#wherein james and rose begin preparing for the holidays

[lastbluetardis]

And Baby Makes Four (2/7)

And here we are! The next installment of my Perfectly Matched series! Thanks a million to the fantastic @chocolatequeennk for beta-ing this for me and being an excellent sounding board as I wrote this story.

Ten x Rose, Soulmates AU

This Chapter: ~7300 words, teen

The love Rose and James share expands to include one more as they add another baby to their family.

AO3 | TSP | FF.net | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Epilogue

James and Rose jumped head-first into researching the perfect midwife to be part of the birth of their second daughter. Shortly after Ainsley’s birthday, they scheduled a visit to the birthing center James had found, which was more luxurious than they were expecting. There were private suites where the birth and recovery could take place, and if Rose hadn’t had her heart set on having a home birth, James wouldn’t have minded renting one of the suites for the birth.

They set up an appointment with each of the midwives on staff to get a feel for the one that would be the best fit for them. The screening of the midwives took up the rest of November, and after weeks of interviews and discussing it between themselves, Rose and James finally decided on Elizabeth Sanger, a young woman with five years of experience and a very open, laissez-faire attitude towards birth.

“Everything will be led by Rose,” Elizabeth had said during her interview with them. “Humans have been giving birth for thousands of years, and a woman’s body has perfected the art of it. I’m here to help Rose listen to what her body is telling her, to coach her through it, and to make sure that on March twenty-fifth—or whatever date your little girl decides to arrive on—that you get to hold a healthy baby in your arms.”

James and Rose both appreciated her birthing philosophy, and that the midwife would take her cues from them.

“Your profile says you have an older child?” Elizabeth had asked. “I’m curious as to your plans for her during the birth. Will she be in your home, or—?”

“No,” Rose and James said immediately. That had been the first thing they had agreed upon after deciding on the home birth: neither of them wanted Ainsley to witness her mother going through the agony of labor. “No, she’ll be staying with one of our parents.”

“A good idea,” Elizabeth said, nodding. “I often advise parents against letting their young children witness the birth. While beautiful, it is quite a traumatic process, and some children don’t react well to it.”

With the midwife decided on, all that was left was to formally transfer the records of Rose’s prenatal visits to the birthing center. Being an affiliate with the hospital that Rose had been going to for prenatal care, it was a relatively simple matter. Both James and Rose were relieved to finally have that process finished by the first week of December so they wouldn’t need to be worrying about midwives and birth plans while trying to prepare for the upcoming holidays.

They came home with a Christmas tree the first weekend in December, and while it wasn’t the fullest or prettiest of trees, they loved it because Ainsley picked it out herself.

“Notice how she picked the tallest tree there was,” James grunted as he attempted to heft the Douglas fir into the stand.

“Yep, I did notice that,” Rose said, chewing her thumb cuticle to hide a grin. “Need help?”

“Nope, I’ve got it,” James panted, but then he squeaked and cursed just moments before the tree swayed towards Rose.

“Gotcha!” Rose reached out and caught the falling tree, and spluttered as needles rained down on her.

“Rose! Are you all right?” James’s hand reached out for her as his eyes peeked at her through the branches.

“I’m fine,” she soothed. “Well, a few needles fell down my bra and are getting kind of itchy. Now would you care for a bit of help?”

Together they managed to get the tree in the stand and turned it so that the thickest part of the tree was on display to the rest of the living room.

“Not too bad!” James said delightedly when they got all the lights strung on the tree. “We can do the ornaments tomorrow so Ainsley can help.” He then turned towards her with an impish grin and a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Now… about the pine needles that fell down someone’s bra?”

Rose shrieked out a laugh when he pressed himself up against her and stuck his hand down the front of her shirt.

They decorated the tree the following morning. The Christmas ornaments Ainsley had made in daycare were proudly hanging on the front of the tree, while the regular ornaments were scattered around the rest of the branches in no particular style. It was obvious the tree was decorated primarily by a toddler, but to James and Rose, it was the loveliest tree in all of England.

“Oh, look what I found,” Rose said as she sifted through boxes in their basement, looking for the rest of their Christmas decorations.

James set down the box he had in his arms and walked up to Rose. A box filled with baby clothes was in front of her, and right on top was a journal he knew contained all of the baby names he and Rose had come up with during their first pregnancy.

“Oh, fantastic!” James crowed. He stepped up behind her and reached around to flip through the journal. “I’d wondered where this had gone! We can use this to start looking at names for the baby. I doubt our tastes have changed that much regarding names, so our favorites should still be here.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” Rose said. She then rummaged through the box of clothes. “God, I can hardly believe Ainsley used to be this small!”

James hummed in agreement when he happened upon one of her newborn onesies.

“Though I suppose it isn’t that unbelievable,” he mused, rubbing his fingers across the soft fabric. “After all, she lived inside you and the hole she came out of isn’t exactly big. Although! If you think about it, she used to exist as two, tiny, separate cells in each of us! That’s the smallest she’s ever been.”

James beamed proudly at her, and Rose rolled her eyes. Nutter.

“Let’s bring this box up, too,” Rose said. “We can sort through the clothes and see what sort of shape they’re in.”

She bent to pick it up, but was stopped by James’s hands on her shoulders.

“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, picking up the box and setting it on the Christmas decorations they were going to bring upstairs. “No heavy lifting.”

“It’s not heavy,” Rose protested, but James already lifted a stack of boxes piled three-high and dashed up the steps.

Shaking her head, Rose followed after him and wondered whether he would let her do anything between now and the time their daughter was born.

Rose opened one of the boxes James had carried up, and grinned when she saw her favorite decoration right on top. It was a series of picture frames that contained the Christmas photos she and James had gotten done over the years.

She carefully tugged them all out, and she walked into the living room to temporarily replace the current photos hanging on the walls with the more festive ones. As she hung each photo, she watched the transformation of herself and James over the years: they’d come a long way since their first Christmas together, and she wouldn’t trade a single moment of their time together.

Finally, she reached the series of photos she loved best. She proudly hung the Christmas photo from three years ago in place of the photo of James and Ainsley pulling a silly face at the camera. In this photo, she had a newborn Ainsley in her arms, and James had his arms wrapped around her middle, resting just beneath where she was cradling their baby.

Ainsley really had been a tiny baby; she only spanned the length of Rose’s forearm in the photograph. Rose sometimes missed those days. It had felt so wonderful to cradle an infant to her breast. While Ainsley still loved cuddling, especially close to bedtime or if they were all watching a film together, she grew bored and restless after a few minutes of it.

In the following year’s photo, James was holding Ainsley. It had taken ages to get the photos done, Rose remembered, because Ainsley had been in an odd mood. She hadn’t been able to decide if she wanted to be in James’s arms, or in Rose’s, or if she wanted to be set on the ground to practice her walking. But they’d finally managed to get Ainsley to be still enough, and even smile, for the photos to be taken.

The following year, Ainsley decided she wanted to stand on her own, like Mummy and Daddy. She was standing on one of the photo props—a large box wrapped as a gift—while James and Rose stood behind her, arms wrapped around each other and a hand on Ainsley’s shoulder.

“You should probably go get changed, love.”

James appeared in the living room in black trousers and a blue button-down oxford with a red tie that had white snowflakes printed across it. Ainsley trailed behind him, a fistful of golden fabric in her hands as she played with the skirt of her dress and swished it around.

Rose nodded and stepped down from the stool she’d been on to hang their Christmas photos. An empty frame hung at the end of the photo series, but it would soon be filled with the photo they were about to go take.

She rubbed her six-month baby bump, excited that at this time next year, their Christmas photo would contain four people in them.

Throughout the coming weeks, James and Rose—and Ainsley, when she was in the mood to help—transformed their house to suit the coming holidays. The house grew more and more festive as they unboxed more of their decorations, and as Ainsley came home with Christmas crafts done at daycare.

But Christmastime also brought with it a hectic workload for Rose. She and James weren’t the only families to do Christmas photos, and she was often booked every day for couples and families getting Christmas photos done.

She tried to still get home by suppertime, but there were a few days when she would have to stay late to coincide with the times her customers were available.

That left James to care for Ainsley by himself. While he usually loved the one-on-one time with his daughter, there were certain nights where it was frustrating either because he had other things he needed to be doing, or because Ainsley was in a bad mood because she wanted her mum.

“I want Mummy!” Ainsley whined at him one night as he tried to wrestle her into her chair for dinner.

“I know you do,” James said patiently. “So do I, but she won’t be home for another hour or two, so you’re stuck with Daddy tonight.”

Ainsley pouted for a minute, but then said, “M’hungry, Daddy.”

“Yep, me too,” he said, taking her dinner out of the microwave. “Daddy’s got you some yummy hotdogs and macaroni and cheese!”

“Yummy!” Ainsley said with a grin.

After checking her food to make sure it wouldn’t be too hot, he set it onto her tray along with her fork and a cup of milk, and he squirted a blob of ketchup onto the corner of the plate.

“No!” Ainsley squawked, pushing her plate away from her.

James furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong, darling? It’s yummy hotdogs and mac and cheese. You love hotdogs and mac and cheese.”

“No!” she shouted pushing her plate further away from her so James had to quickly reach out and take it away before it toppled onto the floor. “Daddy, m’hungry!”

“I know,” he said, feeling at a loss. “I have your dinner right here, Ainsley.”

He tried to set it in front of her again. She glanced down at it and said “Ketchup!”

“Your ketchup is right here, darling,” he said, dipping a chunk of hotdog into it. “See, right here.”

“No, no, no!” she screamed, throwing her fork across the room.

“Ainsley Grace,” he said sternly, feeling his patience waning. “You know better than to throw things.”

“Not happy!” she wailed, slamming her hands into her plate. Bits of food jumped into the air, and ketchup splattered all over her and across the kitchen in little droplets. “Want Mummy!”

“Ainsley, enough!” he gritted out. “Stop it right now.”

“No! Not happy!” She slammed her hands into her plate again then shoved her cup of milk onto the floor, sending milk flying everywhere. “Want Mummy food!”

“Okay, time-out time,” James said shortly.

He took her plate away from her, ignoring her screams that she was hungry, and he unhooked her tray from her chair. He grabbed a towel and wiped off her hands to try and contain the mess she was making, and he picked her up and carried her to the time-out chair they kept in the laundry room.

“No, no, no!” she cried.

“Yes,” he said, setting her down on the chair. “Three minutes. Sit here for quietly for three minutes. Daddy will tell you when you can get up. I’m very angry with you, Ainsley.”

Ainsley whimpered pitifully and rubbed her hands into her eyes, but she stayed seated. He stood up and set a timer on his watch, then walked back to the kitchen. He sighed when he saw the mess Ainsley had made: little bits of hotdog and macaroni and cheese were on the floor surrounded in a puddle of milk that was dripping from her cup, and droplets of ketchup and milk were sprayed across the table and walls.

He grabbed a roll of paper towel and began sopping up the mess.

“Daddy, done?” Ainsley asked from the next room over.

“Not yet,” he answered, chucking the soiled paper towels in the trash. “Sit quietly, Ainsley.”

She was quiet for another minute before she asked again, “Now done? Please?”

James glanced at his watch. “Nope, one more minute. Remember, sit quietly.”

When the kitchen was more or less clean again and there were ten seconds left to Ainsley’s time-out, he walked back to the laundry room. Ainsley was sitting on the chair with tears streaking down her cheeks.

“Okay, your three minutes are up,” James said, kneeling down in front of her. “Do you know why you were put on time-out, darling?”

“Didn’t listen,” she said softly, scrubbing her arm across her nose.

“That’s right,” he said. “You were throwing things and making a mess even though I told you to stop. We don’t do that, do we?”

“No.”

“Are you gonna listen to Daddy now?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“All right, then,” he whispered, opening his arms. “Come here.”

She flew into his arms and sniffled into his shoulder as he rubbed her back. “M’hungry, Daddy.”

“I know you are,” he said. “What was wrong with your food, darling?”

“Not happy,” she whimpered.

“I know you’re not happy,” James said, feeling frustrated that he couldn’t understand what Ainsley was trying to tell him. “Why aren’t you happy?”

“Not happy,” she said more insistently.

James sighed, and he pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “Shall we try supper time again?”

“Yeah,” she said, leaning her head against his shoulder. “M’hungry, Daddy. Want Mummy. Mummy’s happy.”

James walked back into the kitchen, and he kept her on his hip as he tried to figure out what she wanted to eat.

“Do you want your hotdog and mac and cheese?” he asked, pointing to her discarded plate.

“Not happy,” she said.

“All right, then what do you want?” James asked. “We’ve got some leftover meatloaf? Or I could cook you up something else? There are some chips and a pizza in the freezer?”

After about ten minutes of rejecting all of his dinner ideas, Ainsley finally decided on pancakes. James whipped up the batter and cooked them both some pancakes and eggs, and he was so relieved when she ate them happily with no more tantrums.

Just as James lifted her out of her chair, they heard the front door open.

“Mummy!” Ainsley cried, wriggling to be put down. As soon as her feet touched the floor, she sprinted to greet Rose. “Mummy! Hi Mummy!”

“Hi, Ainsley,” Rose said. She set her keys in the dish by the door and hung her coat up on the rack before she leaned down and scooped Ainsley up for a hug. “How are you tonight, sweetheart? Did you and Daddy have fun together?”

“I wouldn’t call it fun,” James said lightly, stepping up to her to peck a kiss to his wife’s forehead.

“Oh dear,” Rose said with a frown. “What happened.”

“A certain someone was very picky about what she wanted for supper,” James said, poking his finger into Ainsley’s ribs. “Weren’t you, darling?”

“Not happy,” Ainsley said seriously. “Daddy’s not happy.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rose asked.

“Yeah,” Ainsley said. Then she glanced into the living room. “Wanna play, Mummy?”

“In a few minutes,” Rose answered, pressing a kiss to Ainsley’s hair. “Mummy needs to eat first, then I’ll play with you.”

She set her daughter down, and watched her dash into the living room to play with her toys while she walked into the kitchen to forage for her own dinner.

“So what happened?” Rose asked, picking up a cold pancake and taking a bite out of it.

“She didn’t want the hotdogs and macaroni and cheese I’d made for her,” James said. “She protested them by smashing her hands into them. Twice.”

Rose winced.

“I have no idea what was wrong,” James said, rubbing his fingers into his eyes. “She was excited for them until they were in front of her. She kept saying ‘not happy’ but wouldn’t tell me why, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure it out. They weren’t too hot or too cold. I gave her milk, I gave her ketchup. All I got was ‘not happy’.”

“Oh, hell,” Rose whispered. She had stepped up to the counter, where the remnants of Ainsley’s first plate of her dinner were sitting, waiting to be cleaned up. She saw the little handprint in the middle of her ketchup pile, and she realized what was wrong. “I’ve been putting her ketchup in a smiley face for her.”

James blinked. “You what?”

“Yeah, it was just for fun,” Rose said. “I’d arrange her hotdog pieces into a circle, then make the face with ketchup.”

“Bloody hell,” James groaned, scrubbing his hands across his face. “‘Not happy’. Her dinner wasn’t smiling at her.”

“I’m sorry,” Rose said. “I’ve only done it once or twice. I didn’t realize she wouldn’t touch it unless it made a happy face.”

“No, no. It’s okay,” James said wearily. “I’ll know for next time. I’ll save her dinner for tomorrow. Maybe she’ll eat it then if I put a bloody smiley face in her food.”

James put Ainsley’s untouched dinner in the fridge before he disappeared to the home office.

oOoOo

James sped down the motorway, just wanting to be home. Rose wasn’t the only one with a mad work schedule: with finals upon them, James found himself staying late at the university to help his students prepare for their upcoming exam.

After one such night, he’d ended up staying at the review session later than he wanted, and it still didn’t seem to have helped. It was as though his students hadn’t learned anything over the course of the semester, and James didn’t know if that meant a shortcoming on his part or if it was the fault of the students.

Groaning, he pulled into the driveway of his home, and wearily gathered his laptop bag and briefcase. The briefcase, however, wasn’t completely latched, and it sprang open, spilling out all of his notes and papers and the hundred or so copies of his final exams.

“Goddammit!” James growled, stooping down to pick the papers up out of the rain. They were soggy and damp and the ink was smudged, and James knew he would have to reprint everything.

He slammed the car door shut and walked up to the front door. He hugged everything tight to his chest as he freed up a few fingers to swing open the door, but it was locked.

“Come on,” he groaned, his hands full of wet papers and his bags.

He hit the doorbell with his elbow, and it was nearly a full minute before Rose answered.

“Glad you took your time,” he growled, pushing past her. “S’not like it’s bloody freezing out here.”

She looked taken aback, but James didn’t notice, because he stalked to the home office to drop off his work stuff.

He inhaled deeply, trying to clear out his bad mood. It wasn’t Rose’s fault that his students were incompetent with physics, and it wasn’t her fault that they’d waited until four days before their final exam to seek out extra help.

But his temper still felt barely contained. He turned and walked back to the living room to apologize to Rose and hopefully get back into her good graces enough to have a cuddle with her and Ainsley.

“Rose, love, look, I’m sorry I…” He emerged into the living room, and froze when he saw the utter chaos. Toys and books were strewn all over the floor, as were bits of food and crumbs. Ainsley’s juice cup was on its side on the coffee table on top of a sticky puddle of whatever was in the cup. Take-away boxes of food were on the sofa, as was Rose’s drawing tablet.

“What the hell?” he asked, his temper spiking.

“James…”

“No, what the actual hell, Rose?” he demanded. “It didn’t occur to you to maybe clean up a bit instead of playing around on your tablet? Of course it didn’t, because you haven’t done any of the cleaning these past few months.”

He gestured to her swollen belly, and ignored the sparks flaring in her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Excuse me?” she asked incredulously.

“Figure you’d just leave it for me when I got home, eh?” He angrily picked up the empty Chinese take-away boxes, barely noticing that they still felt warm. “No need to pick up after yourself when you’ve got a nice little husband to do it for you?”

“James, enough!” Rose snapped. “Whatever pissy mood you’re in, get rid of it right now.”

“You would be yelling at me if I’d left the house in this state for when you got home,” James said bitterly, his temples throbbing with frustration and anger. “But then you’d cry and say you’re sorry and blame the hormones. And I’d forgive it, like always.”

“Well, then what’s your excuse for going off on me?” Rose demanded, following him into the kitchen, holding Ainsley’s sticky cup.

“Long day at work,” he grumbled, chucking the Chinese boxes in the trash.

“I had to work today, too,” Rose said coolly.

“Yeah, coloring,” James scoffed.

As soon as the words were out, he wished he could take them back.

Rose sucked in a sharp breath, and James’s stomach coiled uncomfortably when he saw her tears.

“You absolute arsehole,” she said quietly, glaring at him through her tears. “I don’t suppose you want to hear about my fucking awful day, do you? Did you even notice that Ainsley isn’t running around? She’s sleeping in our bed, and it’s a full hour before her bedtime. D’you want to know why? She caught some sort of stomach bug at the daycare. I had to leave work early and pick her up. I’ve been puked on twice today. She threw a tantrum when she threw up all over her toys, and then she decided throwing vomit-covered toys across the living room was a brilliant idea!”

Shame and guilt welled up in James.

“Rose, I—”

“No, I’m not finished!” Rose said hotly. “You don’t get sole ownership of having a shitty day, James. And I didn’t leave this mess for you to clean up, by the way. Ainsley went to sleep about forty-five minutes ago. I was so bloody exhausted from trying to take care of her and clean up the immediate mess she’d made, and I was starving so I ordered myself Chinese before I cleaned up the rest of the mess in the living room. I just finished eating when you got home and started storming around the place and yelling at me!”

“Rose, I—”

“And where the hell do you get off on belittling what I do for a living?” Rose demanded, her voice cracking as the first tear fell. “You’ve been the one person I could always count on for support about my art. And now you’re calling it ‘coloring’? Is that what you really think of it?”

“No, Rose, of course not,” James said urgently.

“How am I supposed to believe that?” She drew in a deep breath, then wiped at her eyes. “You can piss off tonight, James. I’m going to bed. I ordered Chinese for you, too, if you want it. I put it in the microwave.”

“Rose, please,” he begged, feeling sick to his stomach. “I’m so sorry, love.”

“Yeah,” she said. “G’night, James.”

“Let me come in and see Ainsley? Please?” he said, stepping towards her as she left the kitchen.

“James, you don’t need permission to see our daughter,” Rose said. James followed her to their bedroom, and Rose gestured to the bed, where Ainsley was fast asleep, despite their raised voices. “Try not to wake her up.”

James nodded and walked up to his side of the bed, where Ainsley was curled up. She looked feverish and sweaty, and his heart broke for his little girl. And for Rose. God, he was such a twat.

He pressed his lips to Ainsley’s forehead, wincing at how hot she felt.

“Love you, darling,” he whispered. “Sorry you’re unwell.”

He stood and saw Rose pulling on her pajamas.

“I really am sorry, Rose,” he murmured.

“I know.” She sniffled and turned towards him. His heart shattered at the sight of tears streaming silently down her cheeks. He took a step towards her, but she shook her head and backed away. “Please just leave me alone tonight, James. I’m still angry with you, and I want to be left alone.”

James nodded morosely. “Right. I’ll be on the sofa. Come get me if you need me.”

James walked out of the bedroom, and pulled the door halfway shut behind him. He tugged at his hair as he walked back into the living room. The mess that greeted him made his guilt swell up inside him again, and he hated himself for everything he’d said.

He walked into the kitchen and filled the kettle for tea. As he waited for it to heat, he opened the microwave and saw two boxes of Chinese take-away waiting for him. He sighed and put them in the fridge for later.

When the kettle beeped, James made himself a cup of tea and meandered back into the living room, intent on making it up to Rose.

He pulled the bin of toys from the corner of the room and began clearing up, but when he found a few toys that were sticky and some that still had drops of vomit on them, he went to the kitchen and grabbed disinfectant wipes and returned.

For over an hour, he sat in the middle of the living room and meticulously cleaned all of Ainsley’s toys. He stood and saw Rose’s drawing tablet on the couch, and he realized it was her work tablet. His heart fell when he realized she had been trying to work from home as she cared for a sick toddler.

She could have called me, James thought defensively. I would’ve come home to help.

But as soon as he thought the words, he knew that Rose had tried to keep his focus on his students. She knew how much stress he was under as he worried that his students were ill-prepared for their final exam, and she had tried to give him uninterrupted time at the university to help his students.

“Fuck,” James grumbled, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He took Rose’s drawing pad and put it in the home office so it wouldn’t get broken or food spilled on it.

When the living room was relatively clean again, James grabbed extra sheets and pillows from the closet and made himself a makeshift bed on the couch, even though he knew he wouldn’t sleep well.

And he was right. James lay awake for hours on the sofa, and any sleep he managed was shallow and interrupted. He awoke at every little sound, wondering if it was Rose or Ainsley, and his dreams were all repeats of the stupid fight he’d picked with Rose. His mind’s eye continued showing him the utter heartbreak and betrayal on Rose’s face when he’d insulted her art. How would she ever forgive him for that?

At half-past four in the morning, he heard little feet pattering down the hall towards him.

“Daddy!”

“Hello, my darling,” James murmured, sitting up to open his arms for his daughter. He scooped her up and held her close, inhaling her scent as he tried to ignore what a rubbish husband and father he felt like. “How are you feeling, Ainsley? How’s your tummy?”

“Tummy hurts,” Ainsley said nuzzling her face into his neck. “Don’t feel good.”

“I know you don’t,” he said, pressing kisses to her forehead. “Why are you up so early? When you’re not feeling well, you should stay in bed and sleep.”

“Woke up,” Ainsley said. “Mummy’s puking.”

“Mummy’s what?” James asked, glancing down the hall.

“Mummy’s puking,” Ainsley repeated, sounding drowsy. “Puking like Ainsley.”

“Shit,” James whispered, then he cringed. “No, darling, you didn’t hear Daddy say that.”

“Shit,” Ainsley parroted with a sleepy grin. “Daddy said shit.”

“I know I did,” he said, standing. “Don’t say that word, Ainsley. It’s a bad word. Only adults can use that word, not little girls.”

James walked down the hallway and to their bedroom. Rose wasn’t in the bed.

He closed the door behind him, then walked forward and set Ainsley on the bed. He tucked the sheets around her.

“Go back to sleep, Ainsley,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead.

He grabbed the empty glass from Rose’s bedside stand and took it into the en suite to fill with water before he walked into the bathroom. Rose was kneeling on the floor with her forearms crossed across the toilet seat, and her head was pillowed against them.

“Hey,” he whispered, dropping to his knees. “You okay?”

“No,” she grunted, not even turning to look at him.

“Looks like you caught the bug Ainsley had,” James mused.

“Really? I didn’t notice,” she said flatly.

James winced.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

Rose sighed and admitted, “Help me to bed? I’m so dizzy.”

James nodded, and he crouched beside her to help her stand. He frowned when he saw how pale her face was and how shaky she looked. She was swaying on her feet and her hands were trembling as she gripped his forearms.

“I’m sorry you’re ill, Rose,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. “And I’m so sorry about before.”

“We can talk later,” Rose mumbled, leaning heavily against him as they shuffled to the bedroom. “I’m too tired right now.”

“Right, of course,” he said. “You get some rest. I’m going to stay in here to help you and Ainsley as needed, if that’s all right?”

Rose nodded as she crawled into bed beside Ainsley, who had drifted back to sleep.

James carefully scooched Ainsley closer to Rose and then crawled into bed beside her. Ainsley wiggled until she was sideways with her head on his chest and her feet pressed to Rose’s belly. James stroked her hair as he let his eyes close and tried to get more sleep.

He was awoken an hour or so later by frantic movements. He looked over and saw Rose with her hand clapped to her mouth as she struggled to stand. He vaulted out of bed, thankful that Ainsley wasn’t sleeping on him anymore, and he rushed to help Rose up.

“Come on, up we get,” he coaxed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

He heard her start to gag, and he tugged her into the en suite and settled her in front of the sink just in time. James rubbed her back, then pulled away when Rose stood up and rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

He sighed, hating that his family was so ill, and then turned on the faucet to wash down the sick.

That was how most of the day passed for James. He’d emailed his students and told them he wasn’t going to be in the office that day, but that he would hold another review session the following day.

Ainsley, thankfully, was feeling better by late morning. She still said her stomach hurt, but she wasn’t as feverish as she was the night before, and there weren’t any more vomiting spells.

When she was getting too restless to stay in bed, James pressed a parting kiss to Rose’s sweaty temple and took Ainsley out of the bedroom. He made her a bit of toast and oatmeal, and though she didn’t want to eat much, she swallowed down a few bites. James was more pleased that she was drinking, and he decided that fluids were more important than food.

He tried to keep Ainsley entertained as Rose rode out her own illness, but invariably, Ainsley wanted her mother.

“Mummy!” Ainsley cried, running again down the hall for Rose.

“No, darling, Mummy’s sleeping,” he said, having repeated that phrase seemingly a hundred times.

But then the bedroom door opened and Rose stepped out.

“Hi Mummy!” Ainsley said. She hugged her mum’s legs then sprinted off to the living room.

“I’m sorry,” James said with a grimace. “But hell hath no fury like a toddler who wants her mummy.”

Rose snorted. “Yeah. Or her daddy. She was crying for you all of yesterday. I swear, she always wants the parent who isn’t here.”

“Yep.” He glanced at her and saw how pale and exhausted she still looked. “You can go back to bed, love.”

“Nah, I’ll keep you guys company out here,” Rose said, waddling down the hall.

“Really, Rose, I’ve got it covered,” James said. “Ainsley’s about to go down for a nap anyways.”

Rose ignored him and walked to the kitchen for a glass of water, before she entered the living room and sat heavily on the sofa.

“You cleaned,” she noted, glancing around.

“Yeah,” he said guiltily, sitting beside her. “I figured that was part one of making it up to you.”

“That’s a good start,” Rose said, and James was relieved when he saw a hint of a smile cross her lips.

“I am so, so sorry,” James said, turning to face her head-on. “So sorry. You have no idea… I feel like the biggest fuckwit on the planet, Rose. I’m so sorry. There is no excuse for my behavior and what I said other than that I am an absolute arsehole. I should have realized that there was a reason for the state the house was in, and I definitely should have realized something was wrong when Ainsley didn’t come to greet me.

“And I do not think that your job is just coloring, Rose,” he said fiercely, willing her to believe him. “I’ve never thought that. That was awful of me to say and I didn’t mean it. Your art is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and I cherish each new piece you make for me and for our family.”

Rose picked at her cuticles as she whispered, “Your comment really hurt, James.”

His chest ached at how small her voice sounded, and not for the first time, he would give anything to be able to go back in time and stop himself from ever calling her art ‘coloring’.

“I know,” he whispered. He wanted to reach out and touch her and offer her more comfort than his paltry words could give, but he wasn’t sure if his touch would be welcome, so he instead clenched his hands into fists. “I know, and I’m so sorry. You are so wonderful and talented, and I am so, so sorry, Rose.”

“I know,” Rose murmured, covering his hand. “I forgive you.”

James breathed out a grateful sigh, feeling dizzy with relief.

“Just don’t take your bad mood out on me next time,” she said, leveling him with a hard look.

“I won’t,” he vowed. “I swear I won’t.”

She sighed.

“I feel like shit,” Rose mumbled, rubbing her fingers into her eyes. “Everything hurts.”

“I know,” James whispered sympathetically. “Oh. I, ehm, I may have taught Ainsley a new word.”

Rose glanced over at him, smirking.

“Oh?”

“I, ehm, I might’ve said ‘shit’ in front of her,” James admitted with a sheepish grin.

Rose laughed and said, “Oh, don’t worry, I taught her that one a few weeks ago. I’ve been surprised she hasn’t been using it. Most toddlers are delighted when they realize they’re using a bad word.”

“Well, she’s not most toddlers, is she?” James said proudly, looking at their daughter, who had made herself a nest of blankets on the floor and curled up for a nap.

“No, she isn’t,” Rose murmured, leaning against him. “Can I have a cuddle?”

“Oh, Rose.” James turned and enveloped her in his arms. “Of course you can. Always.”

Rose leaned into his embrace and rested her head in the crook of his neck. James buried his nose into her hair and pressed kisses to her head as he wrapped his arms around her. Though she’d asked for the hug, he was taking just as much comfort from it as she was. The knot that had been sitting heavily in his gut since the previous evening finally unclenched, leaving him feeling wrung out and wanting to hold Rose for the foreseeable future.

He rested his hand on her belly, and almost immediately, he felt their daughter moving beneath his palm.

“Everything feel okay with the baby?” James asked softly, rubbing her belly.

“Yep,” Rose murmured, sounding sleepy.

“D’you want to go back to bed?”

“No,” she said, but James didn’t believe her at all.

“Why don’t you just lay down,” he suggested, moving to the other end of the couch before urging her to rest her head in his lap. “You don’t have to sleep, just close your eyes and rest.”

“I know that trick,” Rose mumbled, shooting him a grin. “That won’t work on me like it does on Ainsley.”

James laughed and stroked her hair as Rose wiggled around until she found a reasonably comfortable position. As he ran his fingers through the silky strands of her hair, he heard her breathing even out before she started snoring softly.

His eyes began to droop in exhaustion. He’d slept about as well as Rose did. Content to join his family in a nap, he slowly reclined his seat back, but he’d barely closed his eyes before he felt a gentle tapping against his thigh.

He opened his eyes and saw Ainsley staring bleary-eyed at him.

“Sleep with you?” she asked, lifting her arms towards him. “Mummy’s napping.”

“Yeah, she is,” James whispered, carefully pulling Ainsley into his lap. “You should be napping, too.”

She didn’t say anything in response, but she wriggled around on his lap until she’d found a comfortable position. She’d tucked her body into the nearly non-existent space between his body and the armrest of the sofa, and she leaned her head back onto his chest.

“Comfy?” he asked, but she’d already fallen asleep.

oOoOo

“Ainsley, hold my jeans,” Rose said as she reached over to grab the cookies she’d brought.

A little hand grabbed onto her trousers, and once Rose had the plate of desserts in her hand, she reached down and took Ainsley’s hand and began walking through the car park.

“Where’s Daddy?” Ainsley asked, looking around as though James was hiding in the bushes.

“He’s inside,” Rose replied. “Let’s go say hi.”

“Let’s say hi,” Ainsley repeated, trotting beside Rose as they walked into the chemistry building.

They made a pitstop in the main office and said hello to the secretaries and professors who were milling around in the faculty lounge. Rose left a plate of cookies in the office for them before she and Ainsley made their way to the sixth floor and to the physics lab, where James was holding one last review session before his students’ final exam the following day.

“Daddy!” Ainsley shouted when they finally saw him.

Rose smiled when James wheeled around wildly and spotted them. A beaming grin crossed his face, and he beckoned them into the room.

“I hope we’re not interrupting,” Rose apologized, seeing the still-full classroom. “You said you’d be done by lunchtime.”

“Oh, not at all,” James said. “We were just wrapping up. Class, this is my lovely wife, Rose, and our daughter, Ainsley. Ooh, what have you got there?”

“Daddy! Daddy, hi!”

Ainsley pulled her hand away from Rose’s to sprint up to her father. James crouched and hauled her into his arms.

“Hello, my Ainsley!” he exclaimed, hugging her tight. “What are you and Mummy doing here?”

“Made cookies!” she said happily, glancing back at Rose.

“You made cookies?” James said as Rose set the treats at the front of the room.

“I figured you all could do with a bit of homemade sugar before your exam,” Rose said, addressing the class, who were already swarming towards the cookies.

Rose wandered over to where James was still chatting with Ainsley, who appeared to be recounting their baking adventures.

“Uh huh,” James said, nodding seriously. “I’ll bet you’re the best cookie maker ever.”

“Yeah,” Ainsley said, looking proud of herself. “Mummy helped.”

“I’m sure Mummy did,” James said. “Shall we sample a bit of the cookies you and Mummy made?”

“Oh, she’s already sampled plenty,” Rose said.

“Well…” James drawled, torn between Ainsley’s pouting face and Rose’s stern expression. “Surely she can steal a bite or two from Daddy’s?”

James snuck between his students to grab a cookie for himself and Rose. His students all turned to Ainsley and smiled and waved, but she buried her face in James’s shoulder and clung tighter to him.

“It’s all right, darling,” James soothed, walking back to where Rose was leaning up against a table.

“I thought we could go out to lunch?” Rose asked, taking the cookie he handed to her. “If you’re not busy.”

“Not at all busy,” James said, holding out his hand for hers. “I’ve always got time for lunch with my three favorite girls.”

The following evening, James came home laden down with the finished exams, and he shut himself in the home office to grade them. Rose let him be for the most part, except to call him to dinner and then to kiss Ainsley goodnight. Shortly before Rose was about to head to bed herself, he burst out of the office with a wide grin on his face.

“They passed!” He swept up to her and pressed a sloppy, enthusiastic kiss to her lips. “Rose, they all passed! Every single one of them! Ha!”

Rose wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed little kisses to his neck, her heart bursting with happiness and relief for her husband. The last few weeks had been harder than they’d planned, but now James was free from work until the autumn semester began, and with that cheerful thought, Rose grew excited for the upcoming holiday and anniversary celebrations.