So, I think that BBB broke my brain
Yesterday, I officially finished my Brendon/Shane not!hooker fic for BBB and it broke my brain, because it was supposed to be funny, but then it was like "maybe I should really deal with the psychological affects of family abandonment and desperation that leads one to believe that selling their body is the only way out." And then it stopped being funny.
So, apparently, as a healing process, my brain wanted to write bb!Emma fic.
Title: She's On Her Way
Author: battie_hattie
Rating: PG-13, because despite the baby, they still curse.
Pairing: Officially Cash/Singer, but it's really about the baby.
POV: 3rd, Marshall
Summary: Emma is a little toddler now, and The Cab are preparing for their new album release by doing a mini-tour. ~1,800 words, probably going to be part of either a series of codas, or a second part of the 'verse.
Disclaimer: Yeah, no. Cash never had a baby with Singer because that's unnatural.
Author Notes: Set after Feeling Lucky Today (Got The Sunshine)
Marshall likes Emma a lot more now that she can talk to him and is more like a person. It's not like he didn't like her when she was a tiny, football sized infant. He did. She was adorable, and he loved to hold her and sing to her and play her little tunes on the piano. As long as she wasn't crying, or puking, or wetting herself. That's when he would just pass her off to Cash or Singer and then suddenly have some sort of emergency. Usually related to Twitter.
But once Emma became like a little person, a little person that despite her douchey Papa and overactive Daddy, was actually pretty awesome, Marshall liked to spend time with her. He didn't mind when Cash and Singer asked him to take her some place, just for a little bit, so they could have alone time. Actually, he kind of coveted it. He knew they didn't let Ian have alone time with Emma. Which, even Ian agreed was probably for the best.
This time, he was getting to take little Emma into the Circle K while Cash filled up the gas tank and Singer slept in the back. They were going to have a bus, when they toured for the album, but they were doing a short little pre-release tour of California and Arizona in a van, which Emma seemed to like a lot.
“Come on, Emma,” Marshall says, opening the door and giving her little toddler bottom a scootch. It also was a quick way to check to see if she was wet. Thankfully, she wasn't.
Emma toddles in and immediately makes her way to the brightly colored candy aisle. “That,” she says pointing. “Pop pop!” and she claps her hands.
Marshall rolls his eyes, but grabs the purple bag of Tinglerz, and then gets a second for Singer, because he doesn't want him accidentally eating all of Emma's candy. “What else?” he asks.
She points again, this time at gum, which Marshall tells her no. Her face squinches up and she looks like she's about to cry, so Marshall grabs the closest thing he can find, which happens to be a Ring Pop. “Look, pretty ring for the pretty princess.” And that seems to distract her enough from actually crying and Marshall is pretty excited about the prospect of Emma sucking on her hand all day getting sticky red candy over everything she touches. As long as what she touches belongs to Cash.
“Pull!” Emma cries, taking an apple from the end of an aisle. It's always weird when gas stations have fresh produce, but he's eaten bananas from there and there's nothing weird looking about the apple, so he assumes it'll be fine for her to eat. She's also clutching the apple to her chest like she does her Dada bear, so Marshall knows he's not getting that apple away from her any time soon.
“OK, drinks for Marsh,” Marshall says, maneuvering her to the wall of beverages. He grabs a large Naked Juice for himself, and figures that he'll just remind Emma that she has juice boxes in the van.
“Want,” Emma demands.
“Honey, this is too much juice for you.”
“Want Marsh juice!” she says again. “Marsh juice!”
He knows that he shouldn't just give into her, but that's parents jobs and he's the cool uncle. Cool uncles get to give into the demands of small children, only, he knows that giving her that much blended fruit is going to have them stopping to throw out soiled diapers every 15 minutes. “Um.” He sort of floundering until he notices a little bottle of Naked Juice on the bottom. “Emma size,” he says, pulling it out. “Tiny Emma size.”
Emma looks like she wants to take the juice from him, but her tiny hands aren't big enough for the bottle and the apple and the apple wins as she trots to the cashier. “Pull,” she says to the lady behind the counter.
“She's the most precious thing ever,” the woman tells him.
Marshall smiles. “Thanks,” he says, putting his things on the counter. He thinks about maybe picking up some things for the guys, but he's got his hands full and a toddler to watch. Cash can get stuff for him and Alex after the gas is pumped, and Johnson and Ian can do it after they smoke.
“Papa!” Emma screeches when Cash comes in.
“Nugget!” he says, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her belly. “What have you got there?”
“Pull,” she says. “Want?”
“No baby, that's for you, Papa can get his own apple if he wants one.”
“Bite pull,” she tells him, holding the apple up, and Cash takes a little bite out of it.
“Nom,” he says, and then he looks at Marshall. “She can't bite through the skin unless I help her get started.”
Marshall never ceases to be amazed at how good Cash and Singer are with her. Because, really, all things considered, Emma's a happy baby, and thank god, she got Singer's brains. He passes the money to the woman and takes his bag. “You want me to take her back to the van while you get some stuff.”
“Yeah.” He kisses Emma again. “You gonna be a good girl and go with Marsh? Papa has to go potty. Are you wet?”
Emma shakes her head. “No wet.”
“Good.” He passes her off to Marshall. “See you in the van.”
Emma nibbles her apple as Marshall carries her to the van, carefully placing her on the seat. She should be in her carseat, but they're not moving yet, so Marshall thinks it's OK. And it's getting kind of late in the afternoon, and he figures that maybe she'll want to climb into the back with Singer and take a nap.
“Done,” she says, holding out the barely eaten apple. “Loli?”
Marshall pulls out the Ring Pop and puts it on her tiny finger where it slides a little to the side, and looks like she won't be able to hold it up, but she does, and she smiles and laughs. She tries to get the whole thing into her mouth, but it doesn't fit and she ends up drooling on it. “Where Daddy?”
“Daddy's in the back,” Marshall says, checking to make sure there's still enough ice in the cooler. “Daddy's having naps. Is it time for Emma's nap?”
“No,” she says firmly. “No nap. Gonna see Daddy.”
She crawls over the seat and Marshall watches to make sure she doesn't get the Ring Pop on anything and end up with a mouthful of lint. She tugs at the bear that Singer's sleeping with an then climbs up to look at Marshall hopefully. “Dada bear?”
Marshall panics for a moment, because Dada bear should have been back there with Daddy's bear, and Emma's usually an expert at finding her Dada bear. “Hold on, honey, I'll find it.” And if he doesn't he has absolutely no qualms about waking Singer up and making him deal with the inevitable fit of tears.
He thankfully sees a bit of brown fur crushed in between the bench seat and the window. “Found him.” He passes the bear to hear.
“Spank you,” she says and Marshall does his best not to laugh. Singer had been trying unsuccessfully to get Emma to properly say 'thank you' instead of 'spank you' like Cash thought it would be funny to teach her.
“Daddy, daddy,” she says climbing back into.
She's quiet again, and Marshall assumes she's gone to lay down with Singer and as the guys filter in, he tells them to be quiet because Emma's sleeping with Singer. It's the only time they really actually are quiet, because if it's just Singer sleeping in the back, they don't care if they wake him up.
“Alright, Daddy and Princess are in the back and we're ready to go,” Cash says, buckling up in the front seat.
“You do know that referring to Singer as Daddy when Emma is unconscious and you're not actively trying to instill in her that he's Daddy is just kind of creepy, right?” Marshall says.
“If Emma calls him Singer one more time, I think he might actually lose his shit, OK? So, I'm just in the habit. Also, whatever, I hate you.”
They're just about to get onto the highway when they hear Singer's “What the fuck?” followed by Emma's high pitched scream.
“Princess?” Cash calls as he tries to calmly pull them to the shoulder, which is not so much calm as it is terrifying.
Marshall flings himself over the backseat scooping Emma up and pulling her against his chest. “What the fuck, Singer?”
Alex draws himself up, looking terrified with a red smudge of candy running from his eyebrow to his cheek and Emma's ring pop tangled in his hair. “Daddy's sorry, Princess,” he says reaching out for her.
Emma screams louder, and Marshall's pretty sure his hearing is damaged for life when she lets out a terrifying screech of “Papa!” as loud as her little lungs will let her through the constant sobs.
The side door slides open and Cash reaches for her. “Shh, darling, shhh,” he coos, holding her close to his shoulder. “Papa's here, it's OK.”
She continues to cry, but it's more heaving sobs then piercing screams and Singer just looks completely crushed. “I didn't mean it,” he says. “I was just sleeping, and like, there was.” He reaches up and touches his face. “It scared me, I think I hit her. Why wasn't anyone watching her?”
Marshall opens his mouth to say something, but he can't, he just picks up Dada bear and hands it to him. “Here, try to get her to take this from you.”
“Jesus,” Johnson says, pressing his fingers to his eardrums. “She's got Singer's lung capacity, that's for sure.”
“I guess I'm driving,” Ian says, sliding from the passenger seat to the drivers. “You know, once she calms a little.”
They rearrange themselves so that Singer, Cash and Emma can have a full bench seat to themselves, but Emma still won't even look at her Daddy.
“Princess, Daddy's sorry,” Alex says. Marshall can't take it anymore, and he reaches across the seats and pulls the Ring Pop out of Singer's hair and tosses the box of Emma's Wet Naps at him. “Thanks,” Alex says, even though the box caught him off guard and hit him in the shoulder.
“Daddy mad,” Emma says through her lingering cries which are slowly turning into hiccups.
“Daddy not mad,” Alex says gently. “You gave Daddy a boo, and Daddy got scared.”
“Oh.” She hiccups softly against Cash's shoulder. “Sorry.”
“Here,” Alex says, scooting closer. “You want your bear?”
She nods into Cash's chest, eyelids drooping. She clutches the bear close before falling asleep.
So, apparently, as a healing process, my brain wanted to write bb!Emma fic.
Title: She's On Her Way
Author: battie_hattie
Rating: PG-13, because despite the baby, they still curse.
Pairing: Officially Cash/Singer, but it's really about the baby.
POV: 3rd, Marshall
Summary: Emma is a little toddler now, and The Cab are preparing for their new album release by doing a mini-tour. ~1,800 words, probably going to be part of either a series of codas, or a second part of the 'verse.
Disclaimer: Yeah, no. Cash never had a baby with Singer because that's unnatural.
Author Notes: Set after Feeling Lucky Today (Got The Sunshine)
Marshall likes Emma a lot more now that she can talk to him and is more like a person. It's not like he didn't like her when she was a tiny, football sized infant. He did. She was adorable, and he loved to hold her and sing to her and play her little tunes on the piano. As long as she wasn't crying, or puking, or wetting herself. That's when he would just pass her off to Cash or Singer and then suddenly have some sort of emergency. Usually related to Twitter.
But once Emma became like a little person, a little person that despite her douchey Papa and overactive Daddy, was actually pretty awesome, Marshall liked to spend time with her. He didn't mind when Cash and Singer asked him to take her some place, just for a little bit, so they could have alone time. Actually, he kind of coveted it. He knew they didn't let Ian have alone time with Emma. Which, even Ian agreed was probably for the best.
This time, he was getting to take little Emma into the Circle K while Cash filled up the gas tank and Singer slept in the back. They were going to have a bus, when they toured for the album, but they were doing a short little pre-release tour of California and Arizona in a van, which Emma seemed to like a lot.
“Come on, Emma,” Marshall says, opening the door and giving her little toddler bottom a scootch. It also was a quick way to check to see if she was wet. Thankfully, she wasn't.
Emma toddles in and immediately makes her way to the brightly colored candy aisle. “That,” she says pointing. “Pop pop!” and she claps her hands.
Marshall rolls his eyes, but grabs the purple bag of Tinglerz, and then gets a second for Singer, because he doesn't want him accidentally eating all of Emma's candy. “What else?” he asks.
She points again, this time at gum, which Marshall tells her no. Her face squinches up and she looks like she's about to cry, so Marshall grabs the closest thing he can find, which happens to be a Ring Pop. “Look, pretty ring for the pretty princess.” And that seems to distract her enough from actually crying and Marshall is pretty excited about the prospect of Emma sucking on her hand all day getting sticky red candy over everything she touches. As long as what she touches belongs to Cash.
“Pull!” Emma cries, taking an apple from the end of an aisle. It's always weird when gas stations have fresh produce, but he's eaten bananas from there and there's nothing weird looking about the apple, so he assumes it'll be fine for her to eat. She's also clutching the apple to her chest like she does her Dada bear, so Marshall knows he's not getting that apple away from her any time soon.
“OK, drinks for Marsh,” Marshall says, maneuvering her to the wall of beverages. He grabs a large Naked Juice for himself, and figures that he'll just remind Emma that she has juice boxes in the van.
“Want,” Emma demands.
“Honey, this is too much juice for you.”
“Want Marsh juice!” she says again. “Marsh juice!”
He knows that he shouldn't just give into her, but that's parents jobs and he's the cool uncle. Cool uncles get to give into the demands of small children, only, he knows that giving her that much blended fruit is going to have them stopping to throw out soiled diapers every 15 minutes. “Um.” He sort of floundering until he notices a little bottle of Naked Juice on the bottom. “Emma size,” he says, pulling it out. “Tiny Emma size.”
Emma looks like she wants to take the juice from him, but her tiny hands aren't big enough for the bottle and the apple and the apple wins as she trots to the cashier. “Pull,” she says to the lady behind the counter.
“She's the most precious thing ever,” the woman tells him.
Marshall smiles. “Thanks,” he says, putting his things on the counter. He thinks about maybe picking up some things for the guys, but he's got his hands full and a toddler to watch. Cash can get stuff for him and Alex after the gas is pumped, and Johnson and Ian can do it after they smoke.
“Papa!” Emma screeches when Cash comes in.
“Nugget!” he says, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her belly. “What have you got there?”
“Pull,” she says. “Want?”
“No baby, that's for you, Papa can get his own apple if he wants one.”
“Bite pull,” she tells him, holding the apple up, and Cash takes a little bite out of it.
“Nom,” he says, and then he looks at Marshall. “She can't bite through the skin unless I help her get started.”
Marshall never ceases to be amazed at how good Cash and Singer are with her. Because, really, all things considered, Emma's a happy baby, and thank god, she got Singer's brains. He passes the money to the woman and takes his bag. “You want me to take her back to the van while you get some stuff.”
“Yeah.” He kisses Emma again. “You gonna be a good girl and go with Marsh? Papa has to go potty. Are you wet?”
Emma shakes her head. “No wet.”
“Good.” He passes her off to Marshall. “See you in the van.”
Emma nibbles her apple as Marshall carries her to the van, carefully placing her on the seat. She should be in her carseat, but they're not moving yet, so Marshall thinks it's OK. And it's getting kind of late in the afternoon, and he figures that maybe she'll want to climb into the back with Singer and take a nap.
“Done,” she says, holding out the barely eaten apple. “Loli?”
Marshall pulls out the Ring Pop and puts it on her tiny finger where it slides a little to the side, and looks like she won't be able to hold it up, but she does, and she smiles and laughs. She tries to get the whole thing into her mouth, but it doesn't fit and she ends up drooling on it. “Where Daddy?”
“Daddy's in the back,” Marshall says, checking to make sure there's still enough ice in the cooler. “Daddy's having naps. Is it time for Emma's nap?”
“No,” she says firmly. “No nap. Gonna see Daddy.”
She crawls over the seat and Marshall watches to make sure she doesn't get the Ring Pop on anything and end up with a mouthful of lint. She tugs at the bear that Singer's sleeping with an then climbs up to look at Marshall hopefully. “Dada bear?”
Marshall panics for a moment, because Dada bear should have been back there with Daddy's bear, and Emma's usually an expert at finding her Dada bear. “Hold on, honey, I'll find it.” And if he doesn't he has absolutely no qualms about waking Singer up and making him deal with the inevitable fit of tears.
He thankfully sees a bit of brown fur crushed in between the bench seat and the window. “Found him.” He passes the bear to hear.
“Spank you,” she says and Marshall does his best not to laugh. Singer had been trying unsuccessfully to get Emma to properly say 'thank you' instead of 'spank you' like Cash thought it would be funny to teach her.
“Daddy, daddy,” she says climbing back into.
She's quiet again, and Marshall assumes she's gone to lay down with Singer and as the guys filter in, he tells them to be quiet because Emma's sleeping with Singer. It's the only time they really actually are quiet, because if it's just Singer sleeping in the back, they don't care if they wake him up.
“Alright, Daddy and Princess are in the back and we're ready to go,” Cash says, buckling up in the front seat.
“You do know that referring to Singer as Daddy when Emma is unconscious and you're not actively trying to instill in her that he's Daddy is just kind of creepy, right?” Marshall says.
“If Emma calls him Singer one more time, I think he might actually lose his shit, OK? So, I'm just in the habit. Also, whatever, I hate you.”
They're just about to get onto the highway when they hear Singer's “What the fuck?” followed by Emma's high pitched scream.
“Princess?” Cash calls as he tries to calmly pull them to the shoulder, which is not so much calm as it is terrifying.
Marshall flings himself over the backseat scooping Emma up and pulling her against his chest. “What the fuck, Singer?”
Alex draws himself up, looking terrified with a red smudge of candy running from his eyebrow to his cheek and Emma's ring pop tangled in his hair. “Daddy's sorry, Princess,” he says reaching out for her.
Emma screams louder, and Marshall's pretty sure his hearing is damaged for life when she lets out a terrifying screech of “Papa!” as loud as her little lungs will let her through the constant sobs.
The side door slides open and Cash reaches for her. “Shh, darling, shhh,” he coos, holding her close to his shoulder. “Papa's here, it's OK.”
She continues to cry, but it's more heaving sobs then piercing screams and Singer just looks completely crushed. “I didn't mean it,” he says. “I was just sleeping, and like, there was.” He reaches up and touches his face. “It scared me, I think I hit her. Why wasn't anyone watching her?”
Marshall opens his mouth to say something, but he can't, he just picks up Dada bear and hands it to him. “Here, try to get her to take this from you.”
“Jesus,” Johnson says, pressing his fingers to his eardrums. “She's got Singer's lung capacity, that's for sure.”
“I guess I'm driving,” Ian says, sliding from the passenger seat to the drivers. “You know, once she calms a little.”
They rearrange themselves so that Singer, Cash and Emma can have a full bench seat to themselves, but Emma still won't even look at her Daddy.
“Princess, Daddy's sorry,” Alex says. Marshall can't take it anymore, and he reaches across the seats and pulls the Ring Pop out of Singer's hair and tosses the box of Emma's Wet Naps at him. “Thanks,” Alex says, even though the box caught him off guard and hit him in the shoulder.
“Daddy mad,” Emma says through her lingering cries which are slowly turning into hiccups.
“Daddy not mad,” Alex says gently. “You gave Daddy a boo, and Daddy got scared.”
“Oh.” She hiccups softly against Cash's shoulder. “Sorry.”
“Here,” Alex says, scooting closer. “You want your bear?”
She nods into Cash's chest, eyelids drooping. She clutches the bear close before falling asleep.