Work Text:
’BALLS!’
A heavy metallic clang reverberated throughout the small apartment as a saucepan hit the tiled kitchen floor; accompanied by several of Cosima’s all-too-common curse words. The dreadlocked clone looked down at the mess on the floor, at tiny bits of macaroni slipping between her toes on top of a river of cheese sauce.
‘Oh for fu-’
‘COSIMA!’ Delphine interjected. The blonde woman had heard her wife’s outburst and had come running from the bedroom to scold the brunette. ‘How many times do I have to tell you,’
‘No swearing in front of the baby’ Cosima joined in as Delphine repeated, what had almost come to be, her motto.
‘If you know it so well then why is it so hard for you to put into action?’
The blonde woman walked around the breakfast island to examine the mess that her wife had made. She threw her hands up in dismay, sighing as she turned to grab kitchen towel and cleaner. Cosima smiled and offered her hand out for kitchen towel to help to clean.
‘Look, I’m sorry.’ She said pushing her glasses further up her face and trying her best to catch Delphine’s attention, but the blonde woman knew if she looked up, she’d forgive her wife almost instantly.
‘Hmmm’
‘I’m just so used to it…plus…it’s only another word. It’s only the social taboo surrounding curse words that give them power and significance.’
‘I’m not having this debate again, Cosima.’ Delphine gathered the wet towels and shot Cosima a serious but playful look, letting the brunette woman know that she had forgiven her but that she needed to clean up her act. ‘You know I love you Cosima, I just don’t want Emily’s first word to be a profanity’
‘I know, I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.’ Cosima raised her hand in the air, her index, middle and ring fingers stood straight with her thumb covering her little finger. ‘Scouts honour’
-
Cosima had been the one to take maternity leave when they had adopted Emily. The pair had been desperate to have a child but Duncan’s code, despite being able to cure Cosima, did not allow her to become fertile and the bullet that Delphine had taken after confronting Neelan had caused her body so much stress and trauma that being pregnant would more than likely lead to complications for both parties. Emily was 9 months old at the time of the ‘macaroni incident’ and Cosima had been perfect since - in front of her spouse at least. As Delphine left for work each morning, Cosima reverted to her old, laid-back self with profanities flying around the room with each dropped bottle and stubbed-toe.
A few days after the incident, Emily and Cosima were playing peekaboo in the living room. The small child smiled and giggled as her mother appeared and disappeared from view. The more animated Cosima got with her hand movements and faces, the louder the laughter from her daughter. Intoxicated by the sound, Cosima threw her arms out and shouted ‘PEEKABOO’ in the silliest and loudest voice she could achieve, but in doing so swatted a full glass of water onto the floor.
‘Oh, shit!’ A voice called out. A tiny, high-pitched and babyish voice.
Cosima looked at her daughter in disbelief. Could it really have been Emily that had cursed? To test it, Cosima knocked one of her daughter’s toys onto the floor.
‘Oh, shit.’ The same voice babbled out. This time, however, Cosima was sure it had come from her 9-month old daughter…as her first word. The dreadlocked woman was feeling conflicting emotions. Her daughter, her pride and joy and love had just spoken for the first time and she was responsible for it but at the same time; her daughter, her pride and joy and love has just shouted ‘shit’ and she was responsible for it.
Luckily for Cosima, Emily only seemed to swear when things were dropped, a learned response from her mother.
‘It’s all good, Cosima, you can do this. You just have to make it through the next…few years… without dropping anything. Just until Emily can fully understand reasoning and then you can explain to her why we don’t use that word.’ Cosima flopped onto the couch. ‘Who am I kidding? I’m f…in deep doo-doo.’
‘I’m home, mon amour!’ Delphine called from the hallway.
Cosima took deep breaths as she prepared herself for a whole night of being on her guard. Not only did Cosima have to make sure that she didn’t drop anything, she had to make sure her wife didn’t either.
‘Cherie?’
‘Hey! In the living room.’
Delphine leaned across the back of the couch and Cosima tilted her head backward to receive a kiss.
‘And how have my two favourite girls been today?’
‘Fine!’ Cosima interjected quickly.
Delphine glanced at her wife questioningly as she took Emily from her walker and took her in her arms. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yep, perfectly fine…A-Okay’. Cosima knew she was over-compensating, but couldn’t stop herself from throwing up an ‘okay’ hand gesture and winking slightly. She knew that Delphine knew she was hiding something, but also knew the French woman would wait for Cosima to crack and tell her herself.
Delphine placed Emily back into her walker and threw her long grey coat onto the smaller couch. In doing so, the corner of her coat struck the vase at the centre of the coffee table and sent it tumbling to the ground. In horror, Cosima threw herself towards the falling glass, and managed to stop it from hitting the ground.
The brunette sighed in relief as she felt the cool glass in her hand rather than on the floor.
‘Oh, shit!’
The words reverberated throughout the tiny apartment just like the pan all those weeks ago. Delphine’s body had hardened and her marble-like jaw shifted from side-to-side as she ground her teeth, trying so desperately not to get into a screaming match in front of Emily.
‘Cosima?’ She enquired calmly.
The brunette gulped. ‘Uh-uh?’
‘Can I speak to you in the bedroom, please?’
-
‘How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?!’ Cosima whispered in a firm and angry voice. ‘I didn’t know that she would be picking up on it! We’ve been teaching her the alphabet and the basics a lot more I thought she’d get a hold of those first!’
‘I knew I should have been the one to take maternity leave. If I’d have stayed at home she’d be speaking two languages instead of filth!’ Delphine was whispering back too, but couldn’t help raising her voice a few decibels the angrier she got.
Their arguing was interrupted by a sharp, high-pitched cry from their daughter. They’d only been in the bedroom for a matter of minutes, but Emily had heard the fighting.
‘I’m sorry ma Cherie’ Delphine cooed as she scurried into the room, kneeling in front of her daughter to pull her out of the walker. ‘Maman is here’
‘Yeah, mummy’s here too Em. Don’t worry everything is fine.’
At the sight and feel of her mothers, Emily calmed. Delphine bounced her up and down as Cosima sang her a soft lullaby. The pair walked the small child to her bedroom, Cosima still singing away as Delphine slowed down her bouncing and placed Emily in her cot.
‘Sweet dreams angel.’ Cosima cooed.
‘We love you.’
The women started for the living room, having almost forgotten about the fight a few minutes previous.
‘Bon nuit, maman.’ The French was babbled out, almost unrecognizable, but Delphine knew it straight away. The blonde woman tightened again, this time in shock and disbelief rather than anger. It was always Delphine who put her to bed, because she didnt spend much time with Emily in the day and Delphine used that time to teach her little phrases of French. She had always tried before, almost getting there but mainly saying jargon.
This time, however, Delphine was certain that her baby daughter had just spoken her first French words.