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"Are you sure they gave us the right one?" Steve asks for the hundredth time, his eyes looking at Jonathan through the rear mirror before focusing back on the road.
His husband rolls his eyes for the hundredth time as well. If Jonathan had a penny for every time Steve asked, they'd have enough money to buy the second car they've wanted for the past month.
"Yes, Steve, I am sure," Jonathan replies before letting his eyes trail down to the peacefully asleep baby in his arms. All it takes is one look for Jonathan to know it is the right baby. "Yeah, it's the right one. It's our daughter, alright."
Steve hums while stopping at a red light. He turns around to examine the baby in Jonathan's arms. He trusts Jonathan's words, but Steve still wants to be 100% sure. It's better not to take risks.
"Yeah, it's the right one. Phew," Steve breathed a sigh of relief after watching the baby, making Jonathan roll his eyes (again).
"I told you they gave us the right baby, Steve. Do you think the adoption agency would mix the kids?"
"Hey, you can't never be too sure. Have you not heard the news from yesterday? About the Hospital screwing up and mixing two kids and giving them to the wrong parents?"
"That rarely happens, babe," Jonathan argues, carefully adjusting his arms to guarantee the baby is secured and comfortable in his embrace, unable to prevent a small, happy smile from creeping into his lips. It's impossible not to smile at seeing this adorable baby being so, well, adorable. "Besides, this one is our baby."
"Yeah," Steve smiles as well, his right hand gently caressing the baby's cheek. "She is our baby."
Both men smile at seeing their daughter in Jonathan's arms, snuggling closer to him while still asleep. Steve's eyes meet Jonathan's, silently conversing about how beautiful she is and how lucky they are to have her in their lives now. A tender moment that is interrupted by the car behind them honking loudly.
"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, I'M GOING!" Steve yells while sticking his head out the window, showing them the middle finger. "Gee, what a shit-eating fucker—"
"Steve," Jonathan admonishes him. He fears Steve's lack of a baby filter will result in their daughter learning to curse before anything else. "Language, please."
"Sorry, Jon..." Steve silently replies, focusing on the road. "But you saw how that dumbass honked at me, right? What a motherf—"
" Steven ," Jonathan chastises him again, more firmly this time. He eyes the baby for a quick second, wanting to make sure the car honking and Steve's yelling didn't wake her up, but thankfully, the little girl remains asleep, unbothered by the noises from the outside world - gee, she's more of a heavy sleeper than Steve is. Jonathan sighs again before turning to his husband. "Just... Try to control your mouth, okay? Rule number three, remember? Don't—"
"'Don't curse in front of our baby.' Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll keep my sailor mouth in check. Promise." He makes a quick scout's promise hand gesture, making Jonathan chuckle in appreciation and amusement.
Steve turns around a corner, their house now in view. He parks the car in the driveway, turns off the engine, and steps out, opening the door for Jonathan to get out. Jonathan was going to tell Steve to grab the baby's bag, but Steve had other plans in mind. He extends his arms to the baby instead, claiming Jonathan's held for long enough, and now it's his turn. Jonathan was going to complain about not having the baby in his arms anymore, but the sight of Steve gently cradling her in his arms promptly shut him up. Steve opens the front door and enters the house, with Jonathan right behind him, carrying the baby's bag.
"Welcome home, baby! Here is the living room, where we watch funny series and films on the TV. Over there is the dining room. We only use it for fancy dinners with our friends and family. And the room right next to it is the kitchen, where your daddies make food," Steve points to each room he's referencing as if the baby's paying attention and not sleeping like a rock in his arms. "Oh, right, introductions! I'm your daddy Steve, and that handsome man over there is your daddy Jonathan!"
Steve points at himself and Jonathan with his classic Harrington charming smile. Jonathan chuckles at his antics and at being complimented. He approaches his husband and their daughter and gently pats her head, smiling at seeing the baby leaning her head against Steve's chest.
"Let's put her to sleep in her crib, Stevie."
Steve nods at him and heads towards the stairs to the baby's new room, Jonathan right behind him. Steve makes a 360 once entering the baby's nursery, pointing at the yellow-colored walls, plush toys, furniture, and the white crib.
"Alright, baby, this is your room. Your Uncle Will and Uncle Mike helped paint the walls. Your Aunt El picked the curtains, and Grandpa Jim assembled your dresser and changer, but he couldn't build the crib, so we asked your Grandma Joyce for help. And your daddies picked everything and paid for everything, too. So don't you forget that, alright?"
"Are you done showing her every tiny detail of the house, babe?" Jonathan chimes in. His arms crossed, and looking at Steve with a teasing grin and a raised eyebrow, making his husband playfully scoff in response.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm done showing her the house." Steve approaches the white crib and gently places the baby down, tucking her under a soft blanket, while Jonathan grabs a plush bunny from the nearby shelf and puts it next to her, watching with a warm smile as the little girl wraps her tiny arms around it.
"Sweet dreams, baby," Steve says softly, not wanting to wake her up while adjusting the blanket around her, assuring it is not too tight or too loose.
Jonathan watches their baby daughter sound asleep in her crib, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
"Sweet dreams, Elizabeth ."