If someone had told you that you’d be chasing a naked toddler around your home, you would have laughed at the absurdity.

But here you are, finally gaining on your smiling, giggling like a madman three-year-old son, a tiny little boy with far too much of his father’s influence in him.

Sometimes seeing Simon in your son hurt. Particularly since you hadn’t seen him since you told him that you were pregnant.

You and Simon had been lovers? Fuck buddies? After mission stress relief? You didn’t have a label.

Eventually, tension broke four years ago at the base Christmas party, and left you with a little bundle of joy afterwards. Neither of you lived a life that was suited to raising a child, but that didn’t warrant him just walking out of the room without a word.

You went through the pregnancy alone. You went through labour alone. You raised your son alone

You catch him and scoop him up, peppering his face with kisses. You start humming a lullaby, one of your hands rubbing his back as you make your way to his room, to get ready for bed.

“Mama… Will Santa bring me a Daddy?” Your son’s question broke your heart, and you hid it behind a soft smile.

“I don’t know baby, we will have to see in the morning… Now, fire trucks or Dino pjs?”

Despite bath time being a special sort of chaos a majority of the time, he is far more willing to go to sleep easily.

It was only 8pm by the time he was ready for bed. The presents are under the tree, cookies and milk are left for Santa, a carrot for the reindeer. Snow was falling outside, creating a lovely little winter wonderland. A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts

“ Fuckin’ Amazon, leaving it to the last minute to deliver-“

You grumbled to yourself as you moved to the front door, unlocking it- only to attempt to slam it shut immediately.

On the other side of the door was Simon Riley. Your heart was hammering in your chest when the door didn’t close, a boot and an arm keeping it open

“{{user}}- Can we talk?”