a thousand sweet kisses `

[mystic pearl adier]

with a thousand sweet kisses ,
^{I'LL COVER YOU}

» Mystic wouldn't try to claim that it was fun to be up all night caring for newborn twins, but she was by no means complaining. Besides it not being in her nature to complain, she knew how lucky she was that they were home and healthy. Their fate could have been that of her first baby, or she could easily have had them much earlier than she did, and then they'd have even worse problems. As it was, they were near-perfect, health wise. Despite the initial slight breathing problems and some jaundice, they weren't in any real danger of dying or suffering any major damage. Before they were released from the hospital, a doctor examined them, and was sure, he'd said, that they would be perfectly healthy, normal babies. Of course, "normal" included not allowing their parents much sleep.

» Both Mystic and the babies stayed in the hospital for about a week, them because of their weight, and the doctor wanting to make sure they could maintain their own temperatures, breathe, eat, and perform other functions, and Mystic because they wanted to clear up her infection before releasing her. Mystic came home the day before the babies, and for a week after that, there was no sleeping- for Mystic at least. It wasn't that they were particularly bad kids- they didn't cry too terribly much at night- but Mystic, being a nurse, was worried about them at night. So for the first week that they were home, she spent the night watching them carefully, and nearly refusing to sleep. To her, it was better to be really tired and catch them if something went wrong than to be asleep and not be able to help if they randomly stopped breathing. No such thing happened, but she would rather be safe than sorry. After that, Mystic finally allowed herself to sleep at night- when she could, that is. She was usually the one to get up when one of the babies cried, simply because she moved faster, and ordered Drake to go back to sleep. (She totally trusted him to take care of them correctly, but she was a nurse, and would rather take care of them herself when she could.) But if she was taking care of one and the other started crying, or they both started crying at the same time, she'd ask allow Drake to help her.

» There was already a distinct difference between the two, behavior-wise. It was almost a dead-ringer with Mystic and her sister, she'd been told by her father. They were close, already obvious friends, but at the same time polar opposites as far as how they acted. Flannery was the one who demanded more attention, and was more apt to cry just because he felt like being held, when he didn't really need anything at all. And Drake (the little one) was content to just lie there and stare at his surroundings, crying only when he needed to. Mystic, of course, loved them both to death, and always seemed to be holding one or the other, whether they wanted or needed to be or not. Not the best habit to get into, but she felt bad if she left them alone. Besides, they were just too cute to watch while they slept in her arms...

» Despite seeming like a natural at this whole being-a-mother thing, Mystic was eager to get back to work. She was torn, of course, especially since she still had several weeks left of leave- the babies were about four weeks old now- but also knew that there were babies who needed her. She was told by some of her friends that worked with her not to worry, but Mystic knew they were understaffed, and as much as she wanted to stay home and take care of her own babies, she also wanted to be at the hospital and taking some of the weight off the shoulders of the overworked nurses there. Why in God's name her first shift back was at such an obscure hour was beyond Mystic. As far as she could tell, there was no logic behind it, and not only that, it was a full twelve hours. She wouldn't complain- it was her choice to go back in the first place- but, damn, it sucked to have to be gone for so long. She would be able to come home for lunch, probably- if things weren't too busy- but still...

» Mystic yawned a little as her eyes snapped open for what must have been the tenth time that night, to the sound of none other than Flannery crying. Squinting at the clock, she saw that it was four in the morning. She hadn't bothered to set the clock, knowing that one baby or the other would likely wake her up in plenty of time to get ready, and was glad she was right. As far as she figured, she would need only about half an hour to truly get ready, the hospital was... Whatever. There was plenty of time, considering she didn't have to be at work until six. She wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, though, which kind of sucked. Mystic slid out of bed yet again, and made her way over to the crying baby, picking him up gently and taking him out into the hall, where she paced and comforted him, after confirming that being held was all he really wanted. "Shhhh, it's okay, sweetie-pie, shhhh...." She gently rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. At first, it didn't work, and Mystic feared she might have to get Drake to take him so she could get ready to go, but Flannery eventually quieted down, and fell asleep in her arms. "Oh, you're so sweet," she whispered to him as she laid him back in the crib next to his brother, who was still sleeping. For now, they slept in the same crib. They were tiny, and Mystic preferred to keep them together, if only to have that added warmth. When they got bigger, each would have his own crib.

» After a quick trip to the closet to grab a set of scrubs- God, it had been so long since she put those on, and she could only pray that they still fit- Mystic went into the bathroom and took a shower, taking her time since by then it was only almost five. After getting clean and washing her hair, she turned off the water, and wrapped a towel around her body, standing in front of the sink, and looking into the mirror while she blow-dried her hair. After being satisfied that her hair was only slightly damp and could air-dry while she made some tea and had a quick bowl of cereal, Mystic turned off the hair dryer, unplugged it, setting it on the sink, and turned to her scrubs (and other necessary garments), which were folded up on top of the closed toilet seat.

tag; Drake, duh.
pictures; outfit xx babies
lyrics; "I'll Cover You" from the RENT movie soundtrack.
status; Finished. :]

[drake fitzgerald minor III]

Drake enjoyed his sleep, of course, most human beings did. But not getting as much of it had been one of those things he’d prepared himself for when he’d found out that he’d be raising children with Mystic. He was ready for it. After all, he though, how much worse could it be than having guard duty in the middle of the night in a foreign country with people sneaking around ready to shoot you if you fell asleep? Well, he found out the answer to that question soon enough. The babies were crafty. Very crafty. Whereas guard duty involved trying to stay awake, this instead involved trying desperately to go to sleep. There wasn’t anyone sneaking around to shoot him, but there were two babies, who, it seemed, were doing their best to coordinate their efforts and ensure that Drake and Mystic got as little sleep as possible. When one of them fell asleep, the other would wake up, start crying, and more often than not, wake his brother back up again. They did this at least three times during the night, and Drake found himself dozing off at work some days. He had never been more thankful for the fact that his job, while it began early, also ended early, and he usually got to come home and take at least a brief nap.

They’d been trying to arrange their schedules (he and Mystic had, that is) so that one of them would always be home to take care of the babies. Drake knew there were probably plenty of people they could hire to do so, but he was of the opinion that it was important for babies to be raised by their own parents for the most part. Sure, there were times when a night out for the two of them wouldn’t hurt, but on the whole, he felt like he and Mystic should spend as much time with the babies as they could. That was why, or at least, Drake thought that was why, Mystic was going to work today, because it was Saturday, and as such, Drake didn’t have to go to work at all that day. It was a nice thought, especially since he’d been working and not getting much sleep the rest of that week. But he was a little nervous about taking care of the babies by himself. It would be the first time he’d been left alone with them since they were in the hospital, and that technically didn’t count, because there had been about thirty other babies around them then. He didn’t know what he was going to do if they both started crying and wouldn’t stop, if one needed a diaper change and the other needed food? He only had two arms, after all. What if he had one of his episodes and passed out, and Mystic came home to find him on the floor with screaming babies next to him? Worse, what if he passed out while he was holding one of them. For not the first time, Drake wondered if he was really cut out to be a father.

But as he dragged himself out of bed, no longer held there by the warmth that was Mystic’s presence, he tried to calm himself. He could handle this. His parents managed it, after all, with his sisters, and they were still alive. Besides, Drake’s father had been a much busier man than Drake himself was, and he’d managed to find time to be a part of Drake’s life. Yes, he could do this. He really could. He was telling himself that as Mystic walked back in to check on the babies. He smiled to himself, knowing that she was probably a little reluctant to leave them. Maybe she was afraid he was going to kill them while she was gone, too. He hoped she had a little more faith in him than that, even if he couldn’t muster up that faith in himself. She’d managed to get Flannery to stop crying; she was a lot better with them than he was, or so he was convinced. Drake came over, and rested a hand on her shoulder, looking down at the babies.

The second he looked at them, Drake (the little one) opened his eyes and let out a squalling sound that probably scared off any native wildlife within six miles. ”I can take care of him.” Drake told Mystic. ”Go ahead.” He stayed with the babies while she showered, and actually managed to get his namesake to stop crying. Miraculously, his twin remained silent as well, and Drake had just decided that they weren't going to jump up and eat him when he heard Mystic turn off the hair dryer. Feeling a little mischievous, he stepped away from the crib, and walked to the bathroom, inhaling the warmer air quietly, so as not to alert her to his presence. That goal, of course, was defeated by his appearance in the mirror in front of her as his slipped his arms around her, leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder, his hands toying at the edge of the towel. "Should I try and guess what's under this, or should I just look and see...?" he asked himself, aloud, a highly inappropriate smirk spreading across his face.

[mystic pearl adier]

» Mystic was one of those people that liked to allow plenty of time to do things. If she was going to see a movie, she would leave at least half an hour early- sometimes earlier, depending on how far away the theater showing it was- and half the time ended up sitting around for a rather long time before the movie itself actually started (she would, however, admit that it was quite annoying once the pre-advertisements started looping, and she knew the answers to all the trivia questions they asked because of the looping.) For her, it was better to allow that time and risk being super-early than to get hit with unexpected obstacles and end up taking longer than expected, and thus have to face the awkwardness of walking in late. Generally, though, she didn't get too upset if something unexpectedly came up and delayed her departure by a short while, because most of the time she was super-early and would have time to spare.

» So when she saw Drake's face in the mirror and felt his arms wrap around her, she didn't get mad, but instead smiled at him, in the mirror. What did he want? She was anticipating him trying to convince her not to go- call in sick, or just say she thought she'd be ready but wasn't. She was sure she could get away with it, since it was so soon after the babies' birth, but she wouldn't. "Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should." There were too many sick babies and too few nurses. She needed to know that it wasn't her fault that baby X didn't get the same care as baby Q, even though it wouldn't be her fault any way. She needed to know that she was there and doing her part. She'd been gone so long, and felt guilty, even though it was for totally legitimate reasons (the staying home and resting instead of being at work all day was probably what saved her babies' lives.)

» She was about to protest and tell him that no, she couldn't just call in and say she didn't want to come in, or lie and say she wasn't feeling well- which wouldn't be that far-fetched, considering- when she saw the look on his face and actually laughed a little. She wasn't one for innuendo (inYOURendo), but she wasn't one of those people that got all pissed off at people who didn't have a problem with it. Really, most of it amused her, though she didn't say or show it most of the time. It was only the particularly nasty comments that really bugged her, and that she would say something about- a polite request to shut the fuck up, perhaps?- and those "your mom" jokes, while not really innuendos, kind of irked her, to some degree, but she could bite her tongue to those. In any case, she didn't really hear most of what Drake said, because she was too distracted by him playing with her towel, and by her thoughts being elsewhere.

» She could, however, infer that he'd said something at least moderately close to an innuendo (inYOURendo), just judging by the look on his face, and couldn't help but grin at him. Oh, this was ridiculous. Even if there weren't two newborns in the general vicinity, she had to leave soon. She needed to get dressed, to eat, and probably clean up a mess in the kitchen generated by her eating preparations (she was so hopeless in the kitchen). There was no time for this... But, she decided, if she needed to, she could grab something from a vending machine at the hospital, or the cafeteria. And she didn't need that much time to get from point A to point B- to the utter shock of most people, Mystic rarely went the speed limit if there wasn't a cop around. She had no problem speeding a little; besides, she knew she'd be paying extra-close attention, just in case she needed to stop quickly. And her car had excellent brakes... Why the hell was she thinking about brakes, again?

» Without really thinking about what she was doing, Mystic placed her hand on Drake's. He should already know what was under the towel. She tried to imagine him wandering around in just a towel. Why was she imagining pulling the towel off, not to do dirty things with Drake, but to run around with it and make fun of him for being naked? She blinked a little, having clearly spaced out for a second, before her grin returned. "Well, I guess you can decide..." But, instead of waiting for a response, she turned around and kissed him, effectively making the decision for him, though really, it was still up to Drake. She had no problem either way. If they didn't, she could proceed as she'd planned, get ready, and get to work. If they did... well, the Pro side of that was pretty much a given.

[drake fitzgerald minor III]

There were a lot of reasons Drake loved Mystic, and they weren’t all physical. After all, he’d fallen in love with her before he’d done anything but kiss her. But there was undeniable chemistry between them, too (as was evidenced by the two little people in the crib in their bedroom), and every now and then, it was more obvious than other times. This was one of the obvious times. Well, at least, it was obvious to Drake. He knew she had time before she had to get to work; she was incredibly meticulous when it came to planning ahead and making time for things. He knew that Mystic, in spite of the fact that she’d never been dirty-minded, would know what he was suggesting, and therefore, when she got a strangely distant look in her eyes, he similarly knew that her mind was probably wandering. There were a few times when Drake got frustrated with her distractibility, but they were far outnumbered by the times when that same absent-mindedness was incredibly endearing. He found it hard to get mad at her, ever, even when her momentary lapses of concentration resulted in something being burned, ruined, or broken, and he tried not to laugh when she did silly things because of it.

This particular time, he waited for her attention to shift back to him, and then smiled down at her, leaning down to kiss her shoulder. ”You’re so cute when you forget I’m seducing you.” he teased. He was a little surprised that she hadn’t shut him down yet. Not that she was like…the ice queen or whatever, but she was busy woman, it was her first day of work, there were babies in the other room, and there were a number of excuses she could have legitimately used to get out of what he was suggesting they ought to do, but she hadn’t yet. He thought about picking her up and setting her down on the counter facing him, but he wasn’t sure how he’d do that without some awkward manhandling, and he didn’t want to toss her around. That wasn’t very romantic. However, kissing, which she initiated at that moment, was. Apparently, she wasn’t as adverse to the idea as he’d thought she’d be. Not at all, it seemed.

”Will they mind too much if you’re a little late for work?” Drake asked her. He supposed he could make this quick, but he knew they’d probably both enjoy it more if he didn’t, and taking your time…well, it took time. He leaned down, and kissed her again, thinking for possibly the thousandth time how much he liked the fact that he was as much taller than her as he was. He wasn’t some sort of control freak, but it made him feel protective of her. And not just in the sense that he wanted to protect her from other people, although he would undoubtedly not hesitate to kick the ass of anyone who messed with her. It was more that her size only emphasized the way he already felt that he wanted to devote all of who he was to being what Mystic needed him to be. Some people would probably make fun of him for that, say he was whipped (and they probably wouldn’t be wrong) but he didn’t really care. There was not a doubt in his mind that regardless of his occupation, regardless of what he might have done or would do in the past, present, or future, the one fact that was undeniable above all others was that he was meant to love Mystic.

So instead of picking her up, turning her around, or any of the other things he’d been thinking of doing, he moved around to stand beside her, leaning his back against the counter she was facing, and reached over her to shut the door…and he loved her. A lot.

[FTB]

[/size]

[mystic pearl adier]

» "I can throw out some sort of excuse to satisfy them." Mystic wasn't one to make excuses. If she had done something wrong, or forgotten a homework assignment back in school- which happened a massive twice- she was one of the few people that wouldn't start BSing their way through an explanation that was mostly lying anyway. Most of the people she worked with were close to her anyway, and would probably assume she was late because she just couldn't say goodbye to her babies- or because she had to do some last-minute caring for them before leaving them alone with Drake. In any case, she doubted they would be pissed at her, at least to the point of her job being in jeopardy. Even if they were initially a bit peeved, Mystic was all but sure that all she needed to do to shut them up was start talking about the babies- and then nothing else would matter, because she just knew the other nurses were dying to know how adorable the boys were. Speaking of being late, it wasn't like Mystic made a habit out of it. Actually, she had never been late- for anything. Not a doctor's appointment, not school, and certainly not work. Hell, she'd never even been late in returning a library book. That's not to say there were never any close calls. It seemed to Mystic like, not too long ago, she found herself with Flannery in a similar situation, and managed to clock in at the hospital at the exact time her shift started. After that, she learned to lock the bathroom door in the morning (or whenever she had to be somewhere at a certain time.) Comical banter resulted, just another of the fond memories of Flannery she carried with her.

"Come on, let me in," Flannery said, playfully whining as he leaned on the (locked) bathroom door, listening to the sounds of his wife doing her various pre-work things. "No. Go away!" Mystic called to him, laughing a little as she did so. She knew she didn't have to lock the bathroom door- simply telling him no was enough to get him to stop trying to get her back into bed (for the time being, at least.) But she mainly locked the door for herself. She knew that, if she saw Flannery while she was getting ready, she would really be unable to resist him...

» ...like now. She couldn't resist Drake; his face, his voice, the way he touched her... She couldn't say no to him, not now. She was sure Drake would back off if she asked him to, and there would be no hard feelings, but the problem was she couldn't ask him to back off. Concerned as she was about getting to the hospital on time, nothing could stop her from wanting him.

» Not once, through their entire relationship, had Mystic ever felt like Drake- or Flannery, for that matter- wanted her just for her body. No, they went much deeper than that. Just look at them. Any idiot could tell- it was love. Not just lust, though there was obviously some of that too. But they would be in love just the same if they didn't do this. How could she really think they were all physical, anyway? This was only the second time, ever, they had ever done this, the first being what could very well have brought the babies into existence. When they were younger, they kissed a bit, sure, and quite passionately on occasion, but even in their deepest moments, they did nothing, though Mystic couldn't be sure if that was a mutual silent agreement that they (or at least she) was too young, or the fact that her father would murder Drake if they did anything sexual. If she needed proof of their deep connection, all she needed to do was look at their history. After that first time, they didn't do anything, except for hang out. Why? Because Mystic wouldn't dream of sneaking around behind Flannery's back and doing things like she and Drake had already done once- and she was all but sure Drake wouldn't ask her to, or at least wouldn't pressure her to. After Flannery died, they didn't do anything because she was too busy crying about it. And by the time she started to rally, she was too scared of having the babies severely premature... God, it had been so long! Mystic wasn't, by nature, a very sexual person, and she had never been openly horny or anything of that nature, but damn, right now, she wanted Drake. Badly.

» It kind of amused Mystic that Drake shut the door. Why would he do that? Obviously, he intended on them staying in here, which Mystic was perfectly fine with- she probably couldn't make it all the way to their room, or all the way to the living room, without pouncing on and raping him- but did he honestly except there to be anybody- anything- walking in on them? The babies were nowhere near walking, or crawling for that matter (hell, they still had to have their necks supported) so they were out, and she highly doubted that some random person was going to barge through the front door and make their way directly to the bathroom. Mystic didn't know anyone that rude. Even her sister, who habitually walked in without waiting for the door to be answered, would give a couple warning knocks before letting herself in and, as for her father... He would wait. He'd knock a couple times, wait, then knock some more. Lather, rise repeat... Until someone let him in. At worst, one of the babies would start crying. But, chances were, it would be Flannery, and he would need nothing other than some attention- but could they really ignore him, even so?

*insert (heh heh heh) funny/ironic FTB line here*

» Despite not rushing things- a.k.a taking their time- Mystic actually managed to get to work on time. Granted, she had to break a few traffic laws, and barely managed to slow down enough to get past a cop who was parked on the side of the road without having him start to follow her, but hey, being on time was being on time. Besides, it wasn't like there were a whole lot of people out at this hour, and she didn't see a single person walking across the street, so it wasn't like she had put anyone in danger. They had *ahem* in the shower, so at least that saved her a short bit of time it would take to get from wherever else to there- because, obviously, she needed to get clean again. She was able to do so alone because, just as she was about to kick Drake out of the bathroom so she could get ready without wanting to rape him again, one of the babies- probably (little) Drake- started crying, rather loudly. She took a quick glance at the clock and sighed heavily. She didn't have much time at all. So she rushed, showered off- not bothering to wash her hair again, because really, she didn't need to- and got dressed in her black scrubs and white running shoes. She then rushed into their bedroom to grab her keys, ID tag- which she clipped to her scrubs- and gives the babies- and Drake- a kiss goodbye, before running into the kitchen, grabbing a pop-tart, and sprinting out the door, managing to grab her coat on the way out. It would be a long day, she could already tell.

» It wasn't as bad as Mystic had thought it would be, not at first, at least. She arrived just seconds before the clock switched minutes, thus it would have rendered her late, and went immediately to her usual station of duty, the nurses' station in the NICU. Not a whole lot was going on. A few early-rising parents were sitting in chairs beside their respective babies' incubators, and, in a rare occurrence, all the babies seemed to be stable for the time being. So after making a quick once-around to make sure none of the babies had managed to wriggle out of their various attachments, Mystic made her way back to the nurses' station, where she was barraged with questions, all of which she answered with a laugh. Yes, her babies were dead adorable. Yes, they were doing fine. No, she hadn't gotten much sleep lately. Yes, she would be fine to put IVs into babies that weighed an average of two pounds even with her lack of sleep. And as for her "love life since the babies"? All Mystic could do was grin and pretend her mind was elsewhere when further questions came on about that. Mystic was a pretty open person, didn't like keeping secrets or the like, but really, they didn't need to know everything...

» It didn't get bad until break time- around nine in the morning. It wasn't quite lunch time, so she couldn't go home yet, but she could go to the nurses' station. She hadn't been there in....God, a long-ass time. Mystic didn't know it would affect her so much. She hesitated to pass through the doorway. Could she really do this? With the encouragement of a fellow nurse, she made it, and managed only to hold back some tears and she plopped onto the couch. She had to fight them back. She had done so much crying already- didn't need any more. Not now. Not ever. It was where she'd met Flannery, where, when they both happened to be working the same shift, they spent as much time together as they could. It was where other nurses would make fun of how cutesy the two of them were, holding hands, cuddling on the couch until one of their beepers went off or someone came to fetch them, or break was over. Why had she thought she could make it through the day without crying? But she did, and after break resumed her watchful post. The rest of the day was uneventful until, just as she was getting ready to go home for lunch at around noon, an alarm went off. Unable to resist her nurse's instinct, Mystic immediately slid the coat off her shoulders and sprinted to the incubator of the baby in question. After that, it was like a domino effect. One baby would crash, she would attend to it, and then one across the room would crash, which she would then go attend to, only to have to turn around and attend to yet another crashing baby, and so on and so forth.

» Needless to say, she didn't make it home for lunch, and with the way things suddenly picked up in the NICU, Mystic didn't dare try to leave the hospital. So she ended up grabbing a quick lunch in the cafeteria, calling Drake to tell him, quickly, that she wouldn't be able to come home until her shift was over at 6 that evening- and, of course, ask how the babies were and demand that he put the phone up to their ears so she could talk at them- and then going right back to her station. Though the remainder of her shift was busy, at least there were no fatalities. Close calls, maybe, and some setbacks, but no deaths. It was slightly comforting to Mystic, who, the whole time, was picturing her own babies.

» Eventually, her shift was done. Mystic had never been so eager to get the hell out of the hospital so quickly in her life. Usually, she took her time grabbing her stuff and walking out, but not tonight. Not only did she want to get home as quickly as possible to see Drake and the babies, but she wanted out of the building as quickly as possible- before she would run into someone who would rope her into staying another couple of hours. No way in hell was she doing that- but, of course, she couldn't say no, and if she ended up running into one of those people, she would probably end up staying. But luckily, she didn't. She made her way to her car, turned the engine on, and barely missed hitting another car as she peeled out, and narrowly missed getting hit a few times herself on the way home. (Mystic would be the first to admit that she utterly sucked at driving.) She parked in the parking lot, made her way upstairs, down hallways, and up to their door, pulled out her keys and... quietly opened the door, popping her head inside. "Anybody home?" she whispered. She didn't want to burst in and shout that she was home, which would likely wake up any sleeping babies- or a sleeping Drake, if he was lucky enough to catch some Z's.

[drake fitzgerald minor III]

Drake, unlike Mystic, had next to no medical expertise. He knew how to put on a bandaid, but he hadn’t been a medic in the army and he certainly hadn’t gained any knowledge in that area since he’d been an elementary school teacher. But he knew that it was only logical that he shouldn’t be too rough with Mystic when she’d so recently escaped dying as a result of giving birth to the two babies who lay innocently sleeping in the other room. It made sense, any half-wit could reason that, and Drake wasn’t a half-wit by any stretch of the imagination. Granted, he hadn’t gone right off to college and done all the things his parents expected him to do, but he hadn’t just joined the army to get out of them, either. And once he’d come back, well, he’d gotten his education and was teaching other people now. Clearly, he wasn’t stupid, and since he wasn’t, he knew to be gentle.

In spite of that fact, though, he thoroughly enjoyed it. Well, of course he enjoyed it. He was a guy, he was supposed to enjoy that sort of thing. But even though they took it slow, he managed to help Mystic get her things together, and she left, supposedly on time to get to the hospital without being late, so long as she didn’t get lost. That, Drake hoped, wasn’t too much of a threat. He knew Mystic was distractible, but he also knew that she’d been making the drive to the hospital for a long time (although not necessarily from this particular location) and was probably pretty good at remembering where it was by now. Surely a few weeks out of commission wouldn’t have made her forget that. Trying not to worry, he waved to her as she all but sprinted out the door.

And then he was alone.

With the babies.

Oh, god.

Drake pushed away all contemplation of sitting on the floor and panicking, and went back to the bedroom to check on the babies. They were still sleeping, so he went to the kitchen, and put two pieces of bread in the toaster oven, got out the carton of eggs from the refrigerator, then went back to check on them again. Upon discovering that they were just as sound asleep as they had been thirty seconds prior, he went back to the kitchen, cooked himself some scrambled eggs, pulled his toast out of the oven, buttered it, and headed to the table. He had only just sat down when he realized that he felt incredibly worried, as if maybe the babies might roll over and fall out of the crib (somehow demolishing the rail) while he was sitting there stuffing his face. He took his food to the bedroom, and sat on the bed, watching the babies as he ate.

When he finished, he took his plate to the kitchen and washed it in the sink, humming to himself as he turned the water on. When he turned the water off, though, he could hear the squawking sound of one of the babies crying, and on what he fancied to be winged feet, darted back to the bedroom to pick up (as it turned out) his namesake, who had only just started fussing. Drake (the fourth) swung a tiny balled fist in the air as he protested being lifted from his comfy bed next to his twin, but he quieted soon enough after realizing that Drake’s arms were a little more comfortable anyway. Drake (the third) held him, a little awkwardly, praying to himself that Flannery wouldn’t start crying too while he was taking care of Drake the fourth.

Maybe Drake the fourth – bah, he was really going to have to come up with a new nickname. This could get confusing. Drake senior had been just Drake, and Drake junior had been just Junior. By the time Drake (the third) came along, Drake senior had been known as “Grandpa” long enough that it wasn’t too confusing for him to just go by Drake. Drake contemplated that. The middle name, Fitzgerald, wasn’t much of a name for a baby, honestly. And he certainly couldn’t call his son by a number. Mystic would murder him. ”Fitz.” he said, under his breath. Well, Mystic would probably kill him for that, too, but it would distinguish between them, so he settled on it for the moment.

Anyway, Fitz had quieted down, and Drake began to ponder how he would get the both of them to…somewhere…to feed them. Surely he couldn’t leave them in the crib all day. They were too little to go in a playpen, or to go sit in the living room and play. He couldn’t very well put them on the dining room table…or on the kitchen counter…or on the couch, they could roll off. He put Fitz back in the crib, and went to the kitchen to get a bottle out of the fridge. When he returned with it, Flannery had awoken, and although he wasn’t crying yet, Drake felt guilty giving one baby a bottle and not the other, so he went back and warmed another one up. He stood there, holding both bottles above the babies, praying they wouldn’t choke or something while he tried to keep the bottles steady whilst leaning over the crib. Eventually, they finished, and he set the bottles down, flexing his aching arms.

And that was just in the first twenty minutes she was gone.

The rest of the day passed much the same, and was possibly the longest day Drake thought he’d ever been through in his life. He was certain that he changed their diapers at least twelve times each, although the diaper supply contradicted that and gave a much more rational figure. By the time Mystic called, he was sure it must be about nine in the evening and that she was on her way home. But it was hardly noon yet. He reassured her, told her that he and the babies were fine, and told her not to worry about it, managing to keep a calm, collected tone as he screamed in terror on the inside.

But they survived, all three of them, and Drake had finally put the babies back in the crib for the nine thousandth time when Mystic got home. He was determined to sit there and watch them until she got home, which shouldn’t have been that long afterward by his reckoning. In spite of his desire to stay there and prove to her with his watchdog-like faithfulness that she could trust him with her babies. But when she came around the corner into the bedroom, as it turned out, all that she would see was two sleeping babies and Drake, head tilted forward over his chest as he too dozed, leaning up against the bed.

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[mystic pearl adier]

» She got no answer, and was actually a little relieved. The silence was nice- unless, of course, they were all dead. The far more likely explanation was that they were all asleep, which would be great. She needed sleep too, but considering how often the babies decided to wake up, they would probably do so any second, and after Drake had been alone with them all day, she didn't want to force him to keep doing so with her there. She wasn't entirely sure which of them had a more exhausting day, and didn't really want to get into it- no doubt, they were both tired, and who's to say one was more tired than the other? Quietly, she slipped inside, shut the door, locked it, and took off her shoes. As much as she wanted to just flop onto the couch, she figured she might as well let Drake know she was home, so he didn't wake up and think she was missing. Sighing, Mystic made her way back towards the bedroom and poked her head in, forcing herself not to giggle at the sight. All of them were sleeping... The boys were so cute and innocent-looking when they weren't screaming and squirming around. Part of her didn't want to go in and risk waking them up, but the other part wanted to burst in and snuggle them all- or at least hold the boys. It would be so nice to just to see a couple of healthy babies after being surrounded by so many sick ones.

» Her debate, however, didn't last very long. Flannery apparently noticed her there and started crying and squirming around. Mystic was instantly en route to the crib, but the squirming caused Flannery to hit his brother in the face, and then they were both cry. "Hey, no no no,"[/color she said, gently scooping Flannery up and rubbing his back before holding him in one arm while using the other hand to comfort (little) Drake. "Shhh, it's okay, sweetie." Perhaps this was an inappropriate moment to start giggling, but Mystic did, as the irony hit her- or was it deja vu?- when Flannery's little fist met Drake's unsuspecting face. Of course, this time it was unintentional, and there really wasn't a reason for it. Still, she found it kind of funny. She quickly regained her composure, glad that (little) Drake managed to clam down, though his brother was still fussing. "Shh, what's wrong?" She gently rocked him and rubbed his back until he finally calmed down, and fell asleep. She continued rocking him for a little bit before laying him back down.

» It was weird to think of her two boys as "big", since really, they were still pretty small, but compared to some of the babies she handled earlier, they were giants. Just hours ago, she'd held a baby that weighed somewhere in the vicinity of two pounds- just a fraction of what (little) Drake and Flannery now weighed. It was comforting to know that they quickly gained health, despite a somewhat-rocky start. She'd managed to hold them long enough... A couple more days, or weeks, wouldn't have hurt, but they were never in as much danger as ninety percent of her patients. And damn they were cute. She was slightly biased, and yes, every mother thinks her own baby is the cutest thing ever, but Mystic was convinced that these two really were.

» Sighing, Mystic sat down beside Drake and gently grabbed his hand, resting her head on his shoulder. No doubt, the crying would have woken him up- if it hadn't, she'd be worried about how much crying the babies would have done before he did wake up, if she weren't there- so she didn't bother asking him if he was awake. But, she was unable to stop herself from starting to giggle again. "So, I heard you don't know how to read an ultrasound..." Yeah, one of the other nurses told her the story... She cracked up when they told her. Feet... Wow. She thought he was a lot smarter than that. She still didn't think he was stupid, considering he'd probably never had training to read an ultrasound, but still... most people would know they're not feet. But, this wasn't the time for playful teasing. They'd better try to get some sleep- as much as they could, whenever they could. "Hmm.. let's try to get some sleep before the wake up again."

[mystic pearl adier]

Mar 24, 2009 1:53:05 GMT -5 drake fitzgerald minor III said:

He woke up almost immediately when she came in, once Flannery started crying, and instantly there were a million thoughts circulating in his mind. Oh, God, he’d fallen asleep and for how long and how long had Flannery been crying and when was Mystic going to be home, she was never going to forgive him for leaving the children unattended. It only took him a split second to snap out of that, but in that moment, instinct and reflex kicked in and he tried to get up, stumbling in a slightly zombie-like way as he did so and falling back down onto his ass. He noticed Mystic’s presence, and relaxed ever so slightly as he watched her take care of the babies. She was beautiful, he thought, probably for the millionth time since he’d met her. And somehow, watching her take care of his children was even more incredibly appealing. Not in a sexy way (although watching her bend over gave her an adequate view of...well, that wasn’t important), more in the way that with every day he spent with her, he became more and more convinced that if he spent the rest of his life with her, it still wouldn’t be long enough.

She managed to quiet the babies, as he expected that she probably could. And then she turned her attention to him. ”Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting to see two of them.” he replied, stifling a slightly embarrassed grin. He was surprised she hadn’t heard about that already, what with as much as women tended to gossip with other women. ”Plus that was the first ultrasound I’d ever seen, and I was still a little bit in shock, what with you passing out and maybe nearly dying and all.” Maybe that would excuse it. He grinned, taking a moment to hold her hand, sniffing her hair in a completely non-creepy way (was that possible) as she rested her head on his shoulder. ”Flannery said his first word today.” he said, poking fun at his own prior ignorance (as he was certainly well aware that it would be a number of months before either baby would be saying anything coherent). He didn’t wait for her to laugh, but instead got up, scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to bed, plopping her down rather unceremoniously on the spread.

”I don’t know how it’s possible that two little boys as small as they are could be so much more difficult to handle than thirty second-graders, but I think they proved it today.” he told her, lying flat on his back beside her and staring upwards toward the ceiling. ”I mean, where or when is the point when they go from getting more difficult to take care of to less difficult to keep an eye on?” It seemed that the older these babies got, the more they liked to wake up and cry, the more food they needed, and the less they just lay there and were silent. But since second-graders were at least a little more predictable, if not necessarily well-behaved, there had to be a point in there somewhere that marked the top of the hill...or at least, the top of the first hill before adolescence and the joys of raising teenagers.

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[mystic pearl adier]

» First ultrasound viewing, that was understandable. But still... "Yeah, but... feet?" Still, she would let it go. Tired as they both were, the last thing she ought to to was tell him exactly what he should and shouldn't know. He wasn't stupid, but damn he did stupid things sometimes. But she loved him, and even if he was doing something stupid, she thought he was absolutely adorable. "It's okay. Half the time you don't want to be able to read an ultrasound." Radiology wasn't something Mystic was exposed to often, since most of the ultrasounds on her patients were scheduled and done in the radiology department, but she'd been there for a few emergency scans to check for brain bleeds, and one almost made her cry- pretty bad bleed, which she wish she hadn't seen.

» She giggled as Drake picked her up and set her on the bed. Maybe she wasn't the most quick-witted. She felt kind of stupid, because for a split second, she actually believed him, though after she realized he was kidding, it was funny. "They're not allowed to speak unless those first words are the entire Gettysburg Address. Or some other impossibly long, irrelevant doc... Wait... The... No, that was a speech. ...Right?" She had to stop and facepalm right there. Drake taught history for God's sake- he would know this. And for whatever reason, she didn't. She'd always hated history, a lot. Hated everything about it. She was more of a science person, and even though she never actually fell asleep in history classes, she'd come pretty close a few times. Goddamn were they boring. But she couldn't tell Drake that. That would be kind of mean.

» Ah, now something she did know about- or could at least fake knowing about. She smirked a little. "I hope their behavior wasn't as horrid as mine was as a child." She giggled a little. She'd been the picture of obedience as a kid. Not perfect by any means, but she obeyed more often than the average kid, even when she really didn't want to. In fact, she'd only been grounded a grand total of once in her entire life- and she'd never gotten the opportunity to tell Drake about it. And she wouldn't, either- unless he pressed the issue. She was sure he'd either find it offensive or make fun of her for it.

» "Hmmm..." She pondered for a bit, as if actually giving critical thought to his question. She shrugged a little, though, sure her contemplated rant on child development was as boring to him as a history lesson would be to her. But because she failed to remember this, she began anyway, after laying her head on his chest, speaking as she listened to his heart. "Well, it depends on how well-behaved they are, when they learn to walk and how well they can be trained to stay where they're told... I wonder how you train a fish? Their memories are like... three seconds long, I think. Maybe twelve. In Venice, I bet they don't even bother with "Beware of Attack Dog" signs. It's probably all "Beware- Attack Barracuda"-" She yawned a little and, without even finishing her sentence- or string of them, it seemed, fell asleep.