Work Text:
Nobody warned Daniela that recovery would eventually lead to something even more humiliating than childbirth.
Energy returning.
Desire returning.
And Megan Skiendiel acting like she had been personally resurrected by the concept of “touching her girlfriend again.”
Indigo—because Megan had insisted on a name that sounded like “an indie film about grief and ocean metaphors”—was asleep in the bassinet beside the bed.
Indie, as everyone quickly started calling her, made soft little noises in her sleep like she was critiquing the universe.
The apartment was quiet for once.
Which should have been suspicious.
Sophia was out.
Indie was finally down.
And Megan had been looking at Daniela for the past twenty minutes like she was trying to start a fire using eye contact alone.
Daniela noticed.
Obviously.
“You’re doing that thing,” Daniela said.
Megan didn’t look away.
“What thing?”
“The staring like you’re about to write poetry about me again.”
“I don’t write poetry.”
“You texted me ‘you are like sunlight but in a way that feels emotionally expensive.’”
Megan paused.
“That was one time.”
Daniela smiled.
Megan shifted closer on the bed.
Careful.
Slow.
Like she was afraid the moment would break if she moved too fast.
Indie stirred slightly in the bassinet.
Both of them froze instantly.
Silence.
Then Indie settled again.
Megan exhaled.
“She’s a light sleeper,” Megan whispered.
“She’s a newborn.”
“She’s advanced.”
Daniela snorted quietly and tugged Megan closer by the hoodie.
“Come here.”
Megan didn’t hesitate.
That was the thing now.
No hesitation anymore.
Just… instinct.
Their mouths met slowly at first.
Soft.
Familiar in a way that still made Daniela’s chest feel warm.
Megan’s hand slid carefully to Daniela’s waist like she already knew exactly where to go.
Daniela pulled her closer.
A little laugh escaped Megan against her lips.
“What?” Daniela murmured.
“I forgot what this feels like.”
“Pathetic.”
“You’re worse than me.”
Daniela kissed her again to shut her up.
It worked.
For approximately thirty seconds.
Then Indie made a tiny noise.
Not even crying.
Just a sound.
Both of them froze again.
Megan pulled back slowly.
“She’s awake.”
“She is not awake.”
“That was an awake sound.”
Daniela stared at the bassinet.
Indie was definitely still asleep.
Megan looked personally betrayed by biology.
“We’re cursed,” Megan whispered.
Daniela laughed quietly.
“No, we’re just parents.”
“That’s worse.”
They tried again.
Megan kissed her jaw this time.
Slower now.
More confident.
Daniela tilted her head back slightly, breathing unevenly as Megan’s hand slid under her shirt carefully.
Nothing rushed.
Everything careful.
Like they were relearning each other.
Daniela tugged lightly at Megan’s hoodie again.
Megan made a soft sound against her neck.
And then—
A sudden cry.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Indie.
Both of them groaned at the same time.
“No,” Megan whispered.
“No,” Daniela echoed.
Indie’s crying escalated instantly like she had been waiting for the exact moment of maximum emotional inconvenience.
Megan sat up immediately, hair a mess.
“I’ve got her.”
Daniela flopped back onto the pillow dramatically.
“She has timing.”
“She has hatred,” Megan corrected.
Megan got out of bed and went to the bassinet, lifting Indie carefully.
The crying softened instantly the second Megan picked her up.
Which, honestly, was suspicious at this point.
Daniela propped herself up on her elbows.
“She’s doing it on purpose.”
Megan rocked Indie gently.
“She’s not doing anything on purpose.”
Indie stared at Megan with wide eyes.
Megan softened instantly.
“Hi,” she whispered.
Daniela pointed from the bed.
“Look at her. She’s smug.”
“She’s a baby.”
“She knows.”
Megan turned slightly so Daniela could see Indie better.
Indie made a small sound and grabbed Megan’s finger.
Daniela sighed.
“…Okay she’s cute.”
Megan smiled.
“She always wins you over.”
“Barely.”
A soft knock sounded at the bedroom door.
Both of them froze again.
Of course.
Sophia opened the door anyway without waiting.
“Why is the baby crying like she’s paying rent—”
She stopped.
Looked at them.
Looked at the bed.
Looked at Megan holding Indie.
Paused.
“…Oh my God. Were you about to—”
“NO,” Daniela and Megan said in perfect unison.
Sophia squinted.
“You were.”
“We were not.”
“You were definitely about to.”
Megan pointed at Indie like she was evidence in court.
“The baby woke up.”
Sophia looked at Indie.
Indie blinked calmly.
Sophia nodded slowly.
“Right. Sure. The baby.”
Daniela buried her face in a pillow.
“Get out.”
Sophia backed away slowly.
“I live here.”
“GET OUT RESPECTFULLY.”
Sophia left, still laughing.
“Carry on your extremely interrupted life choices!”
Door closed.
Silence again.
Megan stood there holding Indie, who had stopped crying and was now just staring around the room like she was considering philosophy.
Daniela looked over at them both.
“Come back to bed,” she said softly.
Megan hesitated.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
Megan carefully placed Indie back into the bassinet.
Indie immediately yawned.
Like she had successfully disrupted peace and could now rest again.
Megan climbed back into bed.
This time slower.
More cautious.
Daniela reached for her immediately, pulling her in.
“You’re distracted,” Daniela murmured.
“I’m not.”
“You are thinking about her.”
Megan paused.
“…She’s literally right there.”
Daniela laughed.
“You’re obsessed.”
Megan kissed her forehead.
“Maybe.”
Daniela smiled softly and pulled her closer again.
This time quieter.
Slower.
No rush.
Megan’s hand slid to Daniela’s waist again, more certain now, like she was choosing this moment carefully.
Daniela exhaled softly against her mouth.
For a few minutes, it worked.
Just them.
Warm.
Close.
The world shrinking down to something simple again.
Then—
A tiny whimper from the bassinet.
Both froze.
Megan groaned into Daniela’s shoulder.
“No.”
Daniela laughed.
“She’s trolling us.”
Megan pulled back, defeated.
“I can’t compete with her.”
“You’re losing to a three-week-old.”
“She has experience.”
Indie gave a small satisfied sound from the bassinet, like she agreed.
And Megan just stared at her.
Then at Daniela.
Then sighed dramatically.
“I love her,” Megan admitted.
Daniela kissed her cheek.
“I know.”
A beat.
Then Megan added:
“But I also want five minutes of uninterrupted kissing.”
Daniela smiled.
“Same.”
From the bassinet, Indie sneezed.
Perfectly on cue.
Both of them broke into laughter.
And Megan flopped back onto the bed.
“We are never having sex again.”
Daniela rolled onto her side facing her.
“We will.”
Megan raised an eyebrow.
“When?”
Daniela looked toward the bassinet.
Then back at Megan.
“Eventually.”
Indie made a tiny sleepy noise like she approved of the schedule.
And somewhere between exhaustion, laughter, and the quiet chaos of their new life, Megan pulled Daniela in again.
Slower this time.
Careful.
Like they were learning how to exist in pieces and still find each other in the middle of it.
____
Sophia did not announce it like a normal person.
She announced it like a legal ruling.
“I am taking the baby.”
Daniela looked up from the couch.
“…What?”
Sophia was already putting on shoes.
“For two hours.”
Megan, mid-bottle-prep, froze.
“You’re what?”
Sophia pointed at both of them.
“You two look like emotionally neglected raccoons. I am solving the problem.”
Daniela slowly sat up.
“You are volunteering?”
“I am being forced by the visual horror of your lives.”
Indie let out a small noise from her bouncer like she supported Sophia’s decision.
Megan blinked.
“You don’t even like babysitting.”
“I like silence more than I dislike babysitting.”
That was somehow convincing.
Sophia grabbed Indie with practiced efficiency, adjusting the tiny blanket like she’d done it a hundred times.
Indie immediately stopped fussing and stared at her like she was acceptable staffing.
Megan looked personally offended.
“She likes you.”
“She respects competence,” Sophia replied.
Daniela sat up fully now.
“You’re actually taking her?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re not going to text us every five minutes?”
“I will text you exactly once if she starts floating or speaking Latin.”
Then she paused.
“…Actually maybe twice.”
Megan stared at her.
Sophia walked toward the door.
“Two hours,” she repeated. “Do not waste them doing anything stupid.”
Daniela and Megan exchanged a look.
Neither of them said anything.
Sophia left.
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Then Megan turned slowly toward Daniela.
Daniela turned slowly toward Megan.
And the realization hit them at exactly the same time.
Megan whispered, “Oh.”
Daniela whispered back, “Oh.”
From somewhere down the hall, Sophia could still be heard faintly.
“I AM STILL NEARBY, DON’T BE WEIRD.”
Then she was gone.
Actual silence this time.
Not baby-silence.
Not interruption-silence.
Real silence.
Daniela stood up slowly.
Megan didn’t move.
“I feel like we’re supposed to do something with this,” Daniela said.
Megan nodded once.
“Yes.”
They both stared at the bedroom door like it might change its mind.
Then Megan exhaled.
“I miss you,” she said quietly.
Daniela’s expression softened immediately.
“You see me every day.”
“I mean like this,” Megan said, stepping closer.
Daniela met her halfway.
And this time there was no bassinet between them.
No waiting.
No listening for tiny noises.
No hovering anxiety.
Just space.
Megan kissed her first.
Careful at first, like she still didn’t fully believe this was allowed.
Daniela kissed back immediately.
More certain.
More grounded.
Megan’s hands found her waist like muscle memory.
Daniela tugged her closer by the hoodie again, same gesture as always, like a trigger that meant come here, now.
Megan made a soft sound into her mouth.
“That sound is illegal,” Daniela murmured.
Megan huffed a quiet laugh.
“You started it.”
“Good.”
The kiss deepened slowly.
Not rushed.
Not chaotic.
Just steady, like they were finally allowed to breathe in the same rhythm again.
Megan’s forehead rested briefly against Daniela’s.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
Daniela nodded.
“Yeah.”
A pause.
Then Daniela added, quieter:
“I forgot what it feels like to not be interrupted.”
Megan smiled.
“Same.”
They moved toward the bedroom together without breaking contact.
Not frantic.
Not clumsy.
Just close.
Like gravity had finally been allowed to do its job.
The door closed behind them.
And for a moment, everything felt like it had before the baby.
Except not really.
Because nothing was like before anymore.
It was better in a quieter way.
More real.
Megan sat on the edge of the bed first, pulling Daniela with her.
Their hands stayed connected like neither of them wanted to test separation again.
Megan looked at her for a long second.
“You sure?” she asked again.
Daniela rolled her eyes gently.
“You always ask that.”
“I know.”
“I’m not fragile, Megan.”
Megan nodded.
“I know.”
But she still waited.
Daniela softened.
Then she leaned in and kissed her again.
Answer enough.
Megan exhaled like something had finally unclenched in her chest.
They kissed slowly.
Clothes becoming less important.
Time becoming less important.
Everything narrowing down again.
Daniela’s hands slid into Megan’s hair.
Megan pulled her closer by the waist again, like she couldn’t stop herself from holding on.
A quiet laugh escaped Daniela against her mouth.
“What?” Megan murmured.
“You look relieved.”
“I am.”
Daniela smiled.
“Good.”
Megan kissed her again.
Longer this time.
Slower.
Like they had been waiting too long for this exact quiet.
Minutes passed.
Maybe more.
Neither of them were counting.
Until—
A phone buzzed loudly from the living room.
Both froze instantly.
Daniela groaned into Megan’s shoulder.
Megan closed her eyes.
“No.”
Another buzz.
Then another.
Megan reluctantly pulled back.
“That’s Sophia.”
Daniela buried her face in her hands.
“She promised.”
Megan stood up slowly and went to check the phone.
Daniela followed.
On the screen:
SOPHIA: she sneezed and looked offended by existence
SOPHIA: also she is fine
SOPHIA: just letting you know i am not lying about competence
Megan stared at it.
Daniela leaned over her shoulder.
“…She interrupted us for a status report.”
Megan nodded.
“Yes.”
Daniela exhaled.
“…We’re going to kill her.”
Megan hesitated.
“…After two hours?”
Daniela looked at her.
Megan looked back.
Then they both started laughing.
Because it was ridiculous.
Because it was their life.
Because even when they finally got space, the world still had them on a schedule.
Megan set the phone down.
“You want to try again?” she asked softly.
Daniela looked at her.
Then nodded.
“Yeah.”
They went back to the bedroom.
Slower this time.
More patient.
Less desperate.
And when they kissed again, it didn’t feel like something stolen anymore.
It felt like something earned.