|My Baby, You
Author: M.L. Widmann PM
Francine is born, and throughout the moment of sheer happiness, neither one wants to think about what could possibly happen... That's a terrible summary, it's just a cute moment between the coupleRated: Fiction K+ - English - Family - Words: 950 - Favs: 1 - Published: 12-06-10 - Status: Complete - id: 6535571
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this fic... you know the drill.
Author's Note: The title is based off a song on Jeff Madden's CD with the same name. His CD, Taking the Wheel is quite amazing, so if you're into the Frankie voice, definitely get a copy on iTunes or something. As you can imagine, since it's based off a song Madden did, I was thinking of him as Frankie.
My Baby, You
"Francis Castellucio, I am going to kill you!"
After having had two girls before, Frankie was a little confused as to why his wife was shouting at him. Likewise, he knew how Mary was, and screaming was not just a trait limited to the process of childbirth.
He subconsciously got on the defensive. "Shut it, Mary; she's almost here!"
Apparently, his excited tone didn't reach her. "Don't tell me to shut it!" she hollered back, squeezing his hand until he thought it would burst. "You try pushing a watermelon out your ass, see how you like it!"
"This doesn't get any easier, you know!"
"I know, Mary, I'm..."
"Here she is!" The doctor's soft voice cut through theirs and stopped the fight in an instant. As if it were magic, a baby's gentle coo wafted through the air around them and the doctor was suddenly holding her.
Frankie could tell the tears falling from his wife's eyes were no longer out of anger, but pure joy. "Here she is," she cried, looking at her daughter.
"Do you have a name?" The doctor asked Mary and Frankie; they both looked at each other hesitantly.
"Are we going to go with your idea, then?" The argument they'd shared earlier was seemingly unimportant as compared to the amazing moment they shared at present. Frankie's voice fell when he asked the question.
Mary smiled and shook her head softly. "Your name – it's really pretty."
"Yeah?" He could hardly contain himself; Frankie was beaming ear to ear. "Are you sure?"
She nodded, taking a piece of his dark hair and gently pushing it out of his face. Then she looked at the doctor. "It's Francine."
The baby had been cleaned off and for the first time, Mary held her newborn child. "She's beautiful," Frankie said.
"She looks like you."
"Nah, she's got your eyes, Mary – look..."
"No look, that's definitely your nose."
"Did we miss anything?" The voice coming from the door was familiar and loud enough to divert the couple's attention. "Don't tell me we missed it!"
"Bobby!" The new father sprung from his seat on his wife's bed and embraced his best friend. "You're just in time; what do you..."
But Frankie was interrupted by another voice, a voice that caused his enthusiasm to marginally drop. "Where's the baby?"
"Hey Tommy," both Frankie and Bob mumbled under their breath as Tommy strutted into the room.
Bob ignored him, unable to take his eyes off Mary and the delicate girl in her arms. "Mary, Frankie, my God... she's beautiful!" His exclamation barely reached above a whisper with his calm tone.
Mary offered her out to him, but he drew back. Frankie nodded and put his hands on his wife's shoulders from beside her. "Come on, Bobby; you have to meet your goddaughter."
"If you want, that is..."
Bob was already clutching the little girl in his arms when he looked up at Frankie in shock. He didn't give an answer, as though his was already obvious. "What's her name?"
"I can't stop looking at her," Bob admitted with a laugh. "She's stunning."
"Yeah, yeah," Tommy interjected. Frankie had almost forgotten he was there, too. "She's gorgeous; Bob are we going to grab a bite? You said on the way here..."
"Right. I'll come back a bit later... Frankie, Mary, see you in a bit, then." They understood Tommy was hard to be around. Frankie knew more than anyone he was just trying to deal with not being the centre of attention today, but he didn't care. Today was his day – his, Mary's and Francine's.
Frankie sat down next to Mary and recoiled a little when he saw she was holding Francine and crying; not just a gentle tear, she was full-out sobbing. "Mary? Mary, are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she choked out, beaming the whole time. "She looks so much like you; I can't believe it."
"Oh stop it," Frankie laughed and put his hand tenderly on Francine, which easily covered the whole surface of her head.
"She looks like she's going to be a trouble-maker."
"So she's gonna take after you, then!"
"Oh, shut up, Francis Castellucio."
Just saying his name brought him back to their first date together. When he introduced himself as Francis Castellucio, it was like the singing wasn't important, his stage persona wasn't important, all that was important was that he pull every wall down and let her in to the real him.
This moment was the same: he didn't want his daughter to be warped by the world that his career brought with it – not another one.
Frankie and Mary chuckled as they sat on the hospital bed together, each with both hands on their newborn child, elated at the sheer thought that she was all theirs. The moment was too perfect that neither wanted to interrupt the other with their hoping that this time, with this daughter, things would be different.