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She's a little bit infuriating, in the way she can effortlessly challenge him. It reminds him, in a hazy way, of Gwyn, when things were good and new and he still liked the chase.
But she's softer than Gwyn ever was, jagged only at the damaged ends instead of all the way around.
He falls into her easy, so easy. She shoots him that sly grin across the rim of her beer bottle, eyes bright in the smoky bar. His eyebrows go up, and she licks her bottom lip, biting it just for his benefit. It sends a bolt of arousal straight through his stomach. He coughs. She smirks.
Oh hell.
---
She's soft in his arms when he wakes up.
"Good morning, captain Strand," she says from her spot on his chest, nudging sleepily into him.
"Good morning, captain Blake," he grunts down to her, one eye open.
She hides her smile in his skin, ducking under the covers for just five more minutes, please.
He chases after her, and they're 20 minutes late to work.
Judd snickers. TK rolls his eyes. Mateo tries to high-five him, and Marjan gives probie a look and a lecture.
---
She tells him she's pregnant perfunctorily, in a low monotone, and she won't meet his eyes.
He's sitting at his desk, hands folded, and hand to God if he'd been given a million guesses he never would've gotten here.
"You're sure?" He asks, and his stomach is battering the bottom of his esophagus, trying to jump out his mouth.
"Yes." And then, "It's yours."
"Of course," because he never expected otherwise. It occurs to him maybe he should've. But that thought spikes a talon of vicious, unexpected jealousy through his belly and he pushes it aside. He breathes deep. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
"Okay," he exhales, "Okay."
---
Fessing up to the team is probably the second hardest part, after telling TK.
He takes it...well.
"You've gotta be kidding me."
And then,
"Please tell me you're joking."
And then,
"Dad! C'mon, Dad! How many times did you tell me to use condoms?"
And then,
"Have you told mom yet?"
And then,
"You're a dead man, Pops."
And then,
"Did Michelle tell Carlos? He's gonna freak out."
(He does. He absolutely does.)
The team goes a little better. Paul, completely unsurprised.
"Y'all ain't subtle. I noticed you haven't been doing sushi Tuesdays."
Judd, bemused.
"How am I supposed to tell Grace my captain is having a baby before us?"
Mateo, confused.
"Does this mean you're gonna leave?"
Marjan, excited.
"I'm going to be an auntie!"
Nancy and Tim, exchanging side eyed glances, before, in unison,
"Congratulations captain."
Buttercup.
Woof woof!
---
She gets reassigned and he's pretty sure he'd be fired if he wasn't the golden boy. (Deputy chief Radford has quite a few things to say about professionalism and fraternization and decorum.) She takes up at the 112, and they get a no nonsense Latina by the name of Vega to replace her.
It makes sense, but he misses her at the house. He misses sharing a cup of coffee in her office before shift, the weak dawn light streaming through the window lighting up her hair. He misses her steady presence on tough calls, the quiet self assurance she brings to her team that makes them so good. He misses being able to sit up in his bunk after a nightmare and see her sleeping across the aisle, her rhythmic breaths comforting him that she was okay, that everyone was okay.
She ends up living with them, because why wouldn't she. She's carrying his baby. Her baby. Their baby.
She can't drink coffee anymore, so he gives it up too. The grateful kiss she presses to the corner of his mouth over their morning tea almost makes it worth it.
TK gets them all on a whole food, organic diet. He spends more time lecturing them about macronutrients and healthy fats than even Owen can stand. He'd tell him to stop, but he overhears him telling Carlos in a low voice one day, "Gotta make sure the little nugget is healthy" and he keeps his mouth shut.
---
It's Wednesday and he tells Judd he's in charge. Mateo protests, whining as he's shrugging on his jacket, "Where you going, Cap?"
"Michelle has an appointment," he says, palming his keys and trying not to look as nervous as he feels, "I'll be back in a couple hours. Mind your uncle Judd while I'm gone."
Judd snorts and Marjan cracks up. He's glad he can make them laugh, because he feels like he's gonna throw up.
She meets him at the doctor's office, an unassuming brick building near downtown and they walk in together. They sit side by side in the waiting room, her looking at a magazine, him looking at the parade of round bellies marching in and out. He glances at Michelle's flat tummy, and tries to imagine her like that. He can't quite make his brain do it. He smoothes sweaty hands against his jeans and then they call her name.
He sits by her side as the technician squirts the jelly and moves the wand over her stomach. The doctor points to the little black bean on the screen and says, "There's your baby."
"Oh wow," Michelle murmurs, and his hand finds hers and squeezes as tight as his heart in his chest. His eyes are suddenly wet.
There's your baby
"There's our baby," Owen says and it's been 27 years since this strange mix of pride and wonder and love and absolute terror have twisted up in his chest.
"Hey there little guy," Michelle whispers, "We can't wait to meet you."
---
Marjan organizes a baby shower and he's stupidly grateful. No one told him how expensive this stuff had gotten in the last three decades.
They get diapers and wipes and binkies and tiny little outfits. Carlos gets them a tiny sweater with a fire truck on it, and it's so cute it makes Michelle cry. (Everything makes her cry in the second trimester.) TK buys them a smart sock, a tiny pulse oximeter that the baby can wear when they sleep, to monitor their vitals. Owen knows how expensive it must have been, and thanks him with a tight hug.
"Nothing's gonna happen to my baby sister," TK murmurs to him in the hug.
"It could be a boy," Owen says, and TK snorts.
"Call it a gut feeling."
The 252 in New York airmails him a care package with footed pajamas and socks and more diapers. Gwyn sends them a very expensive baby swing. The card is addressed to both of them, but the note inside is for Owen; Don't screw this up
---
"You think you'd be used to this," Judd says, watching him try to wrestle crib slat A into crib joint B. He takes a pull off of his beer and offers no help whatsoever.
"You could definitely help me," Owen says, and Judd shrugs, "Do you know how long it's been since I've done this?"
"Like riding a bike," Judd replies.
"How are the instructions?" Owen calls to TK and Carlos, both huddled into the corner poring over a slim white booklet.
"I speak two languages and I still can't read this," Carlos says, "You're screwed man."
"At least you got five months to figure it out," TK chimes in cheerfully, just as Owen misses the nail with the hammer.
Owen swears, viciously.
"None of that when the baby comes!" TK sing-songs, and Owen swears again.
---
They clear out the guest bedroom for the nursery. TK and Carlos spend an afternoon painting the walls a soft blue. Three YouTube tutorials later and Owen finally knocks together the crib. The changing table and the dresser prove less of a hassle, and the whole firehouse gets together the money and buys them a gliding rocker.
By the time six months rolls around, Michelle's flat tummy has rounded, pushing out against the waists of her pants. When she lays on her back in their bed, Owen can cup the whole of it in two hands. He speaks to their baby between his steepled fingers, whispering all the secrets he can't tell anyone else.
Like how scared he is to do this again. How he's afraid he won't be good enough for the baby. How the cancer could grow back and he might never get to see this little one grow up. How he's too old for this. How he might push away this woman too. How she's become his moon, the one who can pull him to shore like the waves of the tide.
If Michelle hears any of the things he whispers, she doesn't say. She runs her fingers through his hair, and the baby's kicks flutter against his hands, and it's enough, for now.
---
She's what they call 'high risk'. What they call a 'geriatric pregnancy'. (She rages against the term with him constantly, and he doesn't say anything because if she's geriatric he's prehistoric.)
She gets put on desk duty by month five, even though she fights it. But the doctor's orders prevail. She grumbles and grumps and Owen starts making her lunch every day, only her favorites. He swings by on his lunch breaks and they eat together, cramped in her tiny office at the 112. When he leaves, he presses kisses to her temple and says, "I'll see you both at home." Which always makes her smile.
She grumbles less, and he counts that as a win.
---
"I thought firemen were the ones who were supposed to install these," she says it with amusement on her face, arms folded and resting on her enormous belly.
Owen swears as he smacks his head on the roof of the car for the eight hundredth time, flailing to keep his balance on the precarious ledge of the backseat. "It's been awhile since I've done this," he says, shaking the car seat in his hands, trying to untangle the straps again, "I'm a little rusty."
She laughs at him, full throated as she tosses her head back. Owen loses his train of thought as he watches her.
"What?" She asks, smiling at him.
"You're so beautiful," he blurts, "I can't wait for you to have my baby."
"Well, not long now captain Strand," she teases gently, patting her belly.
"I can't wait," he says again, honestly, earnestly. She smiles at him.
"Then you better get that car seat in, or else they won't let us bring them home."
(He gets TK to do it after another 45 minutes of trying.)
(TK gives up after ten, and asks Marjan. She asks Paul after only five, who has good enough sense to get Mateo immediately, who apparently has some practice and gets it on the first try. Judd "supervises".)
---
By eight and a half months, Michelle is enormous. She gets put on maternity leave, and wanders around the house in leggings and Owen's t-shirts, the only things that fit her. Her ankles are swollen, and Owen rubs her feet at night when they're cuddled up on the couch, her belly filling the expanse between them.
"Owen?" She murmurs to him one night, head on his shoulder.
"Hm?"
"I'm never doing this again," she tells him with a groan, "I hate being pregnant."
He chuckles, "I wasn't planning on raising one kid during my golden years," he says, "Let alone two. TK is gonna have to be enough siblings for this little guy."
"Or girl," Michelle mumbles into his neck, her lips against his skin and her eyes heavy with suppressed sleep, "It could be a girl."
"I hope for their sake it's a boy," Owen says, "Because if it's a girl, she's never gonna date until I'm dead."
"Don't be such an old man," Michelle says, "It's the twenty first century."
"I hate to break it to you," Owen replies, "But I am an old man. You once called me an aging sex symbol, remember? TK and Carlos can be the progressive parents. I'm old, Michelle."
"Shut up and take me to bed, old man," she says, and he so does.
---
He's carrying the last two children out of a lightly burning preschool when TK calls him over, waving wildly. He hands them off to Vega and her team, completely unharmed. The look on TK's face has him yanking off his helmet on the run over.
"Dad," TK says breathlessly, holding out his phone, "It's Michelle."
Owen snatches the phone, "Michelle, are you okay? Is the baby okay?"
"Owen, the baby's fine, but it's time."
"What?"
"Owen, it's time."
"Oh," then, "Oh!"
She's chuckling down the line and how can she be so calm when it's time.
He meets TK'S amused eyes over the top of the phone.
Baby time? TK mouths, grinning hugely.
Owen nods dumbly, as Michelle is telling him to get to the hospital.
TK lets out a huge whoop, and turns to yell at the team, "It's baby time!"
They start cheering, and Owen thinks his heart is pounding so hard it might burst.
It's baby time.
---
He makes it the hospital in record time (because Judd insisted on the siren) and he's clutching her hand when the doctor says, "One more big push Michelle! Big, big push!"
She nearly breaks his fingers, grits her teeth, and bears down with all her strength. The doctor is calling to the nurses and everything is loud and bright and bustling, and then a wail splits the room.
"It's a girl," the doctor announces, and then they're draping a warm, wet, bloody thing on Michelle's chest, and he's leaning down to get a better look at it, because that thing is his baby. His daughter.
She's so beautiful, is all he knows in his every fiber, she's perfect.
Michelle is exhausted and she's got tears on her cheeks as she cuddles the scrunch-faced little gremlin on her chest. She's so small, when Michelle's hand presses against her tiny back, it covers it whole. The doctor gets his attention long enough to cut the cord, but he can't stop staring at the most beautiful girl in the whole world.
---
"So are you guys finally gonna tell us the name you picked?" TK is holding his baby sister, all swaddled up in a blanket. The naked adoration on his face keeps Carlos from asking for a turn just yet.
"Eleanor," Michelle says, smiling softly, "We're going to call her Ellie."
"Ellie," TK repeats, brushing a fingertip down one chubby cheek, "Welcome to the family, Ellie Strand."
Owen loops an arm around Michelle's shoulders, presses a kiss into her hair, watching his son and his daughter.
"Thank you, captain Blake," he murmurs into her ear, just to hear her laugh. He kisses the corner of her smile, and she catches his head to kiss him properly.
"Anytime, captain Strand," she whispers into the kiss, "Let's see if we can pry Ellie from TK long enough to meet the rest of the family."
"Wouldn't bet on it. He seems pretty smitten."
"Not the only one, clearly."
"What can I say? We make beautiful kids."
She rolls her eyes, but doesn't disagree. And he's never been happier.