ds_aprilfools: Prompt 08 - First meeting (Due South; F/V/K)
This is all brynnmck's fault. Somehow.
08. First meeting - Due South; Fraser/Vecchio/Kowalski + a baby, rated PG, 770 words
“This is a really bad idea.” Ray’s fingers wouldn’t unclench from the steering wheel.
“Ray.”
“Come on, Vecchio, you can’t be a pussy about it now.”
“Ray, language.”
“Are you sure they know about our situation? And they’re still ok with it?”
“Yes, Ray. You were with us during all of the interviews when we discussed it.”
Kowalski, sitting in the passenger seat, poked him in the arm. “You look kinda pale, Vecchio.”
“Not as pale as your skinny ass,” he said, the response automatic.
“Ray,” Fraser sighed.
“Nah, it’s good, Frase. Means he’s not going to pass out yet.”
Ray breathed in, deep, and exhaled slowly. He wasn’t entirely sure Kowalski was right. “I don’t even like babies.”
“You like this baby, Ray. We’ve already met her several times.”
“Yeah, we met her, but we haven’t actually had to take care of her. Maybe they’ll let us just take care of her a few days. Like a trial run.”
“Jesus, Vecchio, they don’t give you warranties on babies. You take one, you can’t give it back if it’s broken.”
He was having trouble with his slow-and-and steady breathing now, could hear himself almost panting. “But what if I’m a terrible father?”
“Don’t worry about it. Between the three of us we’ve got to make at least an average parent.”
“Ray.” Ray heard Fraser moving around in the back, and then he felt Fraser’s hands pressing warm on his shoulders. “You’ll be fine. We all will. We’re in this together.”
“Yeah.” Ray breathed. “Yeah, we are.” They’d had long conversations about it for nearly two years now, ever since they’d been sitting around the table one Sunday morning and Kowalski had said, “It’s too bad we’ll never have kids, huh?”
“Remember how she smiled at you last time?” Kowalski asked, now, and Ray’s fingers eased on the steering wheel, released.
“OK. Let’s go get her and take her home.”
Inside the office, Maggie was at the desk talking to the receptionist, the stroller just a few feet away. The baby was making fitful noises. Little baby noises that Ray knew from Maria’s and Frannie’s kids. He gave Maggie a quick hug when it was his turn, and hoped he said “how are you” or at least “hi,” but he couldn’t take his eyes off the little girl in the stroller. Their little girl, now, once the three of them signed the final documents.
Kowalski came up next to him and rubbed his hand in soothing circles on Ray’s back. “You know there’s really only one problem with this whole thing,” he whispered. Fraser was talking with their adoption counselor, Laurie, and going over the details one last time, charming her into final submission. There was a reason Fraser had been their main conduit to the adoption agency, and it wasn’t just because the baby was the child of Maggie’s deceased friend.
Kowalski wasn’t explaining, so Ray said, “And that would be?”
“We’re like that movie. With Tom Selleck? And that guy from Short Circuit?”
Ray shook his head. “We are not like that movie.”
“Come on, I can’t believe you haven’t seen it before now.”
“We are not like that movie, Kowalski.”
“What movie, Ray?” Fraser was smiling at them, glowing, really.
“Three Men And A Baby,” Kowalski said. “That’s us.”
Ray groaned. “Are we ready?”
“Yes, Mr. Vecchio,” Laurie said. She had given up on calling them both Ray early in their discussions with her. “You just need to sign here and then the three of you can take Angelique home.”
Fraser held the pen out to him. “Why don’t you sign first, Ray?”
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if they’d make him go first and then refuse to sign themselves, leaving him the sole legal father. But Ray knew that was stupid. They were in this together, they had been since he and Kowalski had surprised Fraser with their applications for Canadian citizenship. That had happened right after the first serious baby conversation, and it had been the main reason they’d moved up to the Great White North. That decision had brought them here, to a tiny baby with eyes as blue as Fraser’s, and a nose that looked weirdly like Kowalski’s. Ray signed his name in big letters, flourishing the “o” at the end.
Then, while Kowalski and Fraser signed, too, he knelt down in front of the stroller, looked into the baby’s eyes, and held his finger out to her. “Hi, Angel,” he whispered. She waved her hands at him, batting at his finger. “I’m your father, Ray.”
08. First meeting - Due South; Fraser/Vecchio/Kowalski + a baby, rated PG, 770 words
“This is a really bad idea.” Ray’s fingers wouldn’t unclench from the steering wheel.
“Ray.”
“Come on, Vecchio, you can’t be a pussy about it now.”
“Ray, language.”
“Are you sure they know about our situation? And they’re still ok with it?”
“Yes, Ray. You were with us during all of the interviews when we discussed it.”
Kowalski, sitting in the passenger seat, poked him in the arm. “You look kinda pale, Vecchio.”
“Not as pale as your skinny ass,” he said, the response automatic.
“Ray,” Fraser sighed.
“Nah, it’s good, Frase. Means he’s not going to pass out yet.”
Ray breathed in, deep, and exhaled slowly. He wasn’t entirely sure Kowalski was right. “I don’t even like babies.”
“You like this baby, Ray. We’ve already met her several times.”
“Yeah, we met her, but we haven’t actually had to take care of her. Maybe they’ll let us just take care of her a few days. Like a trial run.”
“Jesus, Vecchio, they don’t give you warranties on babies. You take one, you can’t give it back if it’s broken.”
He was having trouble with his slow-and-and steady breathing now, could hear himself almost panting. “But what if I’m a terrible father?”
“Don’t worry about it. Between the three of us we’ve got to make at least an average parent.”
“Ray.” Ray heard Fraser moving around in the back, and then he felt Fraser’s hands pressing warm on his shoulders. “You’ll be fine. We all will. We’re in this together.”
“Yeah.” Ray breathed. “Yeah, we are.” They’d had long conversations about it for nearly two years now, ever since they’d been sitting around the table one Sunday morning and Kowalski had said, “It’s too bad we’ll never have kids, huh?”
“Remember how she smiled at you last time?” Kowalski asked, now, and Ray’s fingers eased on the steering wheel, released.
“OK. Let’s go get her and take her home.”
Inside the office, Maggie was at the desk talking to the receptionist, the stroller just a few feet away. The baby was making fitful noises. Little baby noises that Ray knew from Maria’s and Frannie’s kids. He gave Maggie a quick hug when it was his turn, and hoped he said “how are you” or at least “hi,” but he couldn’t take his eyes off the little girl in the stroller. Their little girl, now, once the three of them signed the final documents.
Kowalski came up next to him and rubbed his hand in soothing circles on Ray’s back. “You know there’s really only one problem with this whole thing,” he whispered. Fraser was talking with their adoption counselor, Laurie, and going over the details one last time, charming her into final submission. There was a reason Fraser had been their main conduit to the adoption agency, and it wasn’t just because the baby was the child of Maggie’s deceased friend.
Kowalski wasn’t explaining, so Ray said, “And that would be?”
“We’re like that movie. With Tom Selleck? And that guy from Short Circuit?”
Ray shook his head. “We are not like that movie.”
“Come on, I can’t believe you haven’t seen it before now.”
“We are not like that movie, Kowalski.”
“What movie, Ray?” Fraser was smiling at them, glowing, really.
“Three Men And A Baby,” Kowalski said. “That’s us.”
Ray groaned. “Are we ready?”
“Yes, Mr. Vecchio,” Laurie said. She had given up on calling them both Ray early in their discussions with her. “You just need to sign here and then the three of you can take Angelique home.”
Fraser held the pen out to him. “Why don’t you sign first, Ray?”
For a fleeting moment, he wondered if they’d make him go first and then refuse to sign themselves, leaving him the sole legal father. But Ray knew that was stupid. They were in this together, they had been since he and Kowalski had surprised Fraser with their applications for Canadian citizenship. That had happened right after the first serious baby conversation, and it had been the main reason they’d moved up to the Great White North. That decision had brought them here, to a tiny baby with eyes as blue as Fraser’s, and a nose that looked weirdly like Kowalski’s. Ray signed his name in big letters, flourishing the “o” at the end.
Then, while Kowalski and Fraser signed, too, he knelt down in front of the stroller, looked into the baby’s eyes, and held his finger out to her. “Hi, Angel,” he whispered. She waved her hands at him, batting at his finger. “I’m your father, Ray.”