It’s A Girl (SuperWood Ficlet, Harkstiel, K)

jazzforthecaptain:

Jack sashayed across the alley on his toes, kicking up a miniature dust storm. He whirled with a rowdy whoop to his nonplussed companion, standing unmoved in the shade of ivy-draped eaves a few steps away.

“It’s a girl!” Jack crowed. He clapped his phone closed.

Castiel’s bland blue eyes squeezed in confusion. “What is?”

“The baby! Martha Jones has a daughter!” Jack’s voice swelled. He was suddenly in Castiel’s space, clapping a hand to his cheek with a little shake for emphasis.

“You were expecting a boy?” Castiel asked. Humans were always so jubilant about their infants. Castiel thought human young fascinating and precious, but sometimes the level of enthusiasm seemed disproportionate. Then again, it was Jack. His enthusiasm for everything was usually disproportionate.

Jack pulled a face. “Well, she is half Mickey’s. He’s just obstinate enough to insist on a boy.”

Castiel tipped his head. There was that, as well – infant genetics were a gamble of odds without outside interference on the divine level. And yet humans inevitably blamed any number of unrelated events for everything from eye color to height to a propensity for 3 a.m. screaming fits.

“She’ll be just like her mother,” Jack declared, “she’ll be fabulous!”

“It’s a bit early for expectations,” Castiel protested. He, for example, would have appreciated some options before being assigned Thursdays and – frankly – the Winchesters.

“What else are expectations for?” Jack bantered, scooped his arm behind Castiel’s back and swung him in a circle. It wasn’t a new thing, and Castiel spun like a dancer to follow. Neither was the boisterous attendant kiss a new thing, which he was happy to indulge.

“Congratulations, Jack,” Castiel said afterward. In the face of such magnetic joy, even his usual sobriety couldn’t stand, and he found himself smiling. Jack accepted the congratulations as if he’d made the baby personally for Martha and Mickey.

“They’ve named her Tosha,” he said, and took a slow breath. His smile flickered. Castiel scuffed his cheekbone with a thumb and left him the silent space. Then with a bounce like a startled horse, Jack was off down the alley after their quarry.

After a moment – and maybe a smile, he was yet unaccustomed to the expression – Castiel hurried to take up the spot at Jack’s side.

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