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Gil heads directly to the SUV before Malcolm can even 'casually' suggest it, though he casts a longing look at his car where it sits lonely and underutilized in front of the house. They're opting for the new SUV more and more these days, now that Malcolm's baby bump is really starting to grow. Though Malcolm refuses to admit it, Gil has noticed that getting in and out of the low muscle car is becoming progressively more challenging for him, and Gil is all for doing whatever he can to make this pregnancy as easy as possible for his husband.
Besides, it will be easier to load the two trays of Easter themed cupcakes and the five foot plush rabbit into the back of the SUV than in the trunk of the car, anyway.
Gil gets the desserts securely tucked in the corner of the trunk then turns to take the rabbit from Malcolm, only to stop in his tracks when he really looks at the kid. The rabbit is nearly as tall as Malcolm, with floppy ears and the softest fur Gil has ever felt on a stuffed animal. Even he can admit that it's adorable (though he refuses to ask how much it cost. It's enough that he knows it came from one of those boutique shops that Jessica often frequents, and he's therefore long since stopped asking about prices), but the rabbit has nothing compared to how endearing Malcolm looks with his arms wrapped around the rabbit's chest.
The bulk of the plushie is pushed to the side by the swell of Malcolm's stomach, though somehow one of the loose, flappy ears has ended up flopping on top of Malcolm's head.
"Hold on," Gil says, raising a finger, trying to keep Malcolm from moving even an inch while he reaches for his phone. He manages to snap a picture or two before Malcolm figures out what he's doing and shoos Gil aside with a quiet chuckle and a roll of his eyes, heaving the rabbit into the trunk.
"Don't you think you have enough pictures of me on your phone already?" Malcolm is smiling as he straightens back up, already knowing exactly what Gil's answer is going to be.
"Never."
He's got a folder on his phone dedicated to photos of Malcolm since they found out he was pregnant. Lazy mornings in bed, dressed up for New Year's eve, even a lunch date at the precinct from a couple weeks back. Anytime Gil is struck speechless by just how beautiful Malcolm is, he snaps a picture to remember it by.
There are…a lot of pictures.
"You're getting sentimental, you know," Malcolm teases but leans in and tugs Gil down for a quick kiss, which Gil is more than happy to accept.
"Just preparing for fatherhood," he laughs, pulling Malcolm even closer, until his belly is pressed up against Gil's and he can capture Malcolm's lips in a far deeper kiss.
They don't let it linger too long — they have places to be, after all — but it's still a perfect start to a Sunday morning out as far as Gil is concerned.
"Okay, kid. Do you have everything you need?" Gil asks, releasing his grip on Malcolm and turning to close the trunk door. They are very pointedly not calling Malcolm's newfound forgetfulness 'baby brain' but the effect is the same regardless. Malcolm seems to forget things like his keys, his wallet, his doctor's appointments on a fairly regular basis these days. Honestly, when they leave the house now, it's more likely than not that they'll have to turn back around to pick something up.
"Yeah. I think so."
Gil walks Malcolm to the passenger side and opens the door for him, waiting until he's settled before closing the door behind him and heading to the driver's side. They're three blocks away before he hears the expected gasp from Malcolm.
"I forgot to shut the oven off!"
Gil's chuckle floats through the space between them as he reaches across to give Malcolm's hand a squeeze. "I checked before we left, sweetheart. You shut it off."
Malcolm flushes a lovely shade of pink, dipping his head as he huffs out a self-deprecating laugh. "What would I do without you?"
"Burn the house down," Gil teases. He softens the words by taking hold of Malcolm's hand and pulling it to his lips, planting a kiss to his knuckles. The funny thing is, Malcolm's mind is still as sharp as ever. He's still consulting on cases (from home and the precinct only. After extensive conversations they agreed to cut out his field work until after the baby is born), and he's still finding connections that no one else would ever discover. It's just the little things that seem to be forgotten.
"Well then it's a good thing I have you. It would be a shame to burn down the house when we've almost finished renovations."
Gil laughs and pecks Malcolm's knuckles one more time before he releases his hold and gives the kid his hand back. The renovations were Malcolm's idea, and Gil was admittedly reluctant at first, but now that they're underway, he's loving how the house is looking.
Even if one renovation leads to another and another and another.
Once the work is completed, though, the house will be so much better suited for how they use it, and far safer for the baby (which is what kicked off the changes in the first place. Malcolm didn't even need to point out the tripping hazard on the floor when JT and Tally came over for New Year's Eve with Jackson. Gil noticed it the second the little boy toddled into the kitchen and stumbled over the strip that separated the linoleum from the hardwood in the hallway). With finishing touches scheduled for mid-week, the house will be their forever home soon enough.
And if Gil harbours hidden plans for the office to maybe, one day, become a second nursery, well, that's a hope he can keep to himself for the time being.
The drive to JT and Tally's is surprisingly quick, and soon enough they're pulling into a spot on the street, about a block and a half from the Tarmel's apartment. Gil doesn't mind the walk, especially since the sun is out in full force, its warmth providing a wonderful counterbalance to the slight chill that lingers in the air as winter breathes its last.
Malcolm grabs the giant rabbit again, while Gil carries the treats, and as soon as they round the corner to JT's block, they run into the man himself, walking just a few feet in front of them. JT is slightly hunched, reaching down so Jackson can hold onto his finger, the two of them slowly making their way toward the apartment.
"Hey there, little man!" Gil calls out, already feeling a surge of energy and love as he sees Jackson again. The boy is so full of life that Gil somehow feels ten years younger every time he gets to play with the little guy.
"Gwampa!" Jackson shouts, spinning so fast he nearly topples over. He's already smiling so big his cheeks are plumped up before he even sees Gil. But then he catches sight of the giant rabbit Malcolm is holding and his eyes go saucer wide, mouth dropping open as he stares at the enormous stuffed animal. It actually takes a second or two for Jackson to find his words. "Bunny!"
"Guess I'm chopped liver," Malcolm murmurs, but the grin on his face says he doesn't really mind.
Jackson runs towards them, his footsteps more sure, more steady, than they were even just two weeks ago. Gil is always surprised by how much he's grown every time he sees him. He practically throws himself at Malcolm, wrapping his arms around Malcolm's leg to keep from bouncing off, and then reaching one arm up to grab at the rabbit's foot.
"Hi!"
"Hi, J." Malcolm ruffles Jackson's hair then turns to JT with a smile. "JT."
"Bright, Boss. Thanks for coming out today," JT says, gaze drifting from Gil to Malcolm to the rabbit. "Who's your friend?"
"Actually, it's Jackson's new friend," Malcolm beams, looking so damn pleased that Gil can't help but lean in and drop a kiss on his temple. Even JT looks amused, despite his eye roll and the small shake of his head. Gil's pretty sure that Malcolm hasn't spent a day with Jackson that didn't involve at least one small gift. He's almost as bad as Jessica and Ainsley are with gifts for baby Bright-Arroyo (not that Gil would dare to say such a thing). "Happy Easter!"
Gil can see JT debate on telling Malcolm — again — that he doesn't need to keep bringing Jackson gifts, but in the end he just shakes his head once more and says, "Happy Easter, man. Trade?"
Malcolm is quick to hand the rabbit over, and as soon as he does, he's bending over to scoop Jackson up, the boy's high-pitched giggle ringing through the street as he finds a home perched on Malcolm's hip.
And God, is Malcolm beautiful like this.
At almost twenty-seven weeks pregnant, it looks like he has half a basketball shoved in his perfectly-tailored, baby-blue pregnancy shirt. And pregnancy suits him. He has that glow that Gil had always assumed was an old wives tale, something indefinable but so pronounced that it's impossible to miss.
More than that, though, he looks happy.
And with a kid on his hip and his belly swollen with their baby, Gil wants to keep Malcolm like that forever.
Gil only notices he's staring when he feels three sets of eyes on him, two gazes that are incredibly amused and then Jackson, who seems to be staring only because daddy and uncle Bright are.
"Right. Yes. Happy Easter," Gil says quickly. "Should we head inside?"
JT's smirk leaves Gil's cheeks feeling flushed, but the detective chooses not to comment, instead stopping them from moving any closer to the building by angling himself and the rabbit between Gil and Malcolm and the door.
"Not just yet." JT says, switching the rabbit to his other arm so he can pull out his phone. He unlocks it and opens his text thread with Tally as he explains why they're waiting outside. "Tally is still h-i-d-i-n-g the e-g-g-s."
"Pretty sure he's not going to understand what you're saying even if you don't spell it out," Gil says with a chuckle. Ever since Jackson was born, JT has taken to spelling out some actions and replacing cuss words with tamer variants and it never fails to amuse Gil (hearing the burly detective shout 'firetruck' last week when he dropped his mug of coffee at the precinct had been the highlight of Gil's day).
"Actually, at Jackson's age, there is a substantial difference between receptive and expressive language," Malcolm offers, smiling down at Jackson as the boy reaches out to lay a hand on Malcolm's belly.
Gil is honestly surprised that the little guy remembers feeling the baby kick last time they were together, but he's obviously waiting to feel it again. And Malcolm looks so damn soft as he looks at the hand on his belly, that it takes a second for Gil to catch up with what he just said.
"What?"
JT beats him to it.
Malcolm looks up, completely at ease as he says, "Jackson understands far more than you might think. His vocabulary is limited, but his comprehension of what's being said is actually rather impressive."
JT looks just as surprised as Gil feels, not at Malcolm's knowledge on the subject — the kid has taken to reading every scientific journal and every mommy blog he comes across in preparation for their own little bundle of joy — but at the information itself. Gil makes a mental note to keep that in mind.
Just then, though, JT's phone dings and his face lights up. "Alright J-man, let's go see what the Easter Bunny left behind!"
JT does a quick juggle, taking Jackson from Malcolm and securing him in the curve of his arm, pressed to JT's chest with little arms wrapped around his neck. All the while, he keeps a loose hold on the rabbit, which Jackson reaches out to pet as soon as he's settled.
"Bunny!" Jackson giggles.
"Yeah, man. The Easter bunny came for you. Let's go see what he left."
JT's enthusiasm leaves Gil and Malcolm grinning at one another as they follow him through the front doors of the building and into the elevator. And when they reach the apartment, Tally is waiting just outside the door looking even more excited than JT.
Jackson is still young enough that he doesn't quite understand what's happening, but once they're in the apartment and he finds the first egg —nestled in the laces of one of JT's shoes — he seems to catch his parents' excitement. Gil takes the desserts to the kitchen, setting them down on an already full countertop (Tally has absolutely outdone herself with the feast she's prepared for them all), just as Jackson comes sailing into the kitchen, eyes wide and both hands full with eggs he's already discovered.
A light nudge with Gil's foot has the kitchen chair next to him pushing back from the table, and Jackson lights up as he sees another egg on the seat of the chair. His excited gasp leaves Gil grinning ear to ear, getting sucked into the simple joy of the boy in front of him. And it's not just him, either.
When he looks over to Malcolm, he finds his husband with a hand on his belly and a smile on his face, and Gil knows the kid is thinking about when they have their own little one running around, searching for Easter eggs. Gil is picturing the same thing.
And he can't wait.
"Maybe next year Jackson and our daughter can do the Easter egg hunt together," Gil says quietly as he walks up beside Malcolm, wrapping an arm around his back as he settles next to him, watching Jackson try to pick up the eggs while his hands are already full.
"She'll only be nine months old next Easter," Malcolm grins up at him. "She won't even be walking yet."
Gil brushes it off with a wave of his hand. "Semantics."
Malcolm snickers and leans in a little closer, right up until Jackson finally comes over and shoves one of his eggs into Malcolm's hand.
Then they're officially on Egg Holding duty.
The four adults spend the next little while following Jackson around, taking the eggs he passes them each time he finds a new one and needs a free hand to pick it up. Eventually, he finds them all, though it takes quite a bit longer to make him understand the game is over and there are no eggs left to be found.
By then, it's time for Easter brunch, and they all settle around the table, passing around plates and plates of delicious, home-cooked foods. Tally's cooking is never a disappointment, and Gil digs in with gusto, smiling as he watches Malcolm do the same. Even Jackson settles long enough to make a decent dent in the plate JT sets on the tray of his high chair.
When brunch is finished and the leftovers (so many leftovers) are packed away, they move into the living room to chat over coffee. Tally curls into JT's side on the couch, while Gil settles on the love seat. But instead of sitting next to Gil, Malcolm carefully lowers himself to the floor, his shoulder just nudging Gil's leg.
It's not a surprise, really. Malcolm seems to enjoy being on the same level as Jackson whenever they get together, and Jackson most certainly enjoys climbing on Malcolm whenever he does.
Gil makes a mental note to look into a plush area rug for their living room as he watches Malcolm settle cross-legged on the carpet. If the kid spends this much time on the floor with someone else's toddler, he can imagine that Malcolm will practically live there with their own.
"Bright. Dude. You know we have furniture, yeah?" JT teases, but Gil can spot a hint of concern behind the man's eyes as Malcolm shifts to get comfortable. Getting up and down is definitely not as easy for Malcolm as it used to be and Gil constantly has to fight the urge to reach out and try to steady him. He suspects JT, with the innate need the man possesses to protect everyone, feels similarly.
"I think Bright is the furniture," Tally answers as Jackson beelines for Malcolm, stepping into the space between Malcolm's legs and then plopping down on his thigh, his hands planted firmly on Malcolm's belly.
Malcolm just huffs a laugh and rubs a hand over Jackson's back. "I'm good here."
Malcolm's always been good with kids, but ever since he discovered he was pregnant, it's like his paternal instinct was dialled up to eleven.
He's going to be such a damn good daddy.
Gil leans forward and plants a quick kiss on the top of Malcolm's head, the tiniest indicator of the love he feels for the amazing man in front of him.
"What's that for?" Malcolm asks quietly, looking over his shoulder to Gil, a small but pleased smile settled on his lips and glimmering in his eyes.
"For being you."
Malcolm flushes, but tilts his head up for a kiss, and Gil is quick to lean down and brush their lips together, so very softly.
"You guys are disgustingly adorable," JT says with an amused half-grimace, causing Malcolm's lips to tick up at the corners. The way that movement feels against Gil's own lips somehow makes Gil's heart swell even more.
When he sits back up, it's just in time to see Tally elbow JT playfully in the stomach. "What my husband means to say, is that we're happy to see you two are still so deeply in love." When she shoots JT an expectant glare, JT nods and mutters his agreement with a quiet yes dear. Gil can tell they're both struggling not to laugh, refusing to be the first to crack, and he can only hope that he and Malcolm have that same playful camaraderie when they're nearly a decade into their own marriage.
(He doesn't doubt for a second that they will.)
They stick around for the afternoon, chatting and snacking on the desserts that Malcolm made, and it's one of the nicest Easters Gil's ever had. He can tell by how relaxed Malcolm is that it's the same for him, too.
By the time they're ready to head out, Jackson is fast asleep, curled up against the ridiculously large rabbit where it currently sits on the far side of the couch. Jackson looks so comfortable that Gil actually debates, just for a moment, getting another rabbit for their daughter.
But then he thinks of all of the baby paraphernalia building up in their nursery (most of which was brought over by Jessica or Ainsley, their unshakable excitement for the newest member of the family making itself known in an unending stream of gifts), and he suddenly remembers that there might not actually be room for the baby in there, let alone a five foot rabbit.
"Thank you for coming out today," Tally says, taking hold of Malcolm's arm as she walks them to the door. "And for the rabbit, too. Obviously he loves it."
"Thank you for inviting us," Malcolm says sincerely. "Easter wasn't like this growing up, not after…"
Over the last few months, Gil has noticed it seems harder and harder for Malcolm to talk about his father. He hasn't pressed him, knowing Malcolm will speak about it when he's good and ready and not a moment before, but everytime he says something like this — a sentence that deadends and fades into the ether — Gil makes sure Malcolm knows he's there to talk whenever he's ready. Right now, Gil reaches out and wraps a hand around the back of his neck, giving a light squeeze and a gentle smile.
"Ready to go, kid?" Gil asks, helping to change the subject.
He receives a grateful smile and nod in return before Malcolm clears his throat and turns to JT and Tally. "Happy Easter!"
"Happy Easter, man. You too, boss."
A round of hugs and goodbyes and soon enough, they're back in the car, heading home. Malcolm is quiet at first, rubbing soothing circles over the baby bump as they weave in and out of traffic, and Gil leaves him to his thoughts for the time being. But when Malcolm finally gives his head a shake and clears his throat, Gil is all ears, ready for whatever his husband has to say. He's completely taken by surprise, though, when Malcolm starts to speak about Martin.
"My father," he starts and then sucks in a breath, like he's trying to cleanse himself of the man after just referring to him. "Is a dangerous man. Even locked in a cell and chained to a wall, it only takes a few well chosen words for him to wreak havoc on anyone near him."
It's hardly breaking news, but it is rather unexpected to hear it coming from Malcolm. Right up until Christmas, Malcolm was still visiting Martin fairly regularly for help with their cases. Since Malcolm found out he was pregnant, though, he hasn't been back even once. Hasn't suggested consulting with Martin for any of the cases that have landed in Major Crimes. Hasn't spoken about him at all, really.
"I don't want him in our daughter's life. In any capacity. Obviously she'll never go to Claremont, never meet him, but I don't even want him to exist, as far as our child is concerned."
And that is breaking news.
"Okay." Gil sure as hell isn't going to argue the point. The farther away Martin Whitly is the better, and not just when it comes to the baby. If this new mindset keeps Malcolm away from the man, Gil will do whatever it takes to make it work.
"That's it? Just, 'okay?'"
"Yep." Gil doesn't bother trying to hide the small smile that sneaks its way onto his face. "No offense kid, but I ended up with the world's worst father-in-law when I married you. It's not exactly a hardship to cut him out of our lives."
Malcolm actually laughs at that. An honest to God, belly-deep laugh that makes his baby bump shake and his eyes crinkle up at the corners. Gil watches with a grin as Malcolm rests a hand on the swell, his laughter settling into a small chuckle as he looks down at the bump and says, "Sorry, Sweet Pea."
"I doubt she minds waking up to the sound of your laugh." Gil would wake up to it every day, given the option.
"The fist she's digging into my bladder says otherwise." Malcolm is still smiling, rubbing gently over his belly as he speaks.
He seems lighter, somehow. Happy.
And happy is a good look on him.
Gil knows it's not as simple as pretending Martin doesn't exist, knows that, eventually, their child is bound to discover who her grandfather really is. At that point, they'll need to sit down as a family and have a very complicated discussion, but for now, he's more than happy to pretend that one Martin Whitly never walked the earth at all.
He reaches out and grabs hold of Malcolm's hand, intertwining their fingers as he lets their hands rest on Malcolm's thigh.
"You know you'll be okay without him, right?"
Malcolm nods distractedly, like he's not entirely sure he believes it, but Gil can tell he's considering the truth of that statement and gives him the time he needs to think it through. Their hands remain linked together for the rest of the drive, and it's only once they pull up in front of their house that Malcolm finally speaks.
"I will be okay without him."
Gil kills the engine and shifts in his seat to better face Malcolm. In the quarter of a century that they've known each other, Gil has seen Malcolm wear a thousand masks of determination — ones born of hope, others born of resilience, most often slapped together with sheer stubbornness and force of will.
But this is something more than any of that.
The determination he sees on Malcolm's face now is forged in the fires of self-discovery.
This is enlightenment.
And Gil couldn't possibly be prouder of the man in front of him.
Gil leans across the space between their seats, lightly cuping Malcolm's face between his hands as he kisses him, pouring every ounce of admiration and awe that he feels into the simple gesture.
"I love you so damn much, kid," Gil says when he pulls back. The words are thick with the emotions building up in his chest.
With his eyes locked on Malcolm, he sees the kid sway from confused to flustered to proud in the blink of an eye. And then those fathomless blue eyes sparkle with a glint of humour.
"If I'd known you were going to kiss me like that, I would have cut him out of my life years ago."
Gil tries not to laugh, he really does, but it's a futile effort and he's still chuckling as he kisses Malcolm once more. "Just imagine what I'll do once I get you inside."
He's only half serious, mostly just playing along with the levity that Malcolm is injecting into their conversation, but with the way Malcolm shivers, the way he bites down on his bottom lip, Gil is certainly open to making it a reality.
"Come on, kid. We have the rest of the afternoon to ourselves. Let's make the most of it."
~~~
Several hours later, as they lie in bed with Malcolm's head pillowed on Gil's shoulder and Malcolm practically purring in content, Gil realizes that this is far and above the best Easter he's ever had.
And, as he rests his hand on Malcolm's bared belly, feeling their daughter shift in the safety of her little home, he knows that this is just the first in a long line of exceptional Easters to come. Next year at this time, their daughter will be in their arms, still too young to understand the Easter bunny and the presents that will be left for her, but there's already a buzzing excitement in Gil's chest at the thought.
Maybe he'll get that stuffed rabbit after all.