#laceyxwill

Will chuckled, warmth glimmering in his eyes as he kissed her forehead. “Is cleaning dishes literal dirty talk to you, or do I need to re-evaluate my approach here?”

Lacey’s hand slid into his back pocket, and subconsciously, his stance straightened to accommodate her search. “To be fair, she is under a year old,” he said. “I doubt either of us knew much of anything at that age, either…just that we were hungry or needed our diaper changed. Exciting times.”

With a lopsided smile, Will drew his arm around Lacey and encouraged her to move in front of him, now embracing her from behind as he continued to wash a grimy pan. “You can always get dirty with me,” he teased.

The corners of her lips quirked upwards as his lips met her forehead. “It’s only dirty as long as the dishes are dirty. Once they’re clean, you have to find other creative outlets to keep me going.”

While one hand was content, Lacey used the other to slip the baby monitor into his free back pocket, safe from the splash zone. “But that’s my point,” Lacey said, “Because she doesn’t understand anything, we can get away with saying as much raunchy shit we want around her, so long as little Mr. Smarty-Pants isn’t nearby. I was changing Ava’s diaper the other day and she was crying, and Eli says, ‘She’s hungry Mummy. You have to feed her, not change her,’ with so much sass. Excuse me, little buddy...” Still, Lacey chuckled at the memory. He was too smart for his own good.

It was promising when Will shifted and put his arms around her, but when he positioned her in front of the sink, she scoffed. “Is this your way of passing the dishes off to me? No way,” Lacey said, but he lifted a pan on his own and started scrubbing. The quiet was nice. It was rare they could enjoy it for long before passing out. 

Though Will and Irene butt heads, it was actually rather helpful for her to be there-- especially while Will was at work. The bigger Lacey got, the more painful it was to move around, and Elijah wasn’t the type to sit still all day. He liked to chase the dogs and play in the snow. He liked to jump and dance and play hide and seek. Lacey tried to entertain him as much as she was physically able, but there were times when she couldn’t be there the way he wanted her. Her mother could be. In fact, Elijah more often went to Irene when he wanted some action, as she was a new face who could provide new fun. The occasional looks of exhaustion and distaste her mother gave her that came with handling a messy toddler provided Lacey some added amusement.

Occasionally, Lacey experienced a light contraction. She could see how they made Will stiffen, how he started paying more attention to the time when she had one, but they were far and few in between. She was still about a week from her due date. Since Elijah came so early, they were prepared for the same, but she technically wasn’t supposed to have a baby just yet. 

She’d been woken by a contraction that morning, but didn’t think much of it. Will had lingered around probably longer than he should have before heading to work-- taking extra time to make sure Elijah was fed and ready for the day, lingering over the dog’s food-- but in the end, Lacey told him to go. It was just one contraction.

At least, that was what she thought. 

It was about eleven o’clock in the morning when she began watching the clock. By one o’clock, she knew these weren’t just false contractions-- they weren’t exact, but she had roughly fifteen minutes between them. She was making Elijah lunch when another hit, solidifying her concerns. This wasn’t just a rough day. This was it.

Her mother rose from her position at the table beside Elijah-- who was coloring as he waited for his food-- and rested her hand on Lacey’s elbow. “Okay, okay,” she murmured, smoothing her mother hand over Lacey’s back as she grimaced. “Put the knife down, will you?” Lacey didn’t think she was at risk of hurting herself, but for the sake of her mother, she listened. As the tightening in her core slowly released its grip on her, she exhaled, and Irene nodded. “I think it’s time, hm? Why don’t we head out--?”

“It’s too soon, Mum,” Lacey murmured. “Five to seven minutes.” Her mother grumbled something about Will that Lacey didn’t quite catch, but she rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m waiting for Will. I can make it another few hours, he’ll be home then--.”

“You live out in the middle of nowhere. You’ll have the kid in the car if you wait much longer. I won’t have that.” There was the unspoken, ‘not with how the last time went.”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “That’s not true,” she said. Still, her lips curled inward, and she sucked in a breath through her nose. Behind her, Elijah crooned, ‘Muuuuummy...’ She passed the peanut butter and jelly sandwich to her mother. “Give this to him. I’m going to make a call.” 

Before her mother could make any retort, Lacey waddled out of the room to grab her phone off the coffee table. Carefully, she lowered herself to the couch, a sigh of relief escaping her when she made it. She clicked on her recent contacts, his number, and waited. It was only a few rings before he answered. “Hi,” she said, tone relaxed. “Where are you?” If he was coming home, she wouldn’t say anything about the contractions until he arrived. 

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She always rose to attention at the sound of a loud thump. What followed after determined whether or not she explored the origin of the noise. She lifted her gaze from her laptop and listened. Upon hearing Will’s incoherent (though no doubt, colorful) grumble from the other side of the wall, she determined he didn’t demand her immediate attention. 

It wasn’t long before he was in the doorway with angry eyes as he held his own hand. Lacey stifled a laugh. She wasn’t exactly successful. He must have been fixing something– he was always fixing something– and missed the nail with his hammer.

Chuckling, Lacey pushed her laptop to the side and rose from her perch at the counter and came around to inspect the damage done. Already, the area was angry and red. Though there was still a laugh on her lips, she leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to the back of his hand. It would likely be black and blue in the morning.

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@empathicdesign

who spends hours putting up lights only to get tangled in them and storm off?It’s a tossup, but I think ultimately Will. It’s Lacey’s favorite holiday, and even if she got frustrated, I think she would still see it through. Will would likely be trying to do it for her, and then would have Lacey being like “wait...do it like this,” and he would be like GDIT!!! YOU DO IT!

who accidentally eats a whole box of christmas chocolates in one sitting?Lacey, pregnant or not, lol

who insists on watching the cheesey hallmark christmas movies?Lacey DEFINITELY. She knows they’re bad, but still makes Will watch them with her because she enjoys it.

who insists on playing nothing but michael buble in the few days running up to christmas?I suppose Lacey, but even she would like more variety than the Buble. Will probably gets sick of it REALLY fast though. 

who gets their presents wrapped at the mall so the other cant go snooping.

Will probably LOL. He knows Lacey is a snoop.

who insists on making snow angels?Normally Lacey, but these days with her limited mobility, it’s Elijah who stops every 10 feet to make snow angels because his parents were fools that taught him about the activity.

who put christmas outfits on all the pets?Lacey, which Will calls animal abuse.

Do they go to family’s or have a quiet day in?Since all of Will’s living relatives are distant and Irene is all Lacey has, it’s normally a quiet day in. Sometimes her mother will crash the party, however.

who insists on wearing matching ugly christmas jumpers?LACEY! The whole family will match, whether Will likes it or not. B)

Who waits up until midnight to give the other their present?This would probably be Will, though he would have a hard time initially getting her to wake up so he could give her said gift lol.

Who insists on hand-made presents only one year?I could see both of them suggesting it but not actually following through with it-- not because they didn’t want to, but because they lost track of time and it was too late. 

Who puts mistletoe on every door frame?I was going to say Lacey, but I could see Will doing it to kind of poke fun at her Christmas spirit. It’s debatable whether or not it backfires, because she adheres to it every time they are under a doorframe.

Who gets too drunk at the work christmas party and has to be picked up at 9:15pm?LACEY LMAO (obviously not right now). It pisses Will off, but she’s in the passenger seat slurring about him being grouchy but that she loves him.

If Will had been home when she took the test, Lacey would have told him right away, but as she reached for her phone she paused. Father’s Day was just around the corner. What better gift could there be than that of fatherhood? She had already been saying her morning sickness and drowsiness was probably a flu-- as she hadn’t wanted to falsely get his hopes up. When Lacey found out she was pregnant with Elijah, she waited around two weeks before telling Will. She could wait five days.

Though once she knew, the words were always just behind her teeth. There were several instances she thought she wouldn’t make it, but she managed to hold her tongue. Some time during the week, she stopped by a store to pick up a little blue shirt for Elijah that read “Big Brother” on the little breast pocket. She doubted Will would notice-- maybe after she dropped the news, but it would be her little secret up until then.

That morning, Lacey took another test while Will let out the dogs, as if necessary to solidify her results. With only two minutes, there it was-- a little plus sign. Somehow, this test was even more real than the last. She was expecting again, and it was finally time to tell him. She was a strange mix of choked up and giddy as she capped off the test, put it back in the box, and wrapped it up.

Lacey took Elijah back to his room to get him dressed for the day and into a fresh diaper. He played with the rectangular box, but she didn’t let him open it. “It’s not for you,” she gently reminded as he pulled at the decorative paper. “Maybe he’ll let you open it with him.”

“No!” the toddler said.

“Okay, you don’t have to open it with him.” She took the box and slipped it into her back pocket. Adjusting her son’s shirt, she lifted him off the changing table and moved out the nursery. Elijah tried reaching over her shoulder for his makeshift toy, but his little fingers wouldn’t reach her pockets.

“I’m thinking of taking some time off the Bureau,” Lacey began, voice casual as she entered the living room with Elijah. “Not tomorrow or anything. Maybe in a couple of months though. I don’t think I’ve done that since...ever.”

@empathicdesign

Lacey was washing up the lunch of mashed peas (that, to her pleasure, her son actually seemed to enjoy) when Jack Crawford called her. Apparently, there was something they were working on that Jack thought her expertise would be good for. The thought excited Lacey, she liked being needed, but with Will already somewhere at the Bureau, what to do with the baby became an issue.

They didn’t have a babysitter at their disposal. Her mother was back in Europe somewhere. Jack didn’t need her in a few hours, he needed her now. She couldn’t call Will back to watch their son, because he was working too. As a result, Lacey was not only getting herself ready for work, but their son. It wasn’t like they’d be out in the field. Jack could deal.

It was clear that infants were rarely on FBI grounds due to the strange looks she received, but Lacey didn’t pay them much attention. It wasn’t like she could afford to anyway, as Elijah had fallen asleep in the car and was still groggy. He’d grow cranky if a sudden noise jostled him.

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@empathicdesign​

After the Lecter case came to a close, her services were called upon less frequently by the Bureau. Protocol became important again. When she had first started working with them, she wasn’t even the legal age to join the FBI. On top of her not being an American citizen, the bureau started waning her off work. She was a liability. And once she and Will broke up, she saw no reason for her to be in America any longer. Why renew her visa if there was nothing keeping her there in the first place? So four months later, she moved to London. She let Jack know with an email, and that was it. 

Fives years in London changed everything. Lacey had never settled in one place for longer than two years-- so she never had the chance to build a name for herself. With a stable presence in London, she worked alongside the Scotland Yard and Sherlock Holmes (when John Watson wasn’t in the mood) and was able to make something. People started coming to her, requesting her work. Her work of thievery disappeared into her work of secrets. Her mother’s name came up, it never escaped her, but she had finally stopped being the daughter of The Woman and became Lacey Adler. 

She was at Sherlock’s flat when she got the call from Jack. It had been five years since she’d left, and five years since she’d heard anything. Initially, she assumed it was a mistake and didn’t plan on answering. Sherlock was the one who wanted to know what it was all about. He was bored. 

Jack needed her for a case. He couldn’t give the specifics over the phone, as he felt it wasn’t secure enough, but he assured her it was important. She reminded him of her current residence, and he insisted he knew. If it was any trouble, he could fly her in. She must have been able to do something better than he thought his men could do it. Maybe he was just desperate. Maybe it was both. 

Lacey didn’t know why she said yes, but she did. She had plenty of work in London waiting for her. It wasn’t like Lacey was starved for cash anymore-- sure, she wasn’t raking it in, but she was comfortable enough. Perhaps it was the need for a change in scenery. Perhaps it was Sherlock urging her to “show off to the Americans”. She’d grown up, and so had her skills. Sherlock always said any opportunity to impress was a good one. 

Three days later, she was walking down the familiar-but-not halls of the Bureau. Jack had told her to meet him in his office, where they would discuss the case. Though polished as ever, she stopped in the restroom to smooth at her black pencil skirt and blouse. She was pushing thirty now, but she wasn’t exactly old. Would they think she was old? Brushing her loose curls over her shoulder, she was out. 

The office door was held slightly ajar, so she hesitated in front of it before knocking. “Room for one more?” she called, peaking in with a soft smile.