean against it. For a moment… they just look at each other and he sees incomprehension in her eyes. Silently sighing, he cups her cheek with his hand. Taking great care not to put weight on the injured leg, he tries to stand a little taller and kisses her.
Because, see, this is the only way he can tell her what went on in his head and his heart when it had registered with him what she’d tried to tell him. Okay, so, there are a few other ways he can imagine telling her but they’re… not hospital safe and… “Ow, dammit.” Hello whiplash, it’s good to know you didn’t leave me yet, he thinks sourly and reaches up to tenderly rub his neck.
“Aw, poor little bunny.” There’s definitely laughter in her voice now and also in her eyes as she bends down to give him a kiss on the forehead. He makes a face. “So what’s with all the marriage anxiety?”
He sighs. “I was just… I mean… I thought… your family and getting knocked up unmarried don’t really mix well and everything…”
She snorts. What the hell is so funny about it? Oh right, she’s not the one having to explain to Ronald Cadman - a legend concerning his shooting skills - why his little girl ended up pregnant before ending up married. “Jeez, Evan, it’s the 21st century. And dad knows that. They all know that.”
He can’t help making a face again. “Really? I don’t think Nana Cadman knows that.”
It was just supposed to be a flippant aside… but for some reason her immediate reaction is blanching and mumbling, “Oh crap. Nana will skin you alive.” Oh, gee, thanks, that’s just the thing he’d wanted to hear. “How about… Oh, I know. How about we just...go away? Like… oh… Mexico? What about Mexico?”
Good thing that his ribs still hurt. That makes not cracking up a lot easier. Trying to keep his face as straight as possible, he quips, “You know, that’s the worst proposal I ever heard.” Mh… was that how he looked when she took the p-word in her mouth? And… did she feel like he does now, wondering what the hell would be so bad about being married to him?
Actually… that’s a good question. What would be so bad about being married to her? So, okay, she’s incredibly stubborn, draws conclusions much too fast, can be a real pain in the neck… but she’s also caring, passionate about everyone and everything she cares about, fiercely loyal… “Doesn’t mean that I won’t say yes, though.”
She purses her lips. Oh God, did he put his foot in his mouth again? Or… was someone just tricked by her big mouth? “You… uh… what?”
Ow, crap, chuckling really hurts. “I just said, yes, I will marry you.” And because after almost two years he does know her well enough, he adds, “And no, not just because of the kid.”
What’s it with Laura and stunned silences? But at least he kind of got back at her for dropping the bomb about being pregnant on him like that. Thankfully, with Laura silence never lasts long, so after another moment, there’s something like a… squeal coming from her? Was that what the sound she just made is called? “I’d hug you now and then do some highly inappropriate and decidedly un-Catholic things to you, you know, but you just had to play hero and land yourself in here.”
That’s… evil. Because he loves it when she’s being highly inappropriate and decidedly un-Catholic. But he can still use it to his advantage. “Aw, come on… I know you love it when I play the hero.”
She scrunches her nose. “Yeah, well… just a little bit.” Whoa, pregnancy apparently made her soft. She’d never have admitted that if she weren’t… “But I swear, if you ever do that again, you can say good bye to a few very vital parts of your anatomy.” Okay. He revises his last statement… pregnancy made her scarier.
He actually has to swallow. “No argument there.”
“Thought so,” she says and grins. “And now… we’ll get you back in that bed and I’ll see if I can find a nurse or something. There are presents waiting to be unpacked at home and I just can’t wait to see your reaction to yours this year.” If he didn’t have to concentrate on not letting her see just how difficult the simple act of getting into bed is for him at the moment, he’d have told her that he’s pretty sure that whatever she put under the tree for him can’t match the gift - the gifts actually - she gave him here. But as it is… he’ll probably have to wait for that for a little while longer. That’s not really bad, though, because… because, Jesus, he’ll have a lifetime to tell her.
Finally realizing what just happened, he grabs her hand as she’s about to harass the ER personnel and pulls her to him, into another kiss and it doesn’t matter that he’s in pain or that they’re providing the entertainment for the rest of the ER inhabitants or that he’ll have to face Nana Cadman tomorrow… no, all that matters is that she’s here and that in a few months there will be a little girl with her hair or a little boy with his eyes and that he’ll have a lifetime with her, holy crap and that’s more Christmas miracles that he ever thought he’d get. Yeah, he thinks and pulls her even closer, it’s really not the kind of Christmas he had in his mind. It’s so much better.