Wayward Son Crack (Carry On Crack Pt. 2)

So Happy Christmas, I Love You Baby

BAZ

I wake up with a startle and look around to see Simon nowhere in sight. The sun is streaming in through the blinds into our room and I squint to see everything better. I swing my feet out of bed and feel around for my slippers on the floor and put them on to go look for Simon.

When I walk out of our room I see that the clock on the wall reads 8AM. Crowley, I overslept.

I creep down the hall to Tasha's room, hoping I don't wake her if she's not already up. When I open the door a crack to peep in I see the most glorious sight. Simon Snow, the man who used to sleigh dragons and garrote goblins in his free time, is sitting in a white rocking chair while holding our little girl and feeding her a bottle.

It truly looks like a picture out of a magazine.

Ever since Natasha came into our lives everyday has been filled with highs and lows that would give even the strongest person alive whiplash. She turns a year old in January and I don't think I could ever properly explain how miraculously fast and dreadfully slow this year has gone by.

All the early mornings, late nights, tantrums, parental tantrums, fights, and firsts have brought us here, and I can't help but feel proud of us for getting here. Especially Simon.

Simon is a natural father. He was nervous at first when we were trying to find a surrogate. He worried that he would be like his own father, or that he wouldn't be maternal or paternal enough, and even that the baby's magic would somehow be messed up because of him. (We had to use his seed because of my vampire-ness, and he got his magic back years ago, but he was still a wreck over the thought that he would muddle up our child.)

We eventually found a lovely woman, a distant Grimm cousin of mine who said she never wanted kids of her own but would be more than happy to help us start our own family, and nine months later Natasha Lucy Grimm Pitch Snow was born.

And now here she is, feverishly sucking on an empty bottle for any last drop and trying to reach out and pull on her father's curls.

"Now you stop that!" Simon giggles whilst gently swatting her chubby little hand away. Tasha just keeps trying and eventually drops her bottle to the floor and giggles along with her dad.

"Dada! Dada!" She squeals as she continues to shove her little fists into Simon's hair.

"Get him, Tasha! C'mon, you got this," I cheer as I finally enter the nursery.

"Oh no Tasha! The beast has finally awoken!" Simon yells while he looks at me and balances Tasha on his knee.

"If I'm a beast in the mornings then you're a monster."

"Hey, I'm good in the mornings! What are you talking about?"

"Oh no, I just mean in general," I smirk. "Now, how is my girl doing on this beautiful Christmas Eve morning?" I ask before I plop onto the floor next to Simon's seat and pick up the dropped bottle to fiddle with in my hands.

"Tasha is doing just fine, thank you very much. We just finished breakfast and we were planning on getting dressed before we went to wake you up but I suppose I can never execute a plan when it comes to you."

"No, I do suppose I'm the one in this relationship who is better at plotting."

"Oh sod off!" He pushes my shoulder and I tip back a bit before tipping upright again, all while staring at him and watching his smile stay glued on his face, never faltering.