bakerstreet | BABIES! BABIES EVERYWHERE. [THE MEME]

BABIES! BABIES EVERYWHERE. [THE MEME]

photo happy_baby_picture1_zpsbfb551fa.jpg

Ah spring. The time for flowers, grass, baby animals, and babies. Yes, with the end of winter comes new creatures including babies.

GUESS WHO JUST GOT ONE.

You and your partner have a baby. Suddenly. Out of the blue. What does it look like? What does it's future look like? You can either plan out this hellspawn hellion child or you can hit the RNG below for things you can do with your new bundle of joy.

IN SUMMARY
1. YOU HAVE A BABY CONGRATS.
2. Figure out where/how you got it what it looks like and some basic traits.
3. Either take it away with you ...
4. ... Or hit the RNG below.

1. BABY I ADORE YOU You've got the little critter home and are adjusting to the schedule of a newborn creature. Basically ... you're living on it's schedule. Good luck.

2. TOYS! Are you spoiling the kid? Is the kid spoiling you? Babies need to be played with. It's like the sims. Otherwise they're not interesting like at all.

3. FOOD AND DRINK Just like with pets, houseplants, and cars - babies need to be fed and taken care of. enjoy the perils of something that doesn't particularly have a lot of control over itself yet.

4. THE GREAT WIDE WORLD Take the baby outside! Introduce it to others! Show it grass! flowers! taunt it with things it cannot do yet! (That's right kiddo, one day you will be able to walk BUT FOR NOW...)

5. GROWING UP IS HARD TO DO Toddler/Child/Teenager option. It's not a baby anymore it's another person that owes you it's life. Granted most of us don't realize we owe our parents that much until we're out of the nest. What did it do? Take the car? Smear paint on the walls? eat a pan full of half baked brownies?

What's that? Looking for something a little more serious? These are more to your liking then.

6. HEIR TO DESTINY IF WE CAN GET YOU THERE. Congratulations your child is the heir to incredible skill, a fortune, a family curse, or something else entirely. Holding it in your arms you are confronted with the possibility it might be a hard road to get this child to their birth right. Are you prepared to do what it takes?

7. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN A - Deal with disappointment. Procreation is a hard business. You were hoping for a [INSERT GOAL HERE] but it's a [INSERT BABY HERE]. How do you cope?

8. BABY ON THE RUN You gave birth in hiding and secret, you're running FROM someone. How do you cope with the challenges of a child while living in hiding? Is this child an heir to Destiny?

9. ROSEMARY'S BABY This baby is not yours. It was put there by an entity or by someone else - this child's very presence however will change everything in your universe. How does it feel to have roving bands of cults worshiping it?

10. WILDCARD Take your new baby and do what you will with it. Just remember it's a child and a baby. Don't eat it or hurt it for the sake of the meme (because the meme maker was unsure if a content warning would be needed.)

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[ They were going to name him Paul, but as god mother to-be (and determined to be the most magical of fairy god mothers) she puts together a carefully hypothesized and well reasoned lecture as to why they shouldn't — you're either deaf or you're not hearing the alliteration between -aul and -call, but either way you're just priming him for lyrical mocking. In the end, however even she can't make up for their lack of creativity, but Scott McCall already has a ring to it, and Scott Jr. is adorable.

He has really big brown eyes, and unreasonably thick black hair for an infant. She calls him Scottie Dog when there's no one else around, jumps at every opportunity to babysit she can without looking over eager, and fawns over him constantly. He never cries, and can even smile at three months which makes her heart melt when she tries to teach him his ABC's (a bit prematurely, yes, but one can never get a jumpstart on education) and he just gurgles at him.

And while she loves this kid, and his parents (at least him mom), and as much and she's glad they listened to her, sometimes they're downright stupid.

She discovers this — for the umpteenth time — when rooting through Jr.'s diaper bag with the baby in the middle of the living room floor, making vain attempts at rolling over on his changing mat. There's every single onesie from the baby section at Macy's, but absolutely no diapers. Wipes and butt paste and pacifiers, sure, but diapers.

It's okay, though. She has a built in diaper delivery service just once text away. ]

I need diapers. Huggies Little Snugglers, Snugglers Size 1 with the Winnie The Pooh print.

[It's been years since Derek first came back to Beacon Hills, and when he thinks back on all those intervening years he's more than a little amazed that they even survived, let alone made it far enough that Scott and Allison got married, that Stiles went off to college and came back with a forest of tattoos on his arms and a swagger in his step, that Lydia has basically become the de facto babysitter for the McCall brood (so maybe calling one baby a "brood" is preemptive, but he knows those two are going to have a veritable litter of pups, so he feels justified), which of course means that he's been roped into child-care duties as well.

When he gets Lydia's text, he doesn't even blink, just pauses the TiVo'd game and sighs, getting up and getting his keys, his jacket, and his wallet. It's time for a diaper run.]

Yes, your highness.

[He gets the most interesting looks when he hits up Rite-Aid to collect the very specific brand of diapers he was instructed to find, his basket quickly filling up with other baby-related things that he thinks might be relevant to what's going on. Lydia didn't really give him much to go on apart from the whole diaper thing, so... There's formula and Baby's First Cereal flakes or something, yet another rattle because he knows that wolves will make anything a chew toy given the right incentive, as well as a six pack of beer for him because if he's going to be looking after a baby that isn't his, he's going to be drinking while he does it.

The beer gets some raised eyebrows at checkout, but he just gives the elderly lady behind the register a sheepish smile and shrugs a little and she clearly takes pity on him, assuming he's a new parent just trying to cope.

Well, sort of.]

[ She has something salty to respond with, but Scottie Dog starts wibbling and her attention snaps back to the baby on the floor. She coos, Aw, it's alright sweetheart, don't cry, and kneels on the carpet to divest the adorable lump of his wet diaper.

She makes due without diapers until he gets there: fetches a dish rag and lays it over his waist like a makeshift nappy before lowering herself onto her elbows over the baby to hum at him. Really, it's so easy to entertain a small child, just make faces at them, blow raspberries in their stomachs and every once and a while let her the tips of her hair brush across his face. Getting sneezed on was never fun, but Jr. had gotten over his little cold since last week and just gaggles.

At one point she gets up and unlocks the door, so by the time Derek arrives, she's reclined on her side by the baby, poking his protruding stomach and singing the ABC's. If not only her god son, this kid is her pet project and will be a genius no matter how emotionally and intellectually constipated his parents were. He's already ahead of the game with the infantile werewolf senses; Derek's close, and she can tell because he goes rigid and stares at the door to the apartment (living at home lost it's appeal really quickly, no matter how much her mother wanted to make up for being inattentive during the end of her high school career) like an over eager puppy.

But Lydia waits until the door actually opens to call: ]

Look, Scott, your favorite uncle's here. And he brought you diapers~

Edited 2013-03-19 05:05 (UTC)

[Derek lets himself into Lydia's apartment, his bags of treats handing from his wrists, kicking the door shut behind him before he turns his attention to the center of the room where his pack-nephew is wriggling around, Lydia curled up beside him, her hair cascading down to the floor around her. He can't help the smile that forms on his face, genuine and painfully fond. Scott Jr is too young to know to reach out for Derek when he appears, but there's a spark of recognition there, a cub reacting to its Alpha, and Derek knows that within a few months, little Scottie Dog here will be wiggling his way over as soon as Derek walks through the doors.]

Yes I did, [he almost sing-songs, walking into the room and dropping down to the floor in front of them both, handing the bag with the diapers and stuff over to Lydia and dropping a kiss to her hair before turning his attention to Scott.

It would stand to reason that a man as gruff as Derek wouldn't be great with kids, but people seem to forget that he grew up in a big family, had younger siblings and even younger cousins that he either had to take care of or volunteered to watch to avoid doing other lame things like spending time with his parents. He knows how babies work, which is why he has no problem reaching down and scooping Scott up, cuddling him up to his chest and ducking his head to breathe in clean baby smells, letting Scott nuzzle him back. They tend to grow out of the need in time, but werewolves scent each other upon meeting, and with cubs, they tend to do it every time they see someone.]

Have you been looking out for your Aunt Lydia, cub?

[ Google and Animal Planet could only teach one so much about werewolf pack dynamics. A majority of it had to be instinctual for the werewolves, or learned first hand by being in such close association to a group of them, which Lydia is trying her best at. Has been for years, and while she doesn't always partake in their customs, she thinks by now she understands them. Even finds them important, which is why she gets so smug and prideful every time she sees Derek snuggle Scott Jr., because they're bonding and that's important between kids and their elders.

She leaves them to it, sits up and drags his shopping into her lap and gutting it. The diapers first, then the formula, rattle (to go with the five or so maimed ones in the baby bag), snacks. The six pack she leaves at the bottom of the brown paper bag, rolling her eyes and citing him for inappropriateness. One does not drink while watching baby, even if one cannot get properly drunk (or even buzzed from this), so she's probably going to make her way into the kitchen to hide this. ]

Oh no, he's been giving me all sorts of trouble, [ Lydia sighs with poorly veiled sarcasm. She rips the plastic diaper packaging open daintily along the seam and pulls out one of the absorbent wraps before tossing it in their direction. ] So you can change him.

[ While she plays the useless game hide the beer under the pretext of putting groceries away in the little kitchenette over by the door. ]

Coward, [he accuses her, acting like he's not pressing his lips to the tufts of dark hair on Scott's head, isn't nuzzling this little baby on her living room floor. The diaper gets caught, however, and it doesn't take him long to have his nephew spread out on the dish towel Lydia had been using as is diaper, the actual diaper splayed beneath him. Some quick lifting and tugging later and Scott is back in his proper Winnie the Pooh diapers once more, looking happy as a clam to have a dry butt and people he loves nearby. He smells of contentment, as much as babies can really project scents, which in turn serves to make Derek relax too, twisting around until he can lie down flat on his back and settle Scott on his chest.

He lets the baby grasp his fingers and then sets about to dance with him, wiggling his little arms and grinning in response to the toothless laughs this elicits Scott's chubby face shining at him from down at his chest.]

[ She accepts his accusation with a roll of the eyes and a dismissive swish of her skirt when she stands and leaves them. The formula goes in the cupboard with the other container she had in stock (in stock, but less than half full, and Scott ate, so it was good of him to pick up some more), and the baby cereal goes on the counter next to her Special K. The beer she hides in the oven, opening and closing the fridge to throw him off the trail in case he's listening and also so as to help herself to some of the grapes she'd bought yesterday.

Lydia returns to the living room chewing, pauses by the couch to pick up her phone again and flips it open to activate the camera. She kneels gracefully next to the dancing (could you call that dancing? you could call it adorable!) pair and grins. ] You're cute, [ she informs them — yes, both of them — and snaps a quick picture that she'll probably sneakily show off to everyone else later. ]

Scott and Allison went to the movies, so I have him until 8 if you want to stay.

[He can hear her opening the oven first, he knows what she's done with the beer. He'll go find it later, though, since right now he's got his hands full with squirmy baby and he doesn't mind putting off drinking especially since it's not like it'll do anything for him really.

He grins at Lydia when she waltzes back into the room, even smiles for her as she takes a picture — Derek has mellowed out a lot since they first met — and goes so far as to twist when she settles down beside them, shifting so that his head lands in her lap and he can rest against her. He nods, diving his attention between the baby starfishing on his chest and the girl above him.]

I'd like that.

[She gets another upside-down smile for that.]

[ Hush, she is an excellent hider and will insist so forever and a day while idly carding her fingers through his hair. ]

We're going to watch some Thomas And Friends, [ Lydia announces with verve suggesting that, well, if he wasn't sold just by the adorable kid and excellent company, he'd certainly be sold by their excellent entertainment choice and well planned babysitting itinerary. ] And then have some tummy time, and a bottle, and a nap. Doesn't that sound fun, boys?

[He hums a little, pushing into the touch of her hands, reveling in the feeling of her fingers scrabbling against his scalp. Derek is a big fan of having his hair played with, which goes against however long it must take to get it to look so artfully mussed, but whatever. Besides, Lydia knows how to rake it all back into place.]

That sounds like a great time, [he replies for them both, grinning down at Scott when he babbles at them both, drooling onto Derek's shirt.]

[ The remote to her television is on the couch and she has to crane at an uncomfortable angle to reach behind her and grab it without dislodging them. Yogabbagabba and Thomas And Friends are TiVo'ed right beside The History Channel: National Geographic and America's Got Talent, and she selects the most recent one and hits play.

Honestly, the voice actors for most children's show bother her, and Thomas is no exception. But she kind of likes Percy the Small Engine and watches anyway. Halfway through the episode, she steals Scott and Derek loses lap privileges because she needs to be criss cross apple sauce so the baby can sit in the cradle of her legs. Halfway through the second episode, Jr.'s chewing on his fist and fussing, so Lydia prods Derek and tells him to go make a bottle. ]

And use the open formula, too.

[For the record, Derek can't stand children's programming either, but he'll put up with it for Scott Jr and Lydia. He'd much rather they were watching National Geographic.

Giving up his prized spot in her lap elicits quite a bit of grumbling, though, as does relinquishing the hold on his nephew so she can take over. Never mind that it's Lydia who's supposed to be babysitting in the first place. Shh. He consoles himself with scooting back over the floor until he can lean against the couch instead, stroking his fingers over her thigh because it's right there and he can rest his hand on it.]

Has anyone ever said you're really demanding? [he asks as he levers himself to his feet, smirking to himself as he pulls out his favorite way to needle her.] Because you are.

[He's gone for a few minutes, but eventually returns with a full bottle of formula and two bottles of beer. He holds the formula out to Scott.] Here you go, little man. It's time for our bottles.

Demanding, successful... [ She muses lightly, rolling both words over her tongue; tasting them and finding them incredibly similar. Lydia schools her features into soft surprise, arching her eyebrows as if to say oh, look at the direct correlation before jutting her chin toward the kitchen to hurry him up.

While he's gone, Percy gets bullied by some of the bigger engines and stands up for himself. What a brave little train; maybe she should look around for a Percy themed coloring book and then color it mostly herself because Scott's too little to use crayons and couldn't draw inside the lines anyway. Maybe she'd buy herself a coloring book and him a stuffed animal, or one of those plastic boxes with the different sized holes in the sides and smaller plastic blocks shaped to fit in those holes.

She's just consulting her cell phone for her next free day that she could drag Allison along for some toy shopping when he returns and — giving him the saltiest look she can muster. ]

You're not supposed to drink while babysitting; there's a reason Scott and Allison didn't leave him with a set of irresponsible teenagers.

[He just rolls his eyes at her as he disappears into the kitchen. They've had this argument before.

The grin on his face when she starts chastising him is completely, one hundred percent unrepentant, and he just shrugs, spreading his hands.] Well, I guess it's a good thing you're here, isn't it? To be the responsible one while I use weak drugstore beer to get plastered and go piss off the balcony or something.

That's just not fair, [ she rebukes, glaring over Scott's head between his can and face. She snatches the bottle of formula and uses it to gesture for a moment as she continues to lecture him. ] I don't want to be responsible while you get to drink.

[ Lydia gives a ready scoff and tosses her head, grumbling, ] Seriously. Are you going to do this around your own kids? [ While testing the bottle on her wrist and shifting Scott into a reclined position along her forearm. For a moment she's distracted by teasing the baby's mouth with the rubber nipple, but once he hungrily latches on, she sees fit to add; ]

If you pee off my balcony, I'll kick you out.

[He reaches down and picks up the other beer, wiggling it at her as he drinks from his.] I brought two out for a reason, babe...

[He shrugs, reaching out to brush his knuckles across the fuzz on Scott's head. Baby hair is so ridiculously soft, he can't get over it. Last time he'd been around babies, he must have been nine or ten, it seems the memories have dulled with age. Or maybe it's because Scott Jr is a member of his pack that makes him so wondrous, he's not sure.] Yeah, probably. Beer doesn't hit me, you know that. C'mon, Lyds, lighten up. You're too pretty to frown like that.

[ If looks could wither skin and crumple cans, both beers would be the size of quarters and he'd be a mummy. But she is pretty, and doesn't want to get wrinkles prematurely, so the frown gives way to aloofness. ] It's the principle of things, [ she informs him snootily. ] You just don't drink around infants.

[ So she won't; brush off the offered beer and probably grouse at him a few more times over the course of the evening. But Scott is gurgling happily, nursing greedily, and she likes to look at his face because his cheeks get rosy and his eyes just rove, like he thinks most actively when he's eating and just wants to take the whole world in. She doesn't need to be a werewolf to be pack, but still wouldn't need to be pack to love this kid. She likes to think it's because he's from her best friend, but can't deny that the presence of babies does something to her hormones, Scottie Dog specifically.

When the formula is gone, Scott continues to suck enthusiastically and Lydia pulls the bottle from his mouth with a light pop. Getting to her feet and fetching a spit up rag from the diaper bag, Lydia commences to burp the baby over her shoulder. And when he lets out a sonorous belch, she praises him openly. Tummy time had been next on the agenda, but she thinks he might still spit up if one his front, which means... ]

I'm going to put him down. You can change the channel if you want. [ Because Thomas The Tank Engine and Budweiser don't go together. ]

I don't think Scottie Dog really minds, [Derek points out, shifting slightly so he can drape his arm over her shoulders and kiss her temple.

Derek is rather tactile at the best of times — he blames the wolf in him, needing to scent pack and touch and make sure everyone is okay — but never more so than when he's around Scott. Or rather, than when Lydia's around Scott. Because even though the baby isn't hers, every time she cuddles him, or kisses him, or feeds him his bottle, she starts to smell like pack and cub and mate, and it makes Derek need to touch her, to be close, so he can smell. Like right now, when he rests his chin on her shoulder so he can stare down at Scott nursing away in her arms, periodically turning his head to nuzzle in behind her ear and breathe her in. He likes moments like this, where it's quiet and peaceful, and he can just let himself wallow.

Which is, of course, when Lydia climbs to her feet and he's forced to let go of her, ending up sitting back against the couch and watching her bounce Scott around the room until he burps, at which point they head off to bed.]

'Kay. [He waits until they're out of the room and Lydia has taken Scott off to the makeshift crib in her bedroom to change the channel, idly surfing without really knowing what he wants to watch after all. Lydia will probably change it no matter what he decides anyway, so there's no point in getting too attached to something.]

[ Lydia has a strict plan: no kids until she's awarded a fields medal, or some other honor for mathematics. Married and owning a home are subclauses, but she's got a progressive mindset and sees no reason either of those things have to be deciding factors. But still, she had goals, plans, and a pretty strick policy when it came to her birth control regimen.

Which makes it completely unhelpful when there's a baby around to chip at her resolve — nay, shatter it, at least in Scott's case. The little mesh playpen that doubles as a crib has been permanently erected in the corner of her bedroom since the babyshower she hosted in her living room, and she's gotten so used to it that she almost doesn't notice it anymore, except for when she's bending to lay him on his back. Lydia lingers, fussing with his onesie and nightlight until they're both sitting and set just right. She tells him she loves him, then wrinkles her nose and announces how ridiculous it is and that she just can't help it anyway.

Slipping out of the bedroom and leaving the door open ajar just in case the best behaved baby she has ever known starts to fuss. He has a habit of waking up and just cooing or waiting quietly for her to get him, and she loves it. Just like she loves her couch, which is where Lydia reclines when she rejoins him in the living room. When she confiscates the remote, it's to flip to the History Channel before resuming toying with Derek's hair. ]

He's like a literal puppydog. Ms. McCall probably has flashbacks whenever she babysits him.

[Derek knows all about Lydia's Big Plans for her life. And he supports her one hundred percent. It's important that she succeed in life, and she's too damn smart not to. He gets that. He wants her to be happy, doing what she loves, so if she needs to move across the country to go to school or something, or get even more degrees, he'll support her there too.

But Derek has plans too, and those plans include a litter of cubs, little dark-haired babies getting underfoot and causing mayhem wherever they go, puppy piles in front of the television at night as everyone gets comfortable on and around their father. His childhood was a happy one, even if it ended tragically, and he wants to recreate that with his own kids. He's happy to wait until the time is right, but like Lydia, Scott Jr here is making it hard for him to remember that he's fine with waiting.

The only good thing about waiting for a while is that by the time he gets around to having cubs of his own, Scott Jr will be old enough to babysit them. It's no good having a human babysit werewolf kids, they don't know enough not to let the change come over them when upset. It's hard to explain a seven year old crying around fangs, surrounded by the fluff of a shredded cushion to a terrified teenager who has no idea what just happened.

He listens in shamelessly when Lydia tucks the baby into his crib, something warm sitting in his chest. That warmth only increases when she comes to join him, stealing the remote like he knew she would, settling down on the couch and pushing her fingers through his hair again. He sighs happily, letting his head loll back against the cushion near her hip.]

What, you actually let her babysit?

Only on Wednesdays, [ Lydia explains, tugging the shorter hairs at the back of his neck. ] I'm not his mom, so I don't get final say, and Allison is pretty big on grandparents being in the picture.

[ So Grandma position goes to Melissa. Allison is actually pretty sensitive on the topic, too; her mother is dead and she hasn't quiet gotten over the guilt of being distantly involved. Chris Argent gets the honorable title of Grandpa, which Scott Sr. is actually pretty sensitive about, too, from what Stiles tells him, because Mr. McCall doesn't even know he has a grandson and probably won't for a long, long time. The happy parents are rather big on family time in general, but Lydia's considered family and wheedles enough that she gets a couple hours a week all to herself. Mr. Argent and Ms. McCall got antsy about having the baby around the full moon anyway, which loops back to the scared teenager theory, only with some biased on Grandpa's part and a bit of PTSD on Grandma's part considering how she found out about the whole werewolf thing.

But Lydia's immune. That hadn't come into play yet, because Scottie was literally the sweetest baby ever and wasn't an alpha or anything influential like that, but it had been included in her line of reasoning as to why Scott and Allison should take the evening to themselves and go out.

And Lydia also had Derek at her (every) beck and call, be it werewolf based or diaper themed. ]

They might let you babysit by yourself, too, you know. If you asked. [ There's a praising, you're good at this heavily implied here. ] You could take him to the zoo and frighten all the zebras.

I guess that makes sense. [He tilts his head slightly to make it easier for her — no matter how much teasing he gets about practically rolling over and showing her his belly every time she touches his hair, he still thinks it's awesome and is quite happy to encourage petting as much as possible. It's not his fault it just feels good, okay.

He hums a little, considering.] Is he still too young for those baby-sling things like Zach Galifianakis wore in The Hangover? Because those look like fun. [They have the added benefit of leaving both hands free, either to tickle little baby feet or to do other things like hold food or deal with money or just generally be hands and do hand-type things.

Turning his head, he looks up at her, smiling in the blue light from the television, reaching up to brush his fingers along the length of her arm.] You want kids, right babe? How many?

No soft structured carriers if they face out. Facing out can arch the babies back and makes the baby dangle from the pubic bone. The frog-leg position of the other carriers is beneficial to the hip development. [ It's not like she read a bunch of What To Expect If You're Expecting-esque books during Allison's pregnancy, what, no. ] So you could use a Ring Sling or Mei Tai carrier. Allison and Scott have a Mei Tai.

[ She'd been with them when they'd picked it out. There's a part of Lydia that is convinced that, without her, this baby would be doomed. Hence she'll be the best god mom ever, and protect his delicate spinal chord and pubic bones from mommy, daddy, and Uncle Derek.

Uncle Derek who is touching her, leaving goose bumps in the wake of his fingertips, and talking about considerably more commitment than just god motherhood and uncle-ship. ]

Eventually, [ Lydia huffs, stressing that she might — might — want kids, and only in the future. The far off future. And while Lydia has her future mapped out, sometimes she gets a little evasive discussing it. ] I come from a two child family, so most psychological journals imply I'll either want no kids, exactly two, or more.

[He stares at her in silence for a second before laughing, shaking his head fondly as he chuckles.] Oh Lydia. [Of course she would be a walking wikipedia of baby slings, he should know better than to be surprised. It's so her. And yet here he is, once again faced with her fierce brain, sucking in knowledge like a plan starved of water. He knew she went equipment shopping with Scott and Allison before the baby was due, he's seen the playpen/crib in her bedroom, but he didn't figure she was the resident expert. Though, knowing those two, someone has to be.] What the hell is a Mei Tai anyway? Sounds like a drink with an umbrella in it.

[Okay, now he's just being stupid on purpose. Whatever.

He lifts his eyebrows at her, continuing to rub his knuckles along the line of her tricep.] None, two, or more kind of leaves a huge field open there, Lydia. And screw what psychological journals think, I want to know what you think.

Don't laugh at me, [ she scolds and pulls her hand away from his head in punishment. This serves so she can reach between the cushions and rescue her cell phone with the intent of searching Mei Tai baby carriers to show him, because the difference between a soft structured sling and a Mei Tai was very hard to explain and — wow, she's really wasn't helping the whole don't laugh at me, I'm not ridiculous case, even with her internal monologue.

But he's prying, and she's making a bit of a face because this is a bit close to a should we start trying? when's your ovulation cycle? conversation. It's also forcing her to think about something she's put off thinking about for a long time, and she isn't sure it's an internal conversation she wants to have just yet.

Lydia makes a face. ] I don't know, [ she preface, nose wrinkled and not meeting his gaze. ] Maybe three...

me, me!!! i shall!

<3

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