santa newt is coming to town

[sciencesaggressively]

Newt has discovered that he hates shopping for babies.

It's the looks that get him, the looks and the pointing from expectant mothers and their friends who think he can't hear or see them, who are all smiling and whispering conspiratorially about how sweet it is that he's shopping for his little girl, and Newt kind of just wants to rip all his hair out so he can throw it at these women because he so wouldn't be here if he didn't have to be.

He blames Texas Ranger. Yeah, he totally blames Texas Ranger because if Sawyer hadn't had his kid dropped on his doorstep, Newt wouldn't have to be shopping for her stupidly cute little self, thus avoiding the exact kind of attention he doesn't want. Actually, if he's being honest, he maybe doesn't mind it as much as he'll definitely say he does to anyone who asks. He's got a shopping cart full of clothes for Clementine, like this snowsuit with the little ears on the hood and that super badass Batman costume that she'll definitely be thanking her Uncle Newt for one day.

He's never wanted kids, still doesn't want kids, is perfectly happy with his and Kate's decision not to have kids, but it turns out that dealing with his friends' kids isn't so bad. He thinks that's mostly because he can hand them back at the end of the day but whatever, it's fine, Newt thinks that's totally fair. In the end, he leaves the mall with nine new outfits for Clementine, three pairs of shoes, a super soft plush dinosaur that he's thinking of just keeping for himself, and a sweet leather jacket that's warm enough for the winter for Sawyer. It doesn't take that long to haul all his bounty back to Dimera, heading straight for the second floor and knocking on the door.

It's Christmastime, Newt's second in Darrow, and he's glad to share in it when he remembers that for a long, long time, the holidays had stopped being on people's radar. It's hard to think about gift giving when any day could bring more death and destruction to the world, he supposes, but he's here now. He's here, he's married, he's happy, and he's ready to spread a little bit of Christmas fucking cheer.

Comments

[confidenceman]

One of the nice and completely unexpected benefits to having a kid is how much easier it is to get out of certain types of commitments. Sorry, can't make that work outing; got a kid at home who needs looking after. Or, sorry, can't make your missus' party, don't think Clementine would get along with wine glasses and fine china. It's convenient as hell to turn everyone towards visiting him instead, and the amount of energy that he saves on shuttling to and fro in the city leaves Sawyer in a pretty decent mood, all things considered, this holiday season.

Helps that Clementine's able to help herself a bit, too. He still has to feed her, change her diapers, do everything parents are meant to do, but now that Clementine's on her feet and easily zooming around the apartment, she's also able to make it pretty clear what she's after. Sawyer knows a lot of people will warn about how rowdy kids get after they learn how to talk, but frankly, he can't wait for that day to come, when he'll stop being able to rely on guesswork to tend to his daughter.

The past couple of days, Clementine's insisted on wearing some of the holiday-themed clothes Sawyer purchased for her. Namely, she won't let go of the fluffy Santa hat and red tutu he bought about a week back, using both hands to cling to the white fluff as she stumbles around. When the knock sounds on the door, Clementine shrieks, and nearly falls on her butt right in the middle of the living room. With a snort, Sawyer reaches over to pick her up, placing her on his hip before making his way over to the door.

Spotting Newt through the peephole, Sawyer roars with laughter and opens the door, stepping aside to let him in.

"Well, look who decided to visit," he remarks with a grin. Clementine's expression lights up immediately, and she throws both arms open in Newt's direction.

"New!" she smiles, hat drooping slightly down her forehead. "New-new!"

"Come on in. Christ, looks like you sure went to town at the mall. All of that for me?" Sawyer jokes, before reaching under the small, LED-lit tree in the corner of his living room for a small, but prettily wrapped box. Something about the sunglasses inside had screamed Newt for one reason or another. "Makes me feel a little self-conscious, forkin' over such a small box."