[Tayseri] No Cursing In Front Of The Little'n (open)

Bugger bugger piss bugger bugger bugger toss bugger balls.
Panicked gift-buying, among humans, was generally reserved for Christmas - or something analogous to it - so why was there a human doing just that in Tayseri's market plaza right now?
Answer: he'd somehow missed Christmas.
Missed it, for the first time in just over twenty-six years.
Months of insufficient sleep and a wife who wasn't in the habit of celebrating human holidays had made Emile blissfully oblivious to the reason so many of his colleagues hadn't worked on that particular day.

Leaving the shop with a matching necklace-bracelet set, Emile looked into the perambulator he was pushing around which contained the reason he'd had so little sleep for most of the year - a giggling, gurgling miniature asari.
"Right, that's your mum sorted... now what the fu-- er, funkadoodle do I get you?"
The self-censoring was new. Little Siobhán was getting to the stage where she'd be graduating from infant burbling to some approximation of real language... and Zelana was adamant her daughter's first word would not be "shitbiscuits" or "wankpot".
Casting a glance over the market didn't reveal anything fantastically suitable - and so Emile pushed on, hoping for something to catch his eye.

Sarah Thompson sat on a bench in the ward, sunglasses reflecting the artificial sun. She'd check her OT, then cross a leg over her knee and drape an arm over the back of the bench. A nice, fake sunny day with little to do. Until work resumes, that is. The blonde reached into her jacket, removing a pack of cigarettes- One was removed, the switch was flipped and she took a puff.

God, it feels good to get out of the house.

Clunk.
"Fffffffnarg."
Reversing away from the snack bar the pram had contrived to collide with, Emile tried manoeuvring around it - but was interrupted by the sound that had haunted his sleep for months.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"
It seemed Siobhán objected to crashing into things. Sensible, really.
"Da- er, dandy... sorry sorry sorry--"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"
"Won't happen again, please be quiet--"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"

Bench over there. Emile headed for it, parked the pram and lifted his daughter, rocking her gently back and forth.
"Shhhh.... shhhhhh... it's all right..."
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA."
And that was it. Over as soon as it had started.

Sarah put her cigarette out, shoving it back into the pack in her pocket. She politely recoiled her arm, resting it on her knee.
"Cute kid. I have a friend who has a toddler like that." She glanced over at the frazzled shopper, referring to her friend on Eden Prime. "Long day?" She asked, peering through her sunglass lenses.

"You have no idea. I swear she does this on purpose."
Emile continued to gently rock the little blue thing, which burbled and dribbled all over itself.
Lovely.
"It's weird, I never thought I'd be much of a parent - but months of screaming and throwing up later, and I still have trouble tearing myself away sometimes."

Siobhán, for her part, was watching Daddy intently. Waiting for the opportune moment. A little closer, and... grab. Got his nose!
"...Eved whed she does dat."

"You don't say? You were afraid and had reservations to the process beforehand?" She crossed her arms, clearly trying to hide her feelings on the subject. Raising a family has been a often-treaded subject in her home, but the 'Your mom's a terrorist' argument in the future frankly frightened her. She adjusts her jacket collar.

Mercifully, Siobhán relinquished Emile's nose after a few seconds, before her father laid her down again to entertain herself making her fingers glow blue.
"Afraid? I was terrified," he chuckled, looking over at Sarah (wait, haven't I seen her somewhere?), "so many doubts, worries and what-ifs flying around during the pregnancy. Now she's here, I... there's still so much to happen, and that still frightens me sometimes - but all I have to do now is look at her, and..."
He trailed off, stroking Siobhán's scalp with a finger.
"...ye gods, would y'ever listen to me carrying on. I sound like one of those sickly-sweet cartoon characters."

"My partner really would like to expand our family from the two of us. I don't know what to do. I've thought about it- I'm scared of having a kid grow up to be a biotic, or having a life similar to mine, or countless other reasons." She rubbed her palms together- Fingerless gloves and a gold/silver band on her ring finger. "- I want her to be happy. I just need to get over my fear."

Emile blinked, surprised. He'd guessed there was a reason for such a specific conversation topic, but her actually coming out and saying it wasn't something he'd expected to happen. At least, not so soon.
"Not sure what to tell you, if I'm honest - more of a job for my mother-in-law - but I get why you feel like that. I was the same way not long ago."
He leaned back, aware of Siobhán trying to put his finger in her mouth again.
"I suppose the best thing I can suggest would be talking to your partner. Tell her why you're scared, and let her help you through it, something like that. She wants you to be happy too, right?"

"I guess. Fff-" She caught a curse word and froze- Realization strikes. "Aaargh. I am so sorry- I'm wearing my problems on my sleeves." She buried her face in her hands, trying to hide her embarrassment. After a moment, she slapped her hands to her knees and extended a hand. "Sarah. I - My partner owns the new restaurant down in Shin Akiba." She gestured off into the direction. "I- It's nice to meet you, mr..?"

"Could be worse - you could be bottling it all up and refusing to deal with it. That's a bad idea."
Not that he'd done exactly that during the war. Not at all. Nooooo.

Sarah. That was it.
Emile took the hand and shook it, recognition finally completing somewhere in his braincase.
"Emile. We've met before - you hosted a get-together at my wife's club a few weeks back. I was the one reduced to a gibbering wreck by her sneaking up on me?"

"Get out! No way! I - Oh wow, it's good to see you!" She'd lean over, giving him a hug. "I knew I recognized you from somewhere- How have you been? I take it the family's doing well." She gestured at the toddler, then leaned back to her regular seating position. "Me and the S-O go to your club all the time! I'm uh, great with remembering faces, just.. It was pretty dark in that club that night, heh."

Emile smirked. "I'll be sure to pass that on."
"As for the family, well," Emile gestured over towards his daughter, who took the opportunity to grab another finger, "you've seen two of us. Zel's been working on cocktails again - warning you now, some of those things are terrifying - and we're kind of going 50/50 on the little one here. And how are you doing, Siobhán?"
"Blrgl."
"How about you and... Chris, was it? I'm useless with names."

"'Well, we have our ups and downs, I suppose, just like anyone else. We've been together for abought eight years-" She'd jokingly fret, twisting the ring on her hand. "I think I'm stuck with her. She won't leave now, so we're together for the long run."

Emile's smirk broadened. "Eternal matrimony? Oh, the horror."
He was silent for a few seconds, trying to imagine how things would be when he got to that stage.
"Eight years is good going. I'm still amazed Zel's put up with me for--"
"Blorgh!"
The hand Siobhán was playing with was suddenly covered with something warm. And wet.
"Oh, son of a b-b-b-bunny rabbit..."

Reaching into a pouch, Emile grabbed a few wipes to begin the tedious (and horrible) barf removal process.
"Why do you never throw up on anyone but me?"

"Maybe she's making a statement." Sarah was fighting the urge to laugh. Briefly pressing her forearm against her mouth, she relied on the anonymity of her sunglasses to hide her eye's expression. "I.. wow, how often does that happen?" The woman turned, shifting her leg against her knee. "She ..got you good, didn't she?"

"Not as often as she used to," Emile grunted, spraying some de-stenchifier or other on the afflicted appendage, "but she can still surprise you. Her aim's getting better too - look at that, not a drop on her."
Siobhán merely giggled at daddy's Annoyed Face.
"I'm just glad I changed her before we left the flat."

Sarah slowly stood up, her hands dipped into her jacket pockets. She'd remove a card, offering it over. "Emile, call me when you get the chance, it'd be nice to have you and yours over for dinner one evening. As for me, I've got to get going. It was great seeing you!"

"Sounds good, I'll see you around. Have a good... eh, afternoon? Is it afternoon? That."
Emile pocketed the card, watching Sarah leave as his mind tried frantically to figure out what he'd been doing.

Er.

Belated Christmas presents, that was it.
"So who have we left to buy for? Yer mam's sorted, still got to get you something... anyone else?"
"Haa-lee."
"Halley? I guess, but does she even celebrate it? She's in for the whole turian spirit thing."
"Haa-lee," Siobhán repeated, a little more insistently.
"Yes, Halley," Emile continued, oblivious, "I've already noted thaaaa..."
The penny, it would seem, had dropped.

Emile's mouth and vocal cords were suddenly faced with quite the challenge; five different (and increasingly nonsensical) expressions of surprise had been delivered by an extremely bewildered brain, each demanding first priority, to wit:
"Did you just talk?"
"Halley? Was that 'Halley'?"
"Sweet jumping bananas, I have to tell Zela!"
"Bloody hell must get omnitool record for things!"
"First word! She done made first word!"
A herculean task, to be sure - entirely understandable, then, that the noise he eventually produced didn't quite encapsulate them all:
"Didblirstley jurdwayellshing doomgemnanathade toojfraftree haltelkzewothleyngs?!"

Fumbling for his omnitool, Emile hit "record" and held the receiver to his daughter.
"Do it again!"
"Blrg?"
"The thing! With the word!"
"Fllp."
"Come on, what did I say to set it off... 'anyone else'?"
"Haa-lee."
Stop recording, save, play back just to make sure... he'd got it!

Now all he had to do was tell everyone he knew.