Who: Clara Abbott, Emmet Belby, and Marcus Belby
What: Grocery shopping
Where: ...grocer
When: BEFORE Joceline's entry xD
She really wasn't trying to look like a stalker. Not that anyone actually tried to look like a stalker, because that would defeat the purpose, it just so happened that Clara was in the grocery at the same time as Emmet, and, really. Coincidences happen like that all the time. All the time, she told her self over and over as she waved from the opposite end of the aisle. All the time, of course. All the time, you run into the guy you've been trying to bring up the nerve to even talk to. She was just so busy! She was too busy to sit down and build up the courage. She wasn't a fucking Gryffindor, things like this took time.
And she didn't even know why she got so flustered; Clara barely knew Emmet, it was just---she didn't know, it was different, because it wasn't at some club, or some party, or some guy her brother introduced her to from work. It was different, and she liked that, she was just far too chicken to let him know that, or do anything remotely like...well...anything.
"Hiiii," Clara said, shifting her basket of veggies from one hand to the other.
There were a lot of things Emmet hated doing. Changing nasty nappies and dealing with eleven-year-olds who need a wand right now were just some of them. But currently the top of that list was trying to shop for food. It should've been an easy task, something Emmet had been capable of for years now, but it was made insanely difficult by his very active and squirmy three-month-old.
Sure, he could've gotten someone to watch Marcus, but he didn't want to 'use up' babysitting points for silly things like going to the market. Emmet wasn't sure exactly what he was going to use them for, but it was better to save them up for an emergency. The trolleys weren't very baby friendly and hauling around that stupid carrier made him look like an idiot – mostly because he didn't have a vehicle, so he carried Marcus on his chest.
It had been going fine until they'd ended up in an aisle with a woman who was screaming across the store to her child, and Marcus had been jolted awake and was now fussing his way into a tantrum.
Plus, it seemed that every woman in the store wanted to hit him with their trolley. He wasn't sure what kind of pick up line that was, but honestly? Like he'd pick someone up in a store of all places. Emmet looked over to see a… well he suppose the breasts made her a woman, but she was wearing this track suit two sizes too small and she'd already bumped into him in the dairy aisle and tried to help him pick out the kind of cheese he wanted and now she was back, probably trying to fondle his grapes or something.
Marcus let out a squeal of protest as Emmet turned quickly and walked the aisle, letting out a sigh of relief as he noticed Clara wave at him. He took a few quick steps and grinned.
"Hey, just work with me okay?" he said quickly, before leaning in and giving her a quick kiss on the lips, putting his other hand on her lower back.
"You get that thing I asked for, sweets?" Emmet said a little louder than normal, to make sure the ugly woman who was passing by heard.
"Here, you take him and I'll take the basket," he said, reaching for the handle of her basket and shifting Marcus into her other arm. The woman waited around for a moment before taking off in disgust and Emmet gave Clara a very apologetic look.
"Sorry about that. It seems that every woman in this store thinks a man shopping with his baby must be looking for a shag."
He’d already explained his surprising actions and Clara’s mind was still reeling. Emmet just kissed me he just kissed me why did he just kiss me oh stop it he kissed you kiss him back and it took her a moment before realizing that he was talking and she’d barely caught his explanation and there was a baby in her arms. This was more than confusing, and Clara’s lips twisted funnily as she tried to regain some sort of sense. Part of her was shouting ‘all right!’ and the other was saying ‘hold on a minute…’ which was utterly confusing and---
Snap out of it.
“Oh, aha---” Clara carefully laid Marcus on her shoulder, bouncing the fussy baby a bit with soothing pats on the back. Right, well. Of course she’d be of some assistance; that was no problem. She was an assistant, after all, it was just now carrying into her every day life and with the guy she fancied. Right, that made sense. Clara smiled brightly, trying not to make it look too forced (though, she supposed that any unreal smile did look forced, though she was still in a bit of a daze---bloody hell) and looked down the aisle at the retreating woman. When she was out of sight for good, Clara’s eyes widened a bit in an amused manner, “Well, glad to be of some help. Single woman can be—ah, aggressive.”
Clara pulled back a bit to get a look at Marcus, pouting exaggeratedly at the infant, “What’s the matter, little man? Papa not getting you the sweets you crave?”
Emmet just gave her a smile as she seemed to come out of a daze. Maybe he'd caught her on a bad day and she'd been taken medicine for a cold or something. That always made him a little loopy. As Marcus fussed a little he reached around her and took the baby's hand, shaking it a little and hoping that she could calm him down. Sometimes Emmet was convinced that Marcus hated him and just wanted someone else to hold him - that's usually when he guilted Matilda or Mackenzie to come over and take care of them both. Or Marcus while Emmet took a nap or a shower, which was sort of the same thing.
"I guess, but you think a man with a baby would be off limits. Like, what if my wife was around the corner while that single women are there, undressing me with her eyes?" Emmet teased a bit. He frowned at her pout, immediately wondering if something was wrong.
"If only that were the case," he frowned some more. "He just ate before we came here, I think it's because his nap was interrupted by Ivan the Terrible Tantrum," he hooked his thumb over his shoulder to no one in particular. "And believe me, we've tired the sweets route, but Mackenzie calls me a horrible parent and threatens to take him away from me again."
He rolled his eyes, "His godmother," Emmet supplied helpfully, "there was an incident of learning to fly or...well we didn't even get that far, it was just talking about it and she took him away for a whole week."
Wait, did that mean he had a wife? No, he wouldn’t have kissed her if he did. But Clara supposed that if he trusted her enough to kiss her (which really didn’t have to be that much, in all honesty) then he trusted her not to tell his wife. If she existed at all. Her throat closed at the mention of a woman’s name, but---all right, godmother. If he had a wife, she wouldn’t exactly let this woman take her baby away for a week, right? That made sense. She wasn’t sure, but it made the most sense.
“Aw, well,” Clara wiggled her nose at Marcus, “sometimes you just need to let it all out, don’t you, Marcus? Annoyed with politics, war, and why on earth did Big Bird pick the letter Z this week?” She got a blank look from the baby and nodded solemnly, “I know. Me too. Couldn’t believe it.”
She let out a breath and spotted what she supposed was Emmet’s trolley down the aisle a bit, “I just came for a few things, I’ll…play decoy for you, if you want. While you finish shopping, I mean.”
Because it was nice to offer, and maybe they could talk more, which was always a plus. She would leave out the fact that he needed her to keep rabid singles away when she told Joceline about this little grocery adventure.
"We don't watch Sesame Street," Emmet shook his head, "He's too cultured for that. Marcus likes Sooty, Crackerjack and Lift Off - to my dismay. What child of mine likes popular music, eh? But I get him the rest of the day, and we're weening him off of that and onto lovely stuff like Joy Division and The Doors. Isn't that right?"
Emmet looked down at his trolley and went over the list in his head. "I'm pretty much finished, really, I just need to find..dragon fruit and this one kind of pasta that Caradoc likes but doesn't think I buy it from the store. I'm pretty sure they have it here, but I don't remember where I found it. Hold on a sec."
He jogged over to grab his trolley and put her basket in the cart before pushing it over. He reached into the diddy bag and pulled out a spit towel and handed it over to Clara, "Er, you'll probably need that. With the way he's been fussing, I wouldn't be surprised if lunch made a revisit."
Emmet scrunched his nose at the thought of vomit. To be honest, it wasn't as bad as 'grown up' sick but it was still pretty bad. He thought that you were supposed to get used to this stuff, but it totally wasn't happening. There was a minor freak out every time Marcus managed to get spit up on one of Emmet's favorite band shirts. "You carry and I'll drive."
“Aw, you boys don’t know what you’re missing,” Clara sighed as she began to walk alongside the cart. “The Count got into this terribly fascinating dilemma with the amount of bats in his belfry and I was sure he wouldn’t be able to count them all, but lo and behold, he did. Simply amazing.”
She really should tell Joceline that there were other shows on the telly besides educational children’s programs, but her friend was already dealing with enough, so Clara let her be. Of course, this meant she knew all about the yakkity yakkity yak and his observations about the letter ‘y’, but she supposed the early teachings to Marietta couldn’t hurt. Not like there was anything else on, and she usually had the wireless on in her bedroom.
“Erm…pasta’s the aisle over, and fruits and veggies---by the door, but you probably know that, so, I’m just thinking out loud,” of course he knew where the fruit was, it was---right in front of the entrance with a big sign that said FRUIT. So unless he was blind, which he clearly wasn’t, he knew where it was and just hadn’t picked it up yet. And there she was babbling on like a dope. Clara hoped her ears weren’t burning too badly as she maneuvered Marcus onto her other shoulder, “So, la la, oh Marcus, please don’t throw up----”
"Bats in the belfry, eh?" Emmet raised a teasing eyebrow at her, clearly indicating who he thought had bats in her belfry. He leaned on the cart with his forearms letting his back rest a little bit. It was tiring to stand upright while holding Marcus all of the time. He could get one of those snuggly things for his chest, but there was no way in hell he was going to get caught wearing something so ridiculous looking.
They strolled slowly, because now Emmet wasn't in such of a hurry to leave. Clara had calmed Marcus down a bit - it was probably because she was soft and had womanly bits, rather than just hanging out with him all the time. It happened with Mackenzie and Matilda all the time. Not so much Alecto, but, then again she didn't really like holding him that much. Emmet looked over at Clara's 'womanly bits' and smirked to himself before turning back forward and directing his cart over to the pasta aisle.
"He never listens," Emmet responded to her musings. "How do you know about Sesame Street? Do you have a kid yourself?"
“Oh, no, you need to have sex to have a kid,” Clara joked, or, well, blurted before she could think about it. If she hadn’t had the sense to realize that she had a baby in her arms, she would’ve dropped everything and darted out of the grocery. As if he didn’t think she was already---“I mean, not that I’ve never---I mean---you need to have a---well you don’t need a---right, well, no, no babies for Clara.”
She puffed her cheeks, wondering how long she could hold her breath to make sure she didn’t say anything else that would make her look like an even bigger idiot. This is why people walked all over her, she had no idea how to talk or to keep her head straight when it came to big crowds and loud people. Give her a list of things to do and Clara was ace, give her a group of potential partners to woo and goodbye contracts.
“But erm---my friend, she’s got an infant too and…and she’s been staying with me for a bit,” Clara almost mentioned that Joceline was staying away from her bloody idiot of a husband, but that was probably too much information to be spilling in the grocery aisle. Her busy schedule had kept her from focusing too much on Joceline’s woes, but when she was reminded, oy, Clara got more riled up than she ever had in her life, “And so I’ve been catching up on ‘The Street.’
Emmet raised his eyebrow a little further and nearly groaned inwardly at the revelation that Clara was just another Giada. Different, but considering that he'd gone through all of that shite with her not too long ago - he could measure it by how old Marcus was - Emmet, despite being attracted, wasn't going to get into that kind of situation any time soon. Plus, it wasn't like he needed to be dating anyone with Marcus around. It was still a kicker though, Matilda was getting married to a fuckoff and Mackenzie was already married to one, Caradoc had Dorcas, Evan had that child-girl still at Hogwarts. There was hope since Orpheus and Alecto didn't have anyone either... but still.
He listened to her ramble and was glad that she didn't have a child though, other than her friend's kid. That was definitely good. "That's nice of you. Most people wouldn't do that - let their friend and infant live with them." When they reached the aisle of pasta, Emmet turned and looked at the shelving, "It's erm, green packaging with white stripy thingies."
“Yeah, well,” Clara smiled lightly looking up and down the shelves, “She’s been my best friend since first year, and her husband’s a total toerag, so it’s all for the best, I guess.”
Marcus’ face had twisted a bit as if he was going to help with the search, and Clara bent down to check out the bottom shelf. She turned to watch the baby’s searching eyes, unsure if he could actually be aware of what he’s looking at---well, of course she knew that he didn’t understand, but it was just interesting, is all. She liked watching people’s faces, their expressions, and with babies it just seemed like they could be thinking about anything and you could never exactly figure it out. Because really, the less talking she had to do to understand a person, the better. Obviously.
The baby gave a tug of her earring, and whether he knew it or not, made Clara’s eyes snap toward the package of pasta Emmet had been searching for. Letting out a bit of a squeal she planted a kiss on Marcus’ cheek and snatched up the pasta, “Marcus found it!”
