so why'd you have to rain on my parade?

       

I'm shaking my head. I'm locking the gates.

Now that Samantha was fully settled into the comfort of her new apartment alongside Kit, it was simply impossible to ignore the growing child that existed within her, nor the needs that this child was going to need... things. Vaguely, Samantha could remember the vast amount of gear that Nadya had possessed when she'd had the twins. But, Samantha had presumed, Nadya had simply been over the top and purchased every possible thing that they made for babies. After all, the woman did have a tendency to overspend, as Samantha well knew from their shopping trips together what seemed like a million years ago. The expectant mother had assumed that she wouldn't need that much to raise her child. A crib... clothes... diapers? What else could you possibly need? Maybe some toys? A carseat, probably? It couldn't be that much.

Oh, how wrong Samantha was. That realization hit her the moment that she stepped over the threshold and into the boutique children's shop. Immediately, the young mother was greeted with the presence of thousands of different options of things she might need. Diaper Genie? Cloth diapers? Was she using a pacifier? Did she need blankets to swaddle? What kind of carseat? Did she need a stroller? Samantha was just focused on looking at a pile of newborn onesies - was the baby really going to be that small? - when a wave of disgust hit her. Immediately, the empath glanced up, scanning the people around her for the source of the emotion. Was someone in trouble? The young woman caught sight of a pair of saleswomen, both eyeing her suspiciously with expressions that matched the negative emotions radiating off of them. Easily, the young woman's telempathy reached out, her curiosity getting the best of her and her wanting to desperately know what it was that had disgusted them so.

Can you believe her? Another teenage mother parading around in here. I bet she doesn't even know who the dad is. The thoughts of the saleswoman made Samantha freeze, clutching the pink onesie in her hands. She supposed she could hardly fault the women for their thoughts, even if she had to admit that it hurt like hell. Immortal as she might be, she appeared the part of a barely eighteen year old girl, even if she would be nearing thirty this year. She looked the part of the unwed teenage mother. But who could fault their line of thoughts? Fae pregnancies were rare, and it wasn't as if it was terribly common for other immortals to have children. As far as she knew, at least. But still, the eyes staring at her made the young woman more uncomfortable by the minute.

Samantha clutched the little pink outfit in her hands as she made her way to the register, her eyes downcast as she pulled out the cash to pay for her first, and only, item for her unborn daughter. The fae did her best to ignore the impatient cluck of the saleswoman's tongue as she eyed her swollen belly and youthful appearance. It was only after she'd been handed the receipt and was free to go that she reached up, tucking a lock of her hair behind to reveal those delicately pointed ears. She felt the surprise off the woman, and yet... it did very little to soothe Samantha's mood.

Exiting the shop, Samantha found herself moving to sit upon one of the stone benches, thankful that this part of the city didn't have those horrendous iron benches that burned her skin. She had meant to buy more for their child today; to come home to Kit with some proof that she knew how to be a mother to this child. But she didn't, did she? She didn't know the first thing about infants or parenting, and the sudden realization of that was enough to bring tears to the eyes of the young woman. Slowly, she pulled the little pink sleeper out of the bag, holding it in her hands as she stared down and fought the tears and ache that that woman had pulled out of her.

this is why we can't have nice things

       

Samantha Cassidy