#cocoskween

As you were bombarded with thoughts of cheesy pizza and garlic knots, all of which usually made you very happy, you launched yourself out of bed and into your en suite, in search of the toilet. The following 10 minutes felt like a lifetime as you dry heaved fluids and air. Feeling a light sheen of sweat down your chest, you wished to be carried back to bed but you didn’t want to alarm your already overprotective partner by calling out for help, so you flushed the toilet and pulled yourself off the tiled floor. Standing at the sink, you made quick work of brushing your teeth and rinsing your mouth before taking some medicine. Heading back into the bedroom, you sat on the edge of the bed and tried to figure out what was going on. This was the fourth morning you had woken with an extreme case of nausea. You had blamed it on the new Thai place you and Amy tried the other day while Frank was gone on ‘business,’ resulting in a nasty Yelp review anonymously left by ‘the kid.’ But that was four days ago and that was excessive, even for food poisoning.

What if... you thought to yourself. No. Shaking your head incredulously before your thoughts started spiraling. Yeah, you’d missed your dot last month but you had chalked it up to stress. I mean, you guys had recently moved from your small 1 bedroom studio walk up and into a 3 bedroom unit, on the 5th floor, all the while Frank was dealing with a ‘situation.’ So in addition to worrying about his safety, you and Amy did all the heavy lifting, quite literally. Frank had apologized profusely, about his work affecting his personal life, and you forgave him. After all, you knew how important being The Punisher was to him and with two years in the game, you knew what to expect. Plus you could never stay at mad at him when his apologies usually involved a hot bath, massage oil and lots of time spent in bed. Sh*t. Sh*t. Sh*t. The more you thought about it, the more likely the outcome was. I mean you were a nurse, you knew the risks of not being on the pill. And because of your occupation, you also knew the risks that came with being on birth control and what that meant for your hormones. And while you’d never judge another woman’s choice, you knew it wasn’t for you. And that personal choice was something Frank had been aware of from day 1. This was totally unplanned. You weren’t interested in ‘trapping him’ and you knew of his pain, so you weren’t trying to ‘fix’ him by giving him a family either. And anyways, Frank wasn’t big on contraceptives either. It’s not like he went out of his way to wrap it up or anything. Come to think of it, you’re a little surprised this hadn’t happened before now.

Feeling a little anxious, you head back into the bathroom and stand in the mirror. Turning in profile, you lift up your shirt and proceed to poke at your tummy, taking in all the new fleshy pockets you hadn’t remembered a couple weeks ago. Ducking down below the sink, you went in search of your emergency basket... you knew you had a pregnancy test in here somewhere. Reaching into the bottom drawer, you found one and move to the toilet. Counting the tiles while you wait, you leap up once the necessary time is up. Reaching for the blue and white test, you take a deep breath before looking down at the results that will change your world forever. “Pregnant,” the little stick reads and you inhale on a tiny gasp. Resting your hand near your belly button, you look down, smiling in wonder. I’m gonna be a mom. Never did you imagine that in your late 20’s, you’d be working your dream job, married, living with a man and about to be a mom 2x over. Placing the test on the sink counter again, you quickly washed your hands, eager to find your family and share news of the expansion. Stopping to grab your robe, you slide on your slippers before heading out into the hallway.

Making your way to kitchen, you can hear Frank and Amy laughing about something and you smile. Rounding the corner, you say a silent prayer of thanks. Here you are making a home with the man you love and filling it laughter and family... this was everything you had dreamed of and in that moment, you felt fulfilled. "Morning doll," Frank says looking up from where he stood fixing a plate of pancakes for Amy. Walking towards the island, you lift up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Hi my love," you responded. Moving around him, you went to where Amy sat at the kitchen table and kissed the top of her head, giving her shoulders a squeeze. Looking up at you, she smiles, removing her headphones. "Morning," she says softly before turning back to the pile of homework she’s working her way through. Apparently ‘beating the crap out of lowlifes in Hell’s Kitchen with your legal guardian’ didn’t count as an excused absence in private school, nor did it stop you from having to complete missed work. Smoothing her hair back, you smile before heading to the fridge for some water to soothe your throat. After filling your glass, you leaned against the cool stainless steel and watched as Frank set a plate down in front of Amy. He had barely turned his back before she started digging in. "You hungry? Let me fix you a plate," Frank asked. Taking a big gulp of water, you shook your head. "I’m good." You loved Frank’s pancakes, one of the only things the man could actually cook, but you were scared you wouldn’t be able to keep it down if you indulged yourself... and you still were trying to figure out how to bring up the baby topic.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize Frank was talking until he came and stood in front of you and rested a hand on your neck. "Hey," he called out to you, pulling you back to the present. You felt yourself relax into his touch as he ran his thumb back and forth over your jaw. "What’s up mama? You’re awfully quiet this morning... even more than usual." His eyes searched yours, looking for any clue into what you were thinking or feeling but he could find nothing out the ordinary. Just a gut feeling that something was up. "Nothing, I’m just not feeling well. That’s all." You held his gaze in an attempt to not make him suspicious. It appeared to work when he nodded and turned to the counter. "I’ll make you some tea... was it the Thai from the other night?" He asks, causing your eyes to find his. He’s watching you pensively as he places a teabag in your favorite mug. You notice the look in his eye. Like he knows the truth but is waiting for you to lie to him anyway. You know that’s not possible given the situation but you debate the latter as you avert your gaze, focusing on the way the sun illuminates the city skyline from your balcony doors... but you know you’re just prolonging the inevitable. "I’m pregnant," you say, just as the tea kettle starts to go off. Obviously not expecting that response, he lifts up off the counter where he was resting, eyes wide. Over the sound of the water being ready, Amy exclaims from behind Frank’s stilled form. "You’re pregnant!?" You nod shyly, still waiting on a response, any response, from the love of your life. "You serious?" He asks. You nod again. "We’re having a baby," you breathe out. He doesn’t say anything more but you watch as a million emotions cross his face as he begins to process this news. "Oh my gosh. I’m going to be a big sister!" Amy says, clearly excited. "I mean... if that’s alright with you..." she trails off. At the note of insecurity in her voice, you divert your attention to look at her. "Of course it’s alright with me, with us," you reassure her, nodding at Frank who blindly nods along, his eyes never leaving yours. "Can I?" She nods towards your belly. "Yeah," you say, smiling at the underlying bit of eagerness in her tone.

Quickly and quietly, she’s pushes her chair out from the table and makes her way to you. Squatting down, she rests her hand on your abdomen, rubbing in small circles. “Hey little bean. I’m Amy." She pauses, trying to figure out just what to say. The kitchen is silent, the air heavy with the weight of this moment. "I-I guess you could say I’m your big sister, it’s nice to meet you... Uhh, we won’t look alike when you get here because our parents sorta adopted me but... just know blood wouldn’t make us any more related,” she whispers to your belly. You can feel tears welling in your eyes at the truths embedded in her statement, some completely unknown to her. And she continues on as if you and Frank aren’t even in the room. “Mom’s a sweetheart, you’ll love her the moment you meet. And Dad... well Dad’s a bit of a grump but you’ll get used to it. He loves through his growls.” Your lips part on a gasp and Frank clears his throat. You had heard her refer to you as “mom” plenty of times in passing with friends but this was the first time she had ever said it in front of you or outright referred to Frank as her "dad.” You looked up to see him battling intense emotions while watching the two of you. The ones you could easily pinpoint were awe, love and devotion. “... and it’s a good thing we moved into this place. There’s much more space here and now you’ll have your own nursery which mom will have to stop using as her art room. She thinks she’s Picasso.” She laughs to herself. In awe of the kid who’s had to grow up way too early, you rest your hand on top of hers and your eyes meet. "I want you to know, despite not birthing you... you will always be my first child. And nothing will ever change that." You assure her, your voice laden with emotion. She nods and stands to wrap you in a hug. "I know," she responds. When you disengage, you nod. "Good." Doing her best to hide her emotions, she quickly wipes at her eyes before turning to grab her stuff from off the table. "I’ll just-uh, be in my room if anyone needs me," she says before heading to her wing of the house.

Once she’s gone and you hear her bedroom door click, you make your way to where Frank still stands, frozen, your mug in front of him on the counter. Reaching to fix yourself some tea, he stops you before the cup is in your hands. "A baby," he wonders aloud as he wraps you in his arms. You nod, smiling. “This is an unexpected surprise,” he says softly. "Is it? I’m kinda surprised it took us this long.” You look up at him with a smirk. Watching his face, you can see the cogs turning in his head as he considers what this all means and worry fills his gaze. "Do you think we’re ready for this?" He asks carefully. You know he’s worried about if he deserves a second chance and whether or not he’s capable of being a good dad, at trying his hand at fatherhood again. And you are reminded of the same conversation you had when you first discussed the possibility of adopting Amy. "I know this is a big change," you begin. "And I won’t ask you to stop being The Punisher, to stop being you... If you’re not ready, I completely understand... but I want this baby Frank. And if I have to... need to do it alone... I will." You state, your voice clear and unwavering. And although that is the last thing you want, to do this without him... you need him to know that you are committed to this. To him. To this baby. To this family. "That’s not gonna happen," he says, taking your face in his hands. "Don’t doubt for a second that I don’t want to grow this family with you... But my hands aren’t clean, doll. They’ll never be clean. And that life that’s growing inside of you," he pauses, resting his hand on your belly. "That is the purest form of love coming into this world. And I don’t want to taint that." He shakes his head, his eyes growing glassy. "You can’t. You won’t, Frank.” You reach up to stroke his clean-shaven face before continuing. “Because this baby will be the very best of us. Made of love, out of love... and you Frank Castle, never hurt the ones you love." You say as a tear escapes down your cheek. Frank brushes it away and rests his forehead on yours. With your eyes closed, the quiet enraptures you and for a moment, it’s almost as if all of New York stops in reverence and it’s just you and him, alone. "My love... my life," he whispers out into the silence. The words so quiet, his breath only the faintest tickle across your nose. "My love... my life," you repeat, reciting your shared vows back to him.

“Relax love, you can put your weapons down. I’m unarmed,” he says with a trace of humor. You take in his presence and your face begins to frown up. Standing next to your fridge, he’s leaned up on the counter, with a frozen steak pressed against the side of his head and he looks like someone took their life’s issues out on his face. You can feel your anger and frustration starting to rise as you flip the safety back on and place your firearm on the island. Addressing his very still form, you ask incredulously, “what the hell Reyes? I could’ve shot you! What are you doing in my house?” He smirks before opening his eyes to look at you, “you’re the only medical professional I know and... well I’m hurt, Doc.” You roll your eyes, ignoring the way your heart pitter-patters at his attempt to flirt with you and bypass the fact that he just had a close call with death. “That’s what ER’s are for,” you grumble. “Natalia probably would’ve turned me away though,” he said, referring to his ex, a fellow resident with you at the main hospital the next town over. “And would she be wrong?” You asked rhetorically while looking over all his external injuries. “No, she wouldn’t,” he responded back, looking at you with an intensity that almost made you flinch. Heading into the hallway in search of your emergency kit, you call out over your shoulder, “sit down, I’ll be back with my bag.”

Once out from under his gaze, you take a deep breath and head towards your bathroom. While grabbing the things you need you think back to the night you and Angel first met. You were working a graveyard shift, nursing a cup of the worst coffee you’d ever had the pleasure of ingesting when two handsome bikers strolled into the ER. The pretty one, who’s cut read EZ, was shouldering the weight of an equally handsome man with a deep laceration over his eye. You were holding up the wall nearby when Natalia, one of your fellow residents walked up to the main desk. She spoke to this EZ guy with a deep familiarity and gazed at the other guy with a thinly veiled look of disgust. Apparently, he had got in a bar fight and some idiot tried to break a beer bottle over his head. You couldn’t tell if she was buying it or not but she steered them over to one of the empty beds in the main area before heading back to the desk. Taking a chart, she shoved it in your direction. “He’s in bed 2,” she said when you scrunched your brows up in confusion. You weren’t interested but Natalia had pawned him off on you, saying something about “an emergency page in oncology” and you shrugged it off, never mind that ortho was her specialty. The entire time you stitched him up, he was quiet. Answered your questions direct, didn’t make jokes and didn’t let his eyes linger for too long. It would’ve made the task awkward and boring but his brother, you had come to find out, took care of that– filling up the quiet room with dialogue. After you finished, you left to prep his discharge paperwork and overheard some of the nurses gossiping about him and Nat’s never-ending drama. Armed with this new knowledge, you had deemed him off limits and unattractive no matter how much his mysterious-ness intrigued you. Returning with a clipboard, he signed the paperwork and you discharged him, giving him a prescription for the pain and sent him on his way. And although you swore you hadn’t done anything to invite his attention, ever since that first night, any time he found himself cut up or hurt, he would come crawling to you. Though usually it was at the hospital... this was the first time he’d ever made a house call. “How the hell did you even get in here?” You asked, stepping back in the kitchen with your leather bag in tow. Registering your presence, he looked up from his phone, hitting send on a text before focusing back on you. “The spare you leave taped under the kitchen window for when you’re too drunk to locate your keys,” he says with a twinkle in his eye. Turning your head from where you were setting up everything, you narrow your gaze. “It was one time and if I recall correctly, I called EZ to come help me. Not you.” He chuckled at your snarkiness and for the third time that evening, you felt like you could punch him.

After triple checking you had what you needed, you assumed your mask of indifference and turned to face your patient. “Let me look at you,” you said, voice serious. You hadn’t had a chance to really see all his injuries during the process of almost shooting him but when you did, you groaned internally. Removing the steak you’d probably have to throw away, Angel revealed a deep cut on his temple and swelling that would make it a b*tch to patch up. Not to mention a cut above his lip to match his bloody and bruised knuckles. Before returning to the kitchen, you promised yourself you’d remain objective so you wouldn’t seem overly caring or attracted but you found yourself gravitating towards him anyway. And he accommodated you, spreading his legs wide for you to step into his personal space. With a feather light touch, you moved his head from side to side, careful not to grab his face in a way that would cause him more pain. “Trust me mama, the other guy looks worse,” he joked. You knew he was trying to make you feel better but it wasn’t helping. For all your attempts to distance and detach from your growing attraction, seeing Angel hurt always rubbed you the wrong way. “I can only imagine,” you mumbled.

Grabbing some antiseptic, you made quick work disinfecting all the cuts– big and small, on his face before getting to work on the large one on his forehead. “This is gonna smart a bit,” you warned, prepping to suture him. He gave a soft nod but said no more as he dragged his hand softly up the back of your leg, starting at the sensitive spot behind your knee and upwards towards the hem of your nightie. This entire time, you hadn’t given much thought to the fact that you were half naked. Your body on the other hand, was acutely aware and you shuddered under his touch. You knew he felt it too as his grip on your leg tightened. Ignoring the heat emitting from his body, you focused in on the wound and began to patch him up. You felt him wince at the initial pressure but then he relaxed, no doubt used to the discomfort. About 15 mins later, you were happy with the job you had done and confident the wound would heal nicely. “All done,” you whispered after placing ointment and a bandage on it before walking to the sink to wash your hands. “Thanks Doc,” he said as you turned away, sincerity in his voice. Scrubbing your hands and forearms, you could feel his gaze on your butt and felt a blush begin to bloom across your face. Trying to save yourself from doing something embarrassing or too forward, you dried your hands and reached into the cabinet for some glasses. “You want a drink?” You asked while turning to look over your shoulder. He glanced up at your face and nodded from where he still sat, sprawled out in the chair like a king. There was something beautiful about the way he looked. It was in the way he sort of just demanded attention with all that controlled power coiled so tensely in his tall frame. He graced you with another smirk that said, ‘I know what you’re thinking.’ And you flushed even though you knew it was impossible.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you grabbed your favorite whiskey from the liquor cabinet and made quick work producing two old fashioned’s. While you flexed your college bar tending skills, you heard his phone buzz on the dining table but you knew his eyes never left your direction. Rarely the subject of someone else’s focus, it was hard to miss the way his eyes felt on you. It was also a little unnerving. Rounding the counter, you handed one to Angel and took a seat across from him at the island, needing to put a little distance between you two. Taking a long sip, you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and you wondered what it would feel like under your lips. Maybe this was a bad idea, you thought, I need him out of here before I do something stupid. You put your glass down on the counter with a thud and set him with a hard look before attempting to break the silence. However he beat you to it. “So... the gun, Doc?” Angel asked as he rested the glass on his knee. You didn’t feel like getting in to your family bs with him but as he sat there staring at you pensively—almost like he was trying to figure you out, you had the uncharacteristic urge to spill your guts out. “My dad,” you responded while attempting to extract the bitterness out of your words. You realized you hadn’t been successful when his next question came. “Daddy issues I presume?” You have no idea, you thought to yourself. “He wanted a house full of boys, or at least one... my mom gave him 4 girls. And as the oldest, I got the brunt of all his passive resentment which he never did his best to hide. Not to mention being forced to go fishing and shooting, and playing ball... I mean not that I wanted to play Barbies all day but being the tomboy of my friends until I was 17 wasn’t exactly my idea of fun either.”

You were pretty sure you had vomited all of that up in one full breath and you threw back the remainder of your tumbler in order to avoid Angel’s reaction. Why am I avoiding him? He’s in my house. Uninvited. And he needs to leave. You had now arrived to the agitated portion of the evening. And if your temper was anything to go by, it was in everybody’s best interest if you were alone right now. “Why are you here Angel?” You tried to infuse your words with disdain, hoping your tone would force him to rethink his actions and leave. “I already told you Doc, didn’t think I’d be admitted in my current state,” he trailed off drinking a bit more of the amber liquid in his glass. “Besides, they’re quick to call the cops and I’m not looking for any trouble.” You raised your brow at the un-obvious irony of his words before responding. Angel was the definition of trouble and if he had any idea who your father was then he’d realize you were more trouble then you were worth too. Bringing you back to the present, he continued, “well that and I cant trust just anyone with this face querida,” his eyes lighting up with humor and mischief as he rose from the chair. Stalking towards you, your heartbeat began to fasten, the heat in his eyes unmistakeable. “Angel,” you breathed out when he stopped right in front of you. Standing nestled in between your legs, you rested a hand on his cut in a weak attempt to push him back. Grasping your chin, he tilted your face up towards him. “Tell me to go right now and I won’t kiss you,” he said searching your eyes for any signs that you didn’t want this. That you couldn’t feel the live wire that runs between you two. Staring into those chocolate eyes of his and seeing his genuine concern and hope, you didn’t give yourself time to think before closing the distance and kissing him.

When your lips touched, it was like heaven, making you forget why you were trying to avoid this in the first place. He groaned as your hands, and nails found purchase on his back and he wrapped you in his arms, pulling you closer to him. As the kiss turned from pensive and shy, to hungry and frantic, he lifted you up by your waist to sit you on top of the island, placing you at eye level with him. You stared at each other for half a second before colliding once more. No words were exchanged, all that could be heard were the smack of your stingy kisses and your whimpers. Snaking one hand into your hair and the other teasing up your slip to rest on your hips, you cry out when he grips a handful of your locks to tilt your head back. His sudden move, causes you to break your kiss with a gasp, arching forward into his body and moaning as his nose trails a path, down your cheek, under your jaw and back up to your ear. Slowly caressing the outer shell with his tongue, he whispers huskily, “you have no idea the level of restraint I’m enacting right now.” If this was restraint, what would it feel like when he lost it? He then moved on to that sweet spot, just below your ear, where your neck met and you swore you could see stars. Sucking and biting and kissing, he had unleashed a tidal wave of arousal that flooded your body– head to toe. Pure need. That’s all you could feel. With his left hand, his fingers pressed into that fleshy bit near your thighs, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of skin just above your hip bone. Your whole body shivered in response. He smiled, a genuine smile that nearly took your breath away as his right hand descended from your hair to lightly grasp at your throat. You went to lunge at his mouth again and his hand tightened ever so slightly, adding a level of eroticism that had your core pulsing. “Ah, ah, ah, cariña. I’m in the driver’s seat... You’ll get your turn.” You pouted and whined, eager to touch him and frustrated by his quest to map the expanse of exposed skin with his tongue.

He continued marking every inch of your chest, dipping right past the neckline of your top, making sure to give your cleavage some much appreciated attention but stopping just short of home plate. After doing this about 3 more times you’d had enough and was ready to give him a piece of your mind when his phone rang. With a deep sigh, he paused and gave you a quick kiss before reaching into his back pocket. “It’s Bishop, give me a second mi amor.” Hoping everything was ok, you nodded and watched as he answered the phone. He hadn’t moved from where he stood between your legs and as he talked, you watched entranced as his Adam’s apple moved in conjunction with his speech. Unable to help yourself, you leaned forward and kissed it. Loving the way it felt as he swallowed. When you playfully nibbled at the skin there, you felt him shiver. But you could also feel his body turning rigid. You knew whatever it was causing Bishop to call at 4:30 in the morning, couldn’t have been good and you started to worry. Leaning back to look at his face, you saw that Angel had shifted back into biker mode. You knew your play time was over and he had to leave. Feeling embarrassed over what had just taken place on your counter, you attempted to get down but his body was too hard and big to move around. He looked down and even as he was still on the phone, all his focus was on you. He placed a firm hand on your hip to keep you still as he wrapped up the call. “I’ll be there in 20 mins,” he said before hanging up. He stared at you with that unnerving gaze again and you felt ready to bolt. Deflecting you asked, “what’s going on?” He squinted at you before responding. “Cops picked up EZ on some bullshit while he was heading back into SP. Sheriff’s at the clubhouse tryna stir the pot. It’s fine, they got nothing.” You bristled a bit and looked past him as he explained but he caught it. “What’s wrong?” He asked, dipping his head down to look into your eyes. “Nothing but you need to go. If Bishop needs you, it’s important,” you said pushing him back to get some space. Once again, you attempts were futile. He wasn’t huge but the man felt like all muscle, you knew you’d hurt yourself before you ever hurt him. “It is...” he said, pausing to tilt your head back to look at him, “but so is this. And we aren’t finished.” Before you could argue, he dipped down and kissed you one last time, effectively shutting you up. Backing away, he grabbed his keys and headed towards the back door. “Goodnight cariña,” he said before ducking out. “Goodnight Angel.”

Listening as his Harley tore up the gravel pulling out your driveway, you were stuck in a daze as your phone started ringing. Turning your gaze to the stove, you saw the clock read 10 minutes to 5. Who the hell is calling me at 4:50 in the morning? Climbing down, you headed to the living room where the noise was coming from. Grabbing it off the coffee table, you turned the phone over to see it was your dad. Clicking the green button, you answered. “Where are you?” Your dad’s gruff voice came through the phone. “Well hello to you too Dad,” you rolled your eyes, plopping down on the couch. 5 am was exactly too early for your dad’s bs and you knew from personal experience there was no shortage of it. “I’m not in the mood for games. Where are you?” Sighing, you gave in to the inquisition. “I’m at home, why?” You could hear the bustle of people in the background and wondered what was going on. “Are you alone?” What? “Why does it matter? Why are you calling me at 5 in the morning?” Your temper was growing and you knew if you didn’t tamp it down, you’d be receiving another call from your mother following this one. Cue eye roll. “That’s not important,” he barked into the phone. You heard a door slam shut and the noise lessen considerably. You figured he was now in his car, away from listening ears. Too busy trying to deduce where he was, you were caught off guard when he continued. “What’s important is that one of my officers just saw a Harley peel out your driveway and down your street. Care to explain?” He asked in the same no nonsense tone he had been using on you since the day you’d learned how to say no to him. “Hmm? I wouldn’t know anything about that. Cause the only way someone would be able to know that, is if someone was sitting on my house. And I know there’s no one sitting on my house, right?” You posited back with the same ‘no-sh*t’ taking tone laced in your speech. You could almost say it was genetic. “Darling, I’m not in the mood,” you could tell he was trying to soften his speech but you weren’t falling for it.

Walking over to the window, you carefully pushed your curtains back, as the sun began to rise and swept a glance up and down the street. “Neither am I,” you responded. Taking into account all the familiar cars, both in and out of driveways, only a couple stood out. 3 cars to your left on the other side of the street sat an unmarked black sedan. On any other day, you probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought, however it was facing the opposite direction as if they had parked specifically so they could see who was coming and going. “I told you to stay away from those biker guys, I don’t need you wrapped up in their shit.” You briefly remembered a conversation about those “no good Mayans boys,” but his warning had gone in one ear and out the other. You hadn’t cared about your dad’s opinion on them because in the short time you had gotten to know Angel and his brothers, you knew their character and from what you could tell they were twice the men some of your father’s rookies were. “And I told you, there wasn’t anyone here. No need to worry dad, the only men in my life are elderly geriatrics who need me to change their bed pans every night. But if I did have a man, he would be more than capable of looking out for me and “my best interests.” So you can tell your guard dog in the black sedan to get lost.” You had said your piece and waited to see how your dad would play this. “I’m gonna start asking questions soon and if I don’t like the answers that come back, there will be some problems...” He trailed off and you could hear him pressing buttons before the sound of his car’s siren filled your ear. “I expect you at dinner tomorrow night. We’ll talk then.” He finished. Typical, of course he wouldn’t address the narc he had sitting outside. So pissed off, you hung up without saying goodbye.

Stopping to check in on the boys, you ducked your head in the room a couple doors down from the master and looked on as your oldest, Kai, slept. Smiling to yourself, you closed the door and went to the next one and saw that your youngest, Eli, had somehow kicked all the covers off his bed and was now sleeping upside down. Creeping in quietly, you grabbed the comforter off the floor and draped it over him so he wouldn’t catch a chill. Dropping a kiss to his forehead, you resumed your task of saving their father from himself. Walking downstairs you could hear Michael Buble’s “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas” playing and you began to hum along. Once in the kitchen, you could see that Buck had been busy. There was a plate of pancakes stacked a mile high and bacon and sausages on another. At the stove, where he stood with his back towards you, there was also biscuits and fruit. He had no sense of appropriate serving sizes and you had no idea who was eating all of this food. “What are you burning in here?” You asked playfully, leaning against the entrance to the kitchen. Shirtless and wearing pj pants with santa hat snoopy’s all over them, with a pan in one hand and a whisk in the other, Buck smiled at you sheepishly. You woke up next to the man pretty much every morning– firefighters kept odd hours, and you still were stunned by his beauty every time. “I couldn’t find the syrup so I figured I’d make my own but the recipe isn’t as easy as it looks,” he said. Trying not to laugh, you walked around the island to where he stood and took the pan and whisk from him, dropping them in the sink. “We’ll just start over,” you responded, looking up at him while kissing his bicep.

Grabbing all the correct ingredients and a new saucepan, you stood at the stove and began brought the sugar and butter to a boil. You worked together in a comfortable silence as Whitney Houston filled the space with Christmas cheer. As you slowly stirred the contents of the pot, you felt Buck walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your midsection. “Good morning Mrs. Buckley,” he whispered, dropping a kiss on your exposed shoulder. 3 years in the game and he still got a kick out of calling you his wife. And while they hadn’t come without their hardships, each year kept getting better and better. Not to mention those beautiful boys upstairs who at 5 and 3, kept you on your toes like nobody’s business. “Good morning Mr. Buckley,” you said snuggling into his touch. With one hand stirring the post and the other wrapped behind you in his hair, he made a low groan of approval causing you to smile. “Think we can sneak away before the boys wake up?” He asked and you giggled. The man was always hungry for a taste of you and while you were never known to leave him waiting, you were about to have a full house and you still had to get ready for company. “Nope, because you decided to invite everyone over for breakfast at ours and I still have to make French toast because you know Kai hates pancakes.” You responded jokingly with sass. Groaning, he hid his face in your neck as you turned the stovetop off. “Oh stop being melodramatic, you can wait,” you said rolling your eyes. Going to grab a bowl for the syrup, Buck smacked your butt while you were reaching in the cabinet. “Buck!” You exclaimed, reaching down to where his hand made contact. Seeing that devious twinkle in his eye, you knew you were in for it later and he simply smirked and went to set the table.

The moment the French toast was ready, you could hear your sons barreling down the stairs. “Mom, dad!! There’s snow outside!!” They exclaimed. It had been light all week leading up to Christmas and not enough to truly play in, so you were glad a sizable amount came down while you slept. This was their first time seeing snow as they were true LA kids, accustomed to sun and sand and spending their Christmases at the beach. “Good morning to you too,” you laughed as Kai wrapped you in a hug. Eli ran to his dad who picked him up, tossing him in the air. “Can we go outside, please? Please?” He begged in between squeals. “You gotta ask your mom buddy,” Buck responded while kissing the top of his head. “Mommy please?” Eli asked, turning around towards you. “Please?” Kai said mimicking him. You had two pairs of the purest puppy dog eyes staring at you, well three if you count your husband. “Fine. But only for 20 minutes,” you say in faux exasperation, while the boys cheer. “Family is on the way and you guys can go back out after breakfast!” You called out behind them as they hurried to the front door for their boots and coats. Knowing their only focus was on getting outside, you yelled out to your husband, “I’m serious Buck, 20 mins!!” No doubt, he was as excited as they were, you set an alarm on your phone and got back to finishing breakfast.

When the alarm went off, you heard a knock at the back door and saw it was your sister-in-law Maddie, with Chim carrying a bottle of wine and some cookies. “Hi sis, Merry Christmas,” she said as you opened the door. “Merry Christmas,” you said, giving them both hugs and inviting them in. “You can put the plate down on the island Chim,” you said in the direction of the kitchen where he had wandered. “Where are the boys?” Maddie asked, looking around. “Outside in the snow, they ganged up on me with the puppy eyes,” you said, voice full of laughter. “All 3 of them?” She asked. “All 3,” you said shaking your head. “I’m gonna go get them and get changed, do you think you could watch over everything for a bit? Bobby, Athena and the kids will probably be another 30 mins,” you asked her. “Not a problem, I’m gotta make the ‘Buckley family eggnog’ anyway,” she said shooing you out the kitchen.

Quickly throwing your coat on, you opened the door to rally your boys. Not too far from the doorstep, you watched as Buck coached them on the best way to make snow angels. Your heart warmed as you watched him pass on traditions to the kids that he remembered fondly from his childhood. You stood and let them play for a couple more minutes. “Cmon boys! Time to get ready for breakfast,” you yelled out. “5 more minutes please,” they groaned, sniffling from the cold. “Not a chance,” you called back. “It’s time to eat and you both need more layers.” The last thing you needed was anyone of them getting sick. Kai started to protest but Buck placed a hand on his shoulder and he stopped. “Listen to your mom bud,” he said ruffling the kid’s hair. With that the boys made their way back to the house, taking off their outerwear. About to head off into the kitchen, you stop them. “Uh-uh. Upstairs, wash your hands and change your clothes. Come on,” directing them upstairs. “You too, Mr.” you said looking at Buck.

When you finally made it back downstairs, the house was full. “Ahh the queen of Christmas has arrived,” Athena announced as she wrapped you in a hug. Smiling back at her you said, “Merry Christmas Athena.” She let you go and you looked over at the massive tree Buck had got for the living room and saw that more presents had been added while you were pulling yourself together. You went around and gave everybody hugs and stopped by the couch where Chim was on FaceTime with Hen, who was spending the holidays with Karen’s family on the east coast. “Merry Christmas Hen!” You said into the phone. “Merry Christmas doll! You give those rowdy boys of yours kisses for me, ok?” She said. “Will do!” In the kitchen, Buck was on the phone with Eddie and Christopher and he handed the phone to you as Chris wanted to talk to his favorite auntie for Christmas. “Hi pumpkin,” you cooed into the phone. He launched into a full replay of his morning so far telling you about all the gifts he had gotten and thanked you for the Nintendo switch you, Buck and the boys had gifted him. Eddie had taken him home to Texas to visit family and the boys were gutted they wouldn’t be able to give him his present in person so they wrapped it early and gave it to Eddie before he left to put under the tree on their behalf. Once he let you go, Maddie sidled up beside you and handed you a glass of nog. “It’s got a little something special in it,” she whispered in your ear. You chuckled, taking a sip and enjoying the smoky undertone of cinnamon and bourbon. “Thank you,” you said while bumping her hip.

Around 3 or 4, you guys moved the party to the bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon falling in and out of sleep and moved on to the Fast franchise. You were woken up around 10pm, feeling incredibly nauseous. Trying to keep it down and not wake up Steve, who was fast asleep and snoring next to you. One arm draped over his eyes and the other around your pillow, he had somehow kicked all the covers off his body and was one turn away from rolling off the bed. Hunched over, you crawled out of bed and walked to your en-suite bedroom. Sitting on the side of the tub, a heavy wave of sickness hit you and you lunged for the toilet, barely making it. You spent a couple minutes heaving before it subsided and you could feel a fever beginning to form. Hoping to regulate your temperature you laid down on the cold tile floors and took deep breaths. Your throat felt tight and you figured you should probably get some fluids in you so you headed downstairs to the kitchen.

After creeping past Steve and cracking the door behind you, you ventured in the dark for a glass of water. Thankfully you knew the layout of the house like the back of your hand and you were able to make it to the fridge without tripping over yourself, which you were known to do. After making yourself a glass of water, you sat down at the island and took slow sips, not wanting to upset your stomach any further. You knew you had sort of went crazy with your eating choices over the last week, what with all the holiday parties and get togethers, but not enough that your insides would revolt on you like this. You spent some time reviewing everything you had ate that day and the day before, trying to pinpoint the moment you went wrong but when you came up blank, you laid your head down on the cool granite and tried to will your stomach to relax.

At some point you must’ve fallen asleep because you woke up and the clock on the stove read 11:15pm. Wiping the drool off the side of your mouth, you turned your head towards the living room when you heard Steve’s voice. “You know we have beds for that sort of thing,” he said. There was a playful lilt to his voice and if you squinted hard enough you would’ve been able to see the faint smirk playing on his lips. “Was I snoring? Did I wake you?” You asked as he came further in the kitchen. Stretching your arms above your head, your shirt– which was really his shirt, began to lift and Steve’s eyes followed the movement while he absentmindedly licked his lips. “I turned over and you weren’t there, I figured you came out here to watch tv or something but I found you here, knocked out.” He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water and chugged it. You watched intently as his Adam’s Apple bobbed and you felt a sudden urge to kiss him but you desperately needed to brush your teeth before you so much as breathed in another person’s direction, so you fought the reaction. “No, I just didn’t feel good and needed something to drink, that’s all.” You responded. Turning to you with concern written across his face, he asked “what’s wrong?” You shook your head, “Nothing, probably all the junk I ate these last two days. I’m fine.” You could tell he wasn’t 100% sold but he didn’t push. “Ok, you want some tea? It might help ease whatever it is bothering you.” He was scrounging through the cabinets looking for your tea chest. “To your left babe. And sure. But can you make it the special way?” You asked. Once he found what he was looking for, he placed it on the counter and nodded, moving to grab two cups. When you were little your mom would always make you her “midnight magic” tea when you didn’t feel well or couldn’t fall asleep. It was basically just sleepytime tea with a few added ingredients but as a kid it always seemed like some sort of special potion and you loved whenever she would make it. Your mom passed down the recipe and all it’s ingredients the year you moved out your childhood home and you would make it every once in awhile when you had trouble sleeping. Steve brought the tea to a boil on the stove and poured some in a mug for you before grabbing the cinnamon, sugar, chocolate and milk. However the moment he opened up the carton, your stomach flip flopped and you knew if you didn’t move you were gonna have a mess on your hands.

Running to the guest bathroom off the living room, you heard Steve calling your name but you couldn’t answer. You were afraid what would happen if you opened your mouth. Bent over the toilet bowl, you continue to hack up fluids and air, your stomach contracting and your throat sore. You were so confused, you literally just made that same tea the night before Christmas. Charlie couldn’t sleep and Grace had wanted to learn how to make it so she could do it at home and not once did the milk make you sick. You felt your hair being removed from your back and you knew Steve had joined you. Handing you a hair tie, you fit as much of it as you could on top of your head and took the cool washcloth he handed you and laid it across your forehead. “What do you need?” He asked. “Water,” you coughed out. You made another lunge for the bowl as he hurried back into the kitchen. You stood up and reached for the mouthwash under the sink and gargled for a bite before running the washcloth under more cool water for your head. Opening the medicine cabinet, you looked to see if there was any ibuprofen that you could take. Laxatives, midol, tooth relief, mucinex, but no headache medicine. Oh and your birth control. As your hunt was unsuccessful, you were moving to close the cabinet door when you looked more closely at your contraceptives. The last three weeks were still full. When were they even here in the hall closet? All of a sudden everything made sense and clarity hit you like a brick wall. “Oh sh*t,” you said aloud. “What? What’s wrong?” You looked up in the mirror to see Steve standing behind you, looking a bit anxious with a glass of water in his hand. Needing a moment to process, you answered quickly, “um I need some ibuprofen, do you think you can get me some?” A brief moment of confusion passed over his features before he responded, “yeah, there some in our bathroom.” As he left, you gripped the counter and willed your self to calm down. Ok. Wow. I’m pregnant, you thought. Can I do this? Can I be a mom? Does Steve even want to be a dad? Oh my gosh. You could feel your heart began to beat rapidly and knew you were moments away from a panic attack. You hadn’t had one in ages but you knew the signs and your brain and body were not functioning in tandem at the moment.

When Steve returned to you, he noticed you shaking and murmuring to yourself and knew something was up. “Hey, hey. Look at me. Look at me.” You struggled to take your focus off the floor but found his face and held his gaze. “Repeat after me. 10, 9, 8, 7, 4, 2, 1.” He had learned that its hard for the brain to go into overdrive when having to recite things, like numbers, out of order. The trick came in handy whenever your anxiety would flare and was his go-to to bring you back center. “10, 9, 8, 7.... 6,” you attempted to recite his phrase as your breaths began to even out and your heart rate returned to a normal rhythm. “Don’t say nothing’s wrong because you haven’t had a panic attack like this in months. What is going on?” Steve stood at the doorway and watched as you sat on the toilet and nodded at the medicine cabinet. “Bottom shelf,” you said and waited for him to figure it out. Still lost, he turned to open it and looked at the contents. “Ok, what am I looking at?” Picking up the silver sheet of pills, he turned it over, still confused. “My birth control.” It took about a minute for the confusion to subside and he looked up at you with a questioning gaze. “Are you saying...” he started to ask before his words trailed off. “I don’t know how I forgot about it. I don’t even know why it’s in here and not in our bathroom. But I think–I think I’m pregnant.”

You watched as a million emotions crossed his face before he abruptly turned to you and asked, “are you sure?” You nodded, “I haven’t had my period this month, its pretty regular. I thought it was just the stress of the holidays but I’m pretty sure.” There was a bit of silence before you spoke again. “I’m sorry, I know we’ve never talked about kids. And I know you’re good with Grace and Charlie but that doesn’t mean you want your own.” You were sort of stumbling over your words at this point and you could feel tears starting to blur your vision. You were so lost in all the what if’s of your new reality that you didn’t notice that Steve was on the ground kneeling in front of you. Grabbing you face, a small smile spread across his lips as he said, “we’re pregnant.” A small tear slipped from one of your eyes as your head moved up and down vigorously. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “For what? This is the best gift you’ve given me babe.” Now you were the one confused. Ready to launch into a thousand questions, he stopped you before you could start, wrapping you in a kiss so scorching, you felt your toes curl. When you broke apart, you sucked in big gulps of air as he ran his hand down the front of your shirt. “I’m gonna be a dad.” He said to no one in particular. “You’re happy?” You asked. Of course you prefer this response to him being upset or mad, but you were shocked at how well he was taking this. “That I’m going to experience parenthood with you? Yeah. There’s a magical thing happening inside of you right now and there’s no gift in the world that could top this.” Giving you another kiss, you wrapped your arms around him and felt a little more of your worry subside. When you came up for air, with humor laced in your tone, you asked “Even better than the new tac belt I just got you?” Smiling at you, he responded, “even better.”