of course! I love those two. Hope you like it :)
The farmhouse was quiet.
Jocelyn was used to the children yelling, laughing, playing. She remembered that one time when Clary had pushed Simon down the stairs and she had found him crying there, his ankle sprained. Thinking about Simon still hurt. She had been shattered, right after Jonathan… she had lost Simon too.
But things were going to be okay. She had seen Simon just a few days back, the night of her wedding. She smiled.
She had married Luke. They had chased each other for years, always hesitating, never quite reaching, and here they were. Married.
They had been supposed to marry in October. No, they had been supposed to marry twenty years ago. But then, Clary wouldn’t have been born. No, they should’ve realized what they both felt for each other when Luke had appeared on her doorstep in New York, instead of wasting an entire decade hiding their feelings. Alas, they had only shared their first kiss right after the Mortal War, and had been living together ever since.
Jocelyn sighed. She had had two children, she knew the signs. She had perhaps been a little too young when she’d had Jonathan, but wasn’t 38 too old to have another child?
When she’d had Jonathan and had not been able to love him she had almost committed suicide.
When she’d found out she was pregnant with Clary, she’d been determined to shield her from everything concerning the Invisible World. So determined that she left Luke and moved to New York to live a mundane life. For so long Clary had been her whole world.
And now… Another child, not poisoned by Valentine… Luke’s true child. What was he going to say?
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind. She turned her head and buried it in Luke’s shoulder, breathing him in.
“Lunch’s ready,” he murmured.
Jocelyn made a noise. She didn’t want to eat anything she might vomit later.
“Everything all right?” Luke asked, still holding her.
Unsure on how to proceed, she just dropped it there.
“Luke, I think I might be pregnant.”
“You – think?”
“I’m almost sure of it.”
The smile that immediately lit up his face was worth all the anxiety of the past few days, the stress of the wedding and the pain of the entire war.
“But, when –?”
“Remember that time when Isabelle had the flu so Clary slept over at the Institute to take care of her and since our daughter wasn’t home you thought it was a good idea to assault me in the shower? I think that was it.”
They both stood in silence for a minute.
Then, “Do you think I’m going to be a good father?”
“Are you serious? It’s nothing new to you, love. You were the perfect father to Clary and you’re going to be just as perfect for your own child.”
“She is,” Luke said decisively. “Clary is my daughter. And I’m not going to love her any less now.”
Jocelyn caressed his face. “I know.”
She cupped his cheeks and kissed him, long and sweet and delicate. Luke’s hands went to her red hair as he deepened the kiss and gently pinned her against the wall. Then his right hand started slowly travelling down her body, until he lifted the rim of her sundress.
“Luke,” she gasped between kisses. “I don’t think–“
His mouth suddenly left hers and he bent down to press his lips to her stomach.
“Hi, baby,” he mouthed against her belly-button and Jocelyn realized he was not talking to her, but to the child.
“I love you,” she just said.
Luke looked up at her and smirked. “That’s why you married me, right?”