Fic: Ambiance is key
Aug. 21st, 2007 02:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
astri13That time of the week again, migrator from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spnflashfic
Title: Ambiance is key
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
astri13
Characters: John, Mary, Baby :)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 855
Disclaimer: I don't own anything about the show. *g*
Notes: Many thanks toaizjanika for an awesome beta-job.
Beware of schmoop. :)
Summary: It isn't always a question of what you eat but where.
"I don`t understand. Is he sick?" Confusion and worry marred John's handsome features.
Mary shrugged helplessly. "At the hospital they said he was a perfectly healthy little boy." Holding the baby tightly against her shoulder, Mary gently started to rock him. The infant's desperate wails had finally quieted down, but the scrunched-up, tear-streaked little face looked far from happy.
Not that Mary could blame him. The little one must have been starving, and Mary would have liked nothing better than to feed him right now, but the baby refused anything they offered him and she and John were both at the end of their rope.
In the hospital everything had been fine. Mary had breastfed her newborn son, and the baby had gurgled happily while suckling. She had even fed him in the car on the ride back home three days ago, but ever since they'd set foot in the house, the baby refused to eat.
At first believing the infant had just been cranky about leaving his heretofore only familiar environment for new digs, Mary had grown increasingly restless on the second day and had phoned the doctor. The man hadn't been much help, speculating the baby had suddenly developed an allergic reaction to mother's milk. They were supposed to try formula and observe the situation for a few days, before bringing him in for another check-up.
So they had tried feeding their little one formula to no avail. Whenever the bottle was pressed to his lips, the baby had pulled away with an unhappy frown which quickly turned into full on screaming.
John nervously drummed his fingers against the doorframe. Then a determined expression came over his face. "That's it. We're taking him to the hospital again. This is not normal."
Mary sighed but couldn't really argue with that, so she dressed the baby in his brand-new little jacket, embroidered with colourful little ducks. John pulled a face. He hated that jacket, claimed it was making his son look "unmanly".
The idea made Mary snort. Their son was all of a week and a half old. How manly was he supposed to be? Besides, the jacket had been a gift from her mother, and Mary thought the baby looked adorable in it. A little hat completed the picture and off they went.
Opting to sit in the back seat with the infant, Mary felt little hands grab at her clumsily a few minutes after they'd started driving. She looked down, and the baby started making tiny sounds, almost drowned out by the Impala's rumbling engine.
Huh? Mary knew that look. It was the "feed me" look she had come to know very well back at the hospital. Experimentally, she opened her blouse and pulled down her maternity bra on one side, guiding the little mouth to his source of nourishment. Immediately the baby latched on, the ferocity of the action making Mary gasp.
"Um…John?"
"Almost there, honey," John answered distractedly.
"John," Mary tried again, "he is feeding."
"What?" The car swerved a little with John's surprised shout. The sudden movement dislodged the baby's mouth from his Mecca and unhappy wailing filled the car. Quickly Mary guided the baby back. If anything the infant sucked even more fiercely, tiny hands grabbing her breast as if to make it clear he wasn't about to let go again-at least not until he'd gotten his fill.
"So, are we still taking him to the hospital?" Mary asked, unsure.
John scratched his head with one hand. "Hm. Don't know. What do you think happened?"
Mary looked down at the baby again, little face wearing a look of pure bliss, blue eyes smiling up at her. "Maybe he likes being fed in the car? You know, the vibrations and rumblings of the engine."
John looked confused for a moment, but then a big smile spread over his face. "Like cars, huh? Isn't he just a chip off the old block?"
"Lots of babies like the sound of an engine or the rocking feeling in a moving vehicle, John. Doesn't have to mean anything." Mary laughed. "Maybe he'll want to be a cook or a lawyer or fireman or maybe he'll run away to Hollywood to become a biiiig movie star." She pressed a kiss to the baby's still bald head.
"Dude, your momma is crazy," John spoke to the baby, glancing at his wife's reflection in the rear-view mirror.
"You just wait until he is a teenager, John Winchester, see how much a chip off the old block he is then."
John shook his head. "I'll never fight with any son of mine the way my old man fought with me. He'll be a respectful, loyal young man, helping out his old dad. Won't you, dude?"
Mary smirked. "Before you assign him shifts at the garage, you do realize that his little car-fetish means you'll have to drive us around for those midnight feedings, right?"
Her husband's enthusiasm about this new development looked like it had just been dampened considerably.
Mary just hoped the little one wouldn't always be so picky when it came to eating.
spnflashficTitle: Ambiance is key
Author:
astri13Characters: John, Mary, Baby :)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 855
Disclaimer: I don't own anything about the show. *g*
Notes: Many thanks to
aizjanika for an awesome beta-job.Beware of schmoop. :)
Summary: It isn't always a question of what you eat but where.
"I don`t understand. Is he sick?" Confusion and worry marred John's handsome features.
Mary shrugged helplessly. "At the hospital they said he was a perfectly healthy little boy." Holding the baby tightly against her shoulder, Mary gently started to rock him. The infant's desperate wails had finally quieted down, but the scrunched-up, tear-streaked little face looked far from happy.
Not that Mary could blame him. The little one must have been starving, and Mary would have liked nothing better than to feed him right now, but the baby refused anything they offered him and she and John were both at the end of their rope.
In the hospital everything had been fine. Mary had breastfed her newborn son, and the baby had gurgled happily while suckling. She had even fed him in the car on the ride back home three days ago, but ever since they'd set foot in the house, the baby refused to eat.
At first believing the infant had just been cranky about leaving his heretofore only familiar environment for new digs, Mary had grown increasingly restless on the second day and had phoned the doctor. The man hadn't been much help, speculating the baby had suddenly developed an allergic reaction to mother's milk. They were supposed to try formula and observe the situation for a few days, before bringing him in for another check-up.
So they had tried feeding their little one formula to no avail. Whenever the bottle was pressed to his lips, the baby had pulled away with an unhappy frown which quickly turned into full on screaming.
John nervously drummed his fingers against the doorframe. Then a determined expression came over his face. "That's it. We're taking him to the hospital again. This is not normal."
Mary sighed but couldn't really argue with that, so she dressed the baby in his brand-new little jacket, embroidered with colourful little ducks. John pulled a face. He hated that jacket, claimed it was making his son look "unmanly".
The idea made Mary snort. Their son was all of a week and a half old. How manly was he supposed to be? Besides, the jacket had been a gift from her mother, and Mary thought the baby looked adorable in it. A little hat completed the picture and off they went.
Opting to sit in the back seat with the infant, Mary felt little hands grab at her clumsily a few minutes after they'd started driving. She looked down, and the baby started making tiny sounds, almost drowned out by the Impala's rumbling engine.
Huh? Mary knew that look. It was the "feed me" look she had come to know very well back at the hospital. Experimentally, she opened her blouse and pulled down her maternity bra on one side, guiding the little mouth to his source of nourishment. Immediately the baby latched on, the ferocity of the action making Mary gasp.
"Um…John?"
"Almost there, honey," John answered distractedly.
"John," Mary tried again, "he is feeding."
"What?" The car swerved a little with John's surprised shout. The sudden movement dislodged the baby's mouth from his Mecca and unhappy wailing filled the car. Quickly Mary guided the baby back. If anything the infant sucked even more fiercely, tiny hands grabbing her breast as if to make it clear he wasn't about to let go again-at least not until he'd gotten his fill.
"So, are we still taking him to the hospital?" Mary asked, unsure.
John scratched his head with one hand. "Hm. Don't know. What do you think happened?"
Mary looked down at the baby again, little face wearing a look of pure bliss, blue eyes smiling up at her. "Maybe he likes being fed in the car? You know, the vibrations and rumblings of the engine."
John looked confused for a moment, but then a big smile spread over his face. "Like cars, huh? Isn't he just a chip off the old block?"
"Lots of babies like the sound of an engine or the rocking feeling in a moving vehicle, John. Doesn't have to mean anything." Mary laughed. "Maybe he'll want to be a cook or a lawyer or fireman or maybe he'll run away to Hollywood to become a biiiig movie star." She pressed a kiss to the baby's still bald head.
"Dude, your momma is crazy," John spoke to the baby, glancing at his wife's reflection in the rear-view mirror.
"You just wait until he is a teenager, John Winchester, see how much a chip off the old block he is then."
John shook his head. "I'll never fight with any son of mine the way my old man fought with me. He'll be a respectful, loyal young man, helping out his old dad. Won't you, dude?"
Mary smirked. "Before you assign him shifts at the garage, you do realize that his little car-fetish means you'll have to drive us around for those midnight feedings, right?"
Her husband's enthusiasm about this new development looked like it had just been dampened considerably.
Mary just hoped the little one wouldn't always be so picky when it came to eating.
