Helping Hand

Chapter 9

I do not own OUAT, any of it's cast or characters or plots. However, I am a faithful watcher and I am very interested to see how season 7 will go. This is just a prompt thing that I found online but then as I wrote it morphed into something rather different. Oops!

Helping Hand

3rd Person

Emma smiles softly across the table, sipping on her water from her glass slowly. Over the past week, she has been nothing but miserable and whining or yelling for no reason in particular or crying, none of which she enjoys. And this is all because she's late. Well, the baby is late, so therefore Emma is cranky.

The baby has been particularly annoying that day, kicking her in her sleep the night before so she couldn't find any position that was even somewhat comfortable, and when she finally did she had to pee, which was hardly an enjoyable experience to have to twist and turn and try to get out of bed whist simultaneously not waking up Killian, not falling over and not wetting herself.

So far she's rather surprised she hasn't lost bladder control yet considering the baby makes her need to pee every five minutes, and she's certain that Killian is now nervous she'll give birth on the toilet.

To be honest she wouldn't be surprised.

She's nine months and two weeks pregnant, meaning she is far, far overdue, and they've already called the doctor to talk about inducing labor. Although the doctor doesn't seem too keen on inducing labor due to the fact she lost her first baby, and she doesn't exactly want to make any stupid mistakes and neither does Killian, so they just have to bear with it.

Well she is, he's just getting the brunt of her anger.

In spite of her being a complete bitch to him, Killian had wanted to cheer her up and so he's taken her on a date, another date. They're first was perfect, romantic, and she wishes she could have jumped him but the baby made that nearly impossible.

She had been thirty-eight weeks pregnant, her chair barely fitting into the table, her hand flitting to her belly whenever someone looked with a smile or seemed overjoyed by the prospect of a perfect stranger having a baby. The waitress constantly had asked how she had been feeling, which she actually found rather sweet so she didn't comment like she normally would.

"Swan, are you okay?" Killian had asked on the walk to his car after a movie and dinner, which he bought them a load of ice cream she ate most of, and still wanted more. "You seem deep in thought."

"That's because I am." She had said softly, squeezing the hand that she had been holding. "I'm just thinking that in two weeks time, we're going to be hopefully holding our baby."

"It's pretty great, huh?"

"Amazing, I mean...I guess I never imagined myself in this life." She had shrugged but smiled wide. "It's pretty damn perfect to think that our little girl will be with us, sleeping in the crib you had made, with these perfect toes and fingers and she'll be so beautiful because she's ours so of course, she would be absolutely gorgeous."

"Any child of yours is guaranteed to be beautiful, Swan."

"Ours." She had whispered, turning to face him and pausing in her steps. "Our child. Maybe even one day children, but that doesn't matter, how many we have doesn't matter as much as who we're having them with. Which is with each other."

"That's true." He had pulled her closer gently, not caring about the fact they were in the middle of the sidewalk, nuzzling her nose sweetly. "I love you."