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1.
Adele entered her kitchen one morning, about two years into her marriage, to find her husband leaning against the wall, slowly drinking a cup of coffee, and calmly watching his kwami dart around the giant room erratically. He handed his wife a cup as she entered, not taking his eyes off the small blue figure. Adele leaned against him gently.
“What’s she’s excited about this time?” Rajji was occasionally letting out joyful chirps, and she darted over to hug Adele’s nose briefly before returning to her erratic circuit around the room.
“I haven't the faintest idea,” Gabriel replied. They watched her silently for a minute, and she gave no sign of letting up any time soon.
“You know, I don't think I've seen her this happy since you proposed,” Adele finally said. “Nooroo?”
“Yes?” Her kwami flew out of her pocket and hovered in front of her face.
“Any idea what brought on all this?”
Nooroo turned around and watched Rajji for a moment. “If I had to guess, I'd say she’s just happy about the baby,” he finally replied.
Gabriel and Adele looked at each other, then at Nooroo. Finally, Adele spoke. “What baby?”
“Yours, of course.”
“Nooroo, I don't have a baby."
“Well not yet, obviously, but you're going to.”
“Since when?"
Nooroo looked at her, confused. “I'm not precisely aware, but I'd estimate since about eight hours ago?” Adele turned bright red as Gabriel started coughing uncontrollably.
2.
The chief of police straightened up her desk for the fifth time that morning. Butterfly and Paon had never before called and made an appointment in advance to speak with either her or her predecessor, and waiting for them to show up was proving to be more nerve-wracking than she’d expected. She’d been chief for two years now, and on the force since before Butterfly first appeared, and in all that time she’d never known the two heroes to appear together for meetings, press conferences or interviews.
Finally, they arrived. Quite suddenly, actually.
“Sorry,” Butterfly said sheepishly as the chief began retrieving all the pens that she'd knocked over when they’d appeared, quite literally, out of thin air.
“What, um-” the chief did her best to regain some of her dignity, “what was the matter you needed to discuss? Some threat you need the department’s assistance with?” Things had quieted down considerably since the two had appeared five years ago, but they still contacted the police force with warnings or requests on occasion. Usually, though, it was a lot more in the moment.
“Oh, no, no, nothing like that,” Butterfly said quickly. “It's not a big deal at all, it-well, it is a big deal, I don't mean that, but it's not something to worry about, it's good-well, no, not good from your perspective, I guess-”
Paon put a hand on Butterfly’s shoulder, cutting her off. “We’re retiring,” he said simply.
“Oh! Well, then. I suppose I can't say I'm too surprised. We’ll miss you, of course-”
“And we’ll still be available in an hour of true need,” Butterfly interrupted. “You’ll still be able to contact us, but we need to take a step away from active duty, so to speak."
“May I ask why?”
Butterfly and Paon exchanged a look. “We’d prefer to avoid sharing any identifying information,” Paon said. “I'm sure you understand.”
“Of course. And when will this retirement begin?”
“One month,” Paon said, just as Butterfly said, “Six months.” They looked at each other, startled.
“You’re retiring in a month,” Paon said, as though there was no possibility of disagreement.
“No, I'm not,” Butterfly said, the irritation in her voice growing quickly.
Paon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please be rational.”
“I'm the one with the doctor on her side, you're the one being overprotective and paranoid.”
“The doctor never said anything about-”
“She said there was no reason I shouldn't keep doing all my normal activities right up until-”
“I was at that appointment, darling, I'm fairly certain you failed to mention that “normal activities” for you includes running all over the roofs of Paris and beating up criminals. You don't honestly think the doctor wants you getting into street fights when you’re eight months along?”
“Please, I'm basically indestructible in this form, if anything the baby’s probably safer when I'm fighting villains as Butterfly than when I'm walking down a staircase at home or driving the car around as-” Butterfly caught herself, and looked back at the chief, who was staring speechlessly at the two of them. She wasn't sure what was most surprising: that Paris’ two superheroes were together romantically, that they were having a baby, or that when they weren't in the middle of a crisis they were evidently incapable of going longer than two minutes without fighting. It was suddenly very clear to the chief why these two never attended public functions together.
“Um...congratulations?” the chief finally said hesitantly.
“Thank you,” the two superheroes said in unison. Butterfly looked back at her husband and sighed.
“I will retire in three months. Happy?”
Paon kissed the top of her head in response. “Ecstatic,” he said.
3.
“What are you reading?” Gabriel asked, entering their bedroom to find his wife splayed on the giant bed, flipping through a book.
“Trying to pick out baby names,” she replied, distracted. She picked up a pencil and made a mark next to one. “I’ll try to narrow it down to top twenty lists for either gender before I drag you into it.”
In response, Gabriel lay down on the bed next to his wife, plucked the book from her hands, and tossed it across the room. She looked at him indignantly and he kissed her nose in response.
“Adrien for a boy,” he said decisively, “and Celine for a girl.”
Adele continued scowling for a moment before this sunk in. Then her face broke out in a wide grin. “Really?”
“Of course.”
“I thought you didn't like naming babies after dead relatives. You said it was morbid.”
“What? When did I say that?”
“Mm…’96? You were telling me how you got your name.”
“Well, I never really appreciated it in my case, that’s true,” he admitted. “But luckily for our unborn child, your parents are actually worth being named after. Besides, they have excellent names.”
Adele wrapped an arm around Gabriel and lay her head on his chest. “I'm glad you think so,” she said.
“I met her once, you know. Your mother.”
“Really? You never told me that.”
“Very briefly. It was the first month of college, she was visiting your brother and he was introducing her to all his friends. Which, at that point, was practically the entire freshman class. I don't think she would have remembered me. I remember her, though. She seemed nice.”
“She was.” Adele sighed. “She would have liked you.”
“Really?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Most people don't.”
“True,” Adele admitted. “But Jonathan and I do, so at this point I'm forced to conclude it’s a genetic defect on our part.”
4.
“What are these?” Gabriel asked, not making any effort to hide his disgust.
“Maternity clothes,” Adele replied. “I know it's a little early, but my wardrobe is already on the tight side, so I figured I might as well-”
“They’re hideous.”
“It was a fairly limited selection, darling. And your company doesn't have a maternity line, so I had to settle for an inferior designer. Tragic, I know."
“Well, we’re developing one starting first thing in the morning, I can tell you that. I had no idea there was such a crisis at hand. You simply cannot wear these.”
“You know,” his wife said calmly, “most men who are married to hormonal pregnant women would tell them that it doesn’t matter what they wear, that they’re beautiful no matter what.”
Gabriel took both of Adele’s hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. “My love,” he said solemnly, “you are the most breathtaking woman in the world, and nothing will ever change that. But if you ever hear me say anything that even vaguely resembles “It doesn’t matter what you wear,” please know that I have been either possessed or replaced by an evil clone.”
“Noted,” Adele said. Gabriel frowned.
“You know, when I say it out loud like that, it actually sounds distressingly plausible. Do we think that could happen?”
Adele shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”
5.
Adele groaned and slammed the fridge shut.
“What’s wrong, love?” Gabriel asked, entering the kitchen.
“Oh, Gabriel, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up this late. I'm just having another weird pregnancy craving.”
“This is why we should have a personal live-in chef.”
“With the kwami flying around all over the place? Sounds like a recipe for disaster.” Adele grinned proudly.
Gabriel yawned. “It is either far too late or far too early for your puns,” he said.
“Go back to sleep, there’s no reason we both have to be awake.”
“What's the craving for?”
“That ice cream I like, the kind with the candy bar pieces in it. But all the stores are closed at this hour, I'm sure.”
Wordlessly, Gabriel left the kitchen. Adele assumed he’d gone back to bed, and she started rooting around the cabinets for some acceptable substitute.
Ten minutes later, Gabriel returned with the ice cream.
“What the… where did you get this?"
Gabriel yawned again. “The store, where else?”
“Did you… did you teleport into a closed store and steal this?”
“I left a note,” he replied defensively. “And enough money to pay for ten of them. I'm sure they won't mind.”
Adele grabbed a spoon and picked up the container. “You know, Gabriel,” she said, looking at it thoughtfully, “this might be the single most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me.”
6.
Adele’s ears perked up at the sound of police sirens in the distance. “What do you suppose that’s about?” she asked eagerly, putting her breakfast down and walking over to the window.
Gabriel calmly turned a page of his newspaper, not looking up. “You’re retired,” he reminded his wife. “You promised.”
“But I'm boooooored,” Adele whined. “And the baby’s bored too, so I am double bored.”
“The baby is not bored.”
“He’s doing somersaults in here. Also, I can sense emotions, remember? He's definitely bored."
“The baby’s neurological synapses are not developed enough yet to feel boredom.”
“Goodness,” Adele said, tilting her ear towards her stomach in an exaggerated fashion, “now the baby’s feeling sad that he has such an inflexible know-it-all for a father. Tough break, baby.”
Gabriel sighed, closed his newspaper, and got up from the table. “I'll get the police scanner,” he said, resigned.
7.
“What's wrong?” Adele asked her husband, coming into his study.
Gabriel looked up from his work. “Nothing at all,” he lied.
“If you don't want to talk about it that's fine, but you know I can tell when you're upset. I could feel it all the way upstairs. That's pretty unusual for you.”
Gabriel put down his pencil carefully, and was silent for a moment. “I don't think I'm going to be a very good father,” he said matter-of-factly.
“What? Gabriel, of course you will be.”
“I'm terrible with children.”
Adele walked over to the desk and wrapped her arms around her husband. “So?” she asked. “You're terrible with adults, too.”
“Yes, I'm aware,” Gabriel said dryly. “I think I've made four different designers cry at this point in my career. Completely unintentionally. I cannot imagine I'll fare much better with an actual child.”
Adele shrugged. “You're not going to treat your son like an employee, are you?”
“I hadn't exactly been planning on it, but-”
“And, okay, sure, granted, you're not great at picking up on emotional cues. But I'm basically a cheat sheet for that stuff, I'll be around to make sure you don't do any permanent damage.”
Gabriel sighed. “Promise?”
Adele kissed the top of her husband’s head. “I promise.”
8.
“So my back’s been killing me for about a week now; the doctor said that wasn't unusual but I thought I'd check with you and make sure there wasn't anything wrong that the doctor wouldn't be able to detect. You know, nothing weird with magic or my chi or whatever.”
Mr. Fu placed a hand on Adele’s back, closed his eyes, and concentrated. “Your “chi or whatever,” as you put it, is perfectly fine,” he said after a moment. “The discomfort is of an entirely mundane origin."
“Oh. Well, that's good I guess. I was kind of hoping it was something you could fix magically, though.”
“Perhaps I still can,” the Guardian replied, gesturing to the mat in the middle of the room. “Lie down."
“I'm going to need help getting up again,” Adele said, lowering herself to the floor slowly as Mr. Fu pulled out a small gong from a side cabinet. Adele looked at it skeptically. “That actually does something?”
“Lie back and close your eyes, please.” Adele complied without any more objections. The Guardian began chanting softly, and Adele could hear him tapping the gong, alternating between her head and the baby. Within two minutes, she’d fallen asleep. The next thing she knew, Mr. Fu was gently shaking her awake and her back felt great.
“Sorry,” Adele said, “lately I can nap just about anywhere.” Mr. Fu helped her to her feet.
“Better?” he asked. Adele nodded emphatically. “Well, be sure to come back if the pain returns,” he said as he walked her to the door. She was halfway out when she thought of something.
“Can you… you know, feel the baby?” she asked. “His energy?”
The Guardian smiled. “Oh, yes,” he said. “He has a very strong spirit. Like his mother.”
Adele grinned. “Of course,” he continued, “it's far too early to tell which Miraculous he might be suited for, but-"
“I'm sorry,” Adele interrupted, “but did you say ‘which’?”
“It's possible he wouldn't be suited to any of them, but unlikely. He has a very good energy. Are you displeased?”
Adele shook her head. “Not at all, I'm just… surprised, I suppose. I never really thought about it.” Adele put a hand on her belly and imagined her son one day defending Paris. She smiled.
9.
“Okay, don't freak out or anything.”
“That is easily the worst way you have ever begun a phone call. And that includes the time you called me screaming ‘Hellhounds, hellhounds, oh my God hellhounds, get over here right now they’re everywhere’ and hung up.”
“That's just an example of me being an efficient commun-” Adele stopped talking suddenly.
“Adele? Adele?”
“-icator, Gabriel,” she finished about thirty seconds later, sounding oddly strained.
“What was that?”
“Well… okay, look, I remembered that I'd left something at my parents’ place in the country, something I need for the baby. And I didn't have any plans all day, and you said you were going to be working late anyway, so I decided to go get it.” Gabriel took a moment to absorb this.
“That is a three hour drive, Adele,” he said.
“Yes, yes it is,” she agreed.
“You’re due in less than two weeks, the doctor said the baby could come any day now. You're not supposed to be taking three hour trips by yourself, particularly not to unoccupied houses in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yeah. Funny story about that.”
“...No.”
“Yep.”
“So that pause was a contraction?”
“Mm hmm. But look, they're still over fifteen minutes apart and my water hasn't broken or anything, so there's still plenty of time for me to get back to Paris.”
“You're at the manor now?”
“No, I'm on my way back, about two hours away.”
“You’re driving?”
“It’s fine, don't worry about it. I just need you to-” Adele stopped talking, as her husband had hung up on her. Muttering a few colorful insults under her breath, she tossed her cell phone back into her purse, grabbed the purse off the seat, threw it in the back, and braced herself. About a minute later, Paon appeared in the passenger seat. Even though she'd been expecting it, Adele still jumped.
“Jesus, you scared me. Do you want me to have the baby right now? Here?”
“Pull the car over, Adele,” Gabriel said, dropping his transformation.
“This is a terrible place to pull over. There’s a rest stop in ten kilometers, I'll stop there.”
“Aah, I'm so excited!” A small blue figure flew in front of Adele’s face and nuzzled her cheek.
“Rajji!” Adele waved a hand in front of her face. “I'm driving, we talked about this.”
“I cannot believe you’re driving,” Gabriel said with exasperation as he grabbed his kwami off his wife.
“I told her not to,” Nooroo said from the dashboard.
“Nooroo, you traitor.”
“Here. Pull over here,” Gabriel demanded, pointing to a place where the road’s shoulder widened.
Rolling her eyes, Adele obeyed. “I'm going to get hit by a car, getting out here.”
“That is unlikely. The odds of you killing us all because for some reason you insist on operating a motor vehicle at 100 kilometers an hour while mid-labor is far greater.”
Adele put the car in park. “Don't be ridiculous,” she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. “A car crash wouldn't kill the kwami.”
A minute later they were back on the road, the car now being safely driven by Gabriel. “Out of curiosity,” he asked, “what was so important that driving six hours by yourself seemed reasonable?”
In response, Adele reached into the back seat and grabbed a bundle. “This is the blanket my parents brought me home in when I was born,” she said softly. “My mother knitted it. I wanted to make it a tradition.”
Gabriel’s face, which had been wearing an expression of extreme annoyance since he’d arrived, finally softened. “Ah,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.
Adele grinned at her husband. “Gabriel,” she said, “very soon, we’ll be bringing our son home.”
~~~
“I can't believe he’s asleep,” Adele whispered, looking down at the infant nestled in her arms.
“He’s had a big day,” Gabriel said, his arm around his wife as they lay in the hospital bed together.
“Did you ever think you could love anything so much? I know it's a cliche, but I feel completely blindsided all the same.”
“No.” Gabriel paused. “I never thought I could feel so terrified, either.”
“Terrified?”
“He’s so small and helpless.”
“Well, babies usually come that way, dear.”
“What if something happens to him?”
“With two superheroes for parents? No, he’ll be the safest kid in Paris.” Adele kissed her husband on the cheek. “This is our next great adventure, Gabriel.”
“That it is,” he agreed. “The most important one yet.”
“And like all the others we’ve had, it's going to be great.” She looked back at her son, her Adrien. “Because just like all the others, we’ll be on it together.”