Lost & Found // [Maverick/Topaz oneshot]

life is bigger
it's bigger than you
and you are not me
the lengths that i will go to

The day had been excessively long, exhausting, and filled to the brim with joy. He could barely believe his little girls were seven. He's threatened all day to bronze them, right up until the statues they'd commissioned were revealed. Media and March Miles, forever enshrined in stone and bronze. They would installed in the foyer of their home, immortalized as playful children. He'd been especially pleased with the work; March looked a little more mischievous, Media gazing into the distance. Tears had gathered at the edges of his eyes as his girls - his big girls - climbed up to face their likeness.

They'd stayed up an extra hour after the party ended, high on cake frosting. He couldn't even get them settled enough to read to them. When that failed, he only had one choice: to sing. He sang lullaby after lullaby, mostly ones from when they were very small. Media snored a little, which was finally his cue.

He joined Topaz on the porch. He watched as she gathered the remaining streamers and felt that his energy was wasted by sitting on the porch swing. But he knew if he offered to help, she would level her heavy gaze at him, and then he'd never hear the end of it. So, he waited, listening to the clink of glass being put away by the catering company, to the rustle of streamers and ribbon. One of the caterers came out and offered them tea. He requested two cups of chamomile and then dismissed the help.

Eventually, Topaz came to sit at his side. That was always the way of it: he waited until she was ready, and sometimes even then, he waited. It felt like they had been waiting for years. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, gathering her as close as she would let him. "It was a good day," he murmured. "That's the best birthday party I've ever been to - even better than the President's. I think the girls really enjoyed themselves."

He listened to her recount some of the day's events, smiling contentedly. The swing swayed, lulling them. It was only as the house darkened - the caterers must have finally departed - that Maverick risked it. He brushed her forearm with his free hand, and then gently drew his fingers over her swelling belly. "I asked for the morning off tomorrow, so I could go to the ultrasound with you."

He waited for her to protest. After the last time, she hadn't wanted him at any appointments. It was as though Topaz could carry the guilt and grief all by herself. Maverick knew she could, but he didn't want her to. It had been so long since they'd had anything to hope for. It seemed dangerous to start now, but if Topaz wouldn't, well, he would.

He kissed her temple and rubbed her stomach. It was still too early to feel anything, but he thought maybe - just maybe - he felt a little flutter. "If we have twins again, I hope you don't mind me hoping we have girls. We made such good ones the first time around."

He waited until Topaz led him into their bedroom. He rubbed her back, put a pillow under her hard stomach. He spooned behind her, careful not to put the full weight of his arm on her. Topaz Ross is not fragile, he reminded himself, even though it felt like she was - like this miracle would disappear, like the smoke and mirrors they had experienced the last few years. He sighed into the deep dark night, and whispered to hear, "I can't wait to meet our baby."