She loved the way her toes went pink when the snow soaked through her shoes and her favorite red socks, and stained her feet.

It was Christmas Eve again, and she felt the bristles of their Christmas tree against her back as she climbed down from the window at the sound of her daddy’s voice.

“Eggnog, baby girl,” he said, offering her a little plastic cup. He turned and passed a second cup to their guest.

Rachel beamed at him, still chattering on excitedly about how quickly she planned to get back to work, only stopping mid-sentence to sniff her cup and fix Blaine with an accusing look. “Is this virgin?”

Blaine’s brow shot up to his hairline. “No, Rach, I just gave my five-year-old daughter and my very pregnant surrogate loaded eggnog.”

She rolled her eyes, adjusting herself awkwardly and trying to work around her giant belly. “Just checking, god.”

Layla scampered to the couch and climbed up next to Rachel, somehow miraculously not spilling a drop. “It’s my favorite!” she announced brightly, taking a swig and then promptly deadpanning, her eyes wide.

The moment Blaine’s back was turned she spat back into her cup, just in time to stop Rachel from sipping hers.

Layla leaned over, cupping a hand to her mouth to whisper. “Don’t do it!”

Rachel fixed her with an amused and quizzical expression.

“It’s my favorite when Dad makes it,” she clarified.

Rachel’s lips pressed together and she barely managed to stop from laughing aloud. A sharp pain caught her off guard, and she hissed under her breath, pushing a hand into her lower back to try and alleviate it.

“Are you okay, Rachel?” Layla asked, blinking up at her.

She nodded. “Fine, sweetie, I’m fine.”

Blaine glanced over to them from the piano stool, sheet music in hand. “Everything alright?”

Rachel nodded, wincing as she shifted again. “It’s fine. It’s just your impossible offspring can’t sit still any more than you can.”

Blaine grinned and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand.

“One more week,” Rachel said. “One more week and you, miss,” she wrapped an arm around Layla, “will have a baby brother, and I will begin the journey to my triumphant return to the stage!” She swept her hand through the air as she spoke, still clutching her cup of untouched eggnog. “Plus it’s very good luck to have a New Year’s baby.”

“Really?” Layla stared at her in wonder. “Wow.”

“Mm-hmm, and when-” Her words broke off as she flinched again, pushing her hand further into her back.

Blaine watched quietly from the stool, eyes flicking to the clock.

“When,” Rachel went on, “your dad gets home, we can look up all the famous stars who were born on New Year’s day, and your birthday, too.”

Layla clapped her hands in delight.

“When are they getting back?” Rachel asked, hear head lifting to look at Blaine.

“It’s a few hours drive,” Blaine said, eyes still fixed on the clock. “Burt said they’d be at Finn’s till eight.”

When Rachel flinched again, Blaine actually looked mildly panicked. “Um, Rach?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure those aren’t…” Blaine waved a hand in the air at her vaguely. “You know.”

She raised her brow. “What?”

He tipped his head to the side, eyes avoiding her. “Con… tractions?”

There was a long pause before Rachel laughed, her voice a little higher than usual. She stopped after a moment, and Layla and Blaine both stared at her blankly before she started laughing again. “No. No. No, I mean,” she babbled, setting down her eggnog on the side table. “No. Just … no.”

“So ‘no’, then,” Blaine clarified jokingly.

She glared. “I know what contractions feel like, I have done this before.”

Blaine raised his hands defensively. “I’m sorry it’s just, they’re fairly,” he gestured to the clock, “evenly spaced.”

“What’s con-stractions?” Layla asked, eyes flicking between the two of them.

“Contractions,” Blaine corrected. “Means the baby is coming.”

“The baby is coming,” Rachel repeated, eyes wide.

“That’s what I said,” Blaine laughed, confused.

“No, I mean…” Rachel waved both hands in the air frantically. “I think, oh my god. I know I said they weren’t but considering I think I just ruined your three thousand dollar couch I think we can safely say the baby is coming.”

“Oh…” Blaine froze. “Oh. Oh! Oh, my god.” He scrambled off his stool, burrowing through both pockets for his phone.

Layla’s face lit up like a Christmas tree, and she bounced off the couch and started dancing around in circles singing the baby’s coming, the baby’s coming! as loud as she could.

“Sweetie, have you been going to those singing lessons I gave you for your birthday?” Rachel asked, cocking her head.

“Now, Rachel? Really?” Blaine asked exasperatedly as his phone dialed. “Kurt? Kurt!” he shouted into the handset. “The baby- Rachel – I mean we’re… She’s… Early! There’s-”

“Spit it out, honey,” Kurt’s voice came down the line.

“We’re having a baby!”

“We’re – wait, what?” Kurt answered. “Did you just say we’re having a baby?”

“Yes!” Blaine shouted. “You gotta get home, as soon as you can!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, Horatio,” Kurt scolded excitedly, and Blaine couldn’t help the grin on his face at the sounds of Burt and Carole chattering excitedly in the background.

“She’s had her bags ready since she came to stay with us, you know how she is,” Kurt went on. “Just put them in the car. You know how fast labor was last time, so get her to the hospital and we’ll get there are soon as we can.”

“Okay!” Blaine chirped back. “Oh, and we need a new couch.”

“Oh my god, what-”

“Worry about it later, see you soon! Love you!” Blaine switched off his phone quickly and pocketed it, rushing to help Rachel off the now alarmingly wet couch and helping her to the bathroom to clean up.

Layla trailed behind them, and hovered by the bathroom door as Blaine rushed to find Rachel’s bags in the guest room and carry them out to the car. He made it as far as the doorstep before he stopped dead, dropping both bags at once.

The car was practically buried, and he couldn’t see the street.

“Oh this is…” He ran both hands through his hair. “This is not good.”

Right on cue, his phone trilled weakly in his pocket.

“Kurt?” he answered it, covering his other ear with his hand. It was Burt’s voice that came down the line.

“Bla–ne – we – sno – in. Can’t g– home.”

“What?”

“Kurt’s looking – anoth – get – home, road’s closed. Just – and take ca – chel. Get her to – spital.”

“We’re snowed in!” Blaine shouted back down the line, only to be greeted by beeps as the call cut off. “Oh god, oh crap.”

With a deep sigh, he gathered the bags and pulled them back through the heavy front door. He reached the living room just as Rachel waddled back out in a clean dress. “Wh- what are you doing? The bags go in the car, Blaine.”

“Change of plans,” Blaine said, setting them down by the door.

The smile that Rachel found was so, so familiar – that patented Berry smile that basically said you’re not doing what I want you to do, and this just won’t work for me. “While I greatly appreciate your dedication to performance in all things, Blaine, this is not really an area where improvisation is encouraged.”

Blaine fixed her with a hesitant look and worried his lip with his teeth for a moment, eyes narrowing as he considered his options. “Do you want the good news, or the bad news, or the really bad news?’

“Good news,” Rachel snapped.

“You’re having a baby!” Blaine tried to make it sound exciting.

“Nice try,” Rachel managed through her teeth as another contraction hit, and she braced herself on the couch. “Bad news?”

“Kurt’s snowed in at Finn’s, I think the roads are closed,” Blaine admitted gently.

“And?”

“So are we.”

Rachel smiled, eye twitching. “That’s … wonderful.”

With a sympathetic grimace, he closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her over to the unsoiled side of the couch. She groaned again, clutching at her stomach, and Blaine’s eyes flew to the clock. This was going way, way too fast for his liking.

“Okay, okay, it’s alright, we’ll figure something out.” He tried for a soothing tone of voice, but the high pitch betrayed his panic.

“Nine one one!” he announced suddenly as he straightened. “An ambulance should be able to get through, hang on.”

He tossed his cell phone on to the side table and found the landline, dialling quickly. “Ambulance,” he instructed.

Rachel tapped her foot and rocked slightly, both hands cradling her belly as Layla wandered up beside her. The little girl dropped an armful of star-printed sheets and disappeared again, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand.

“Yes, my – friend – is in labor we need an ambulance,” Blaine said quickly, rattling off their address and pausing to listen. “Yes. Oh. Uhuh. Thanks.” He switched off the phone and stared at it for a second.

“So … all the roads are closed,” he said lightly.

“Fantastic,” Rachel hissed. “That’s just. SUPER.”

“They’ll get here as soon as hey can,” he insisted, controlling his voice carefully. With a few steps he wandered around the couch and knelt down in front of her, rubbing at her arms affectionately and taking both hands. “We’ll be okay. It’s Christmas. We’ll be fine.”

“Of course we will. A lot of starlets had home births,” Rachel insisted brightly, her eye still twitching. “Demi Moore. Meryl Streep. Cindy Crawford had both her children at hoo-hoooome!” She groaned out the last word loudly, tipping forward in her seat.

Blaine whimpered at the crushing grip currently locked firmly around his fingers.

Layla reappeared quietly with some more sheets and towels, dropping them on top of the others and sitting down to browse over her piece of paper again.

“You should be lying down,” she insisted suddenly.

Rachel blinked at her. “What?”

Blaine finally noticed the stack of sheets and towels, and the piece of paper in Layla’s hand. “What’s that sweetie?”

“Instructions I found on the internet,” she said casually. “You should lie down, with pillows.”

Rachel exchanged a startled look with Blaine.

“It says so,” she insisted, waving the instructions at them.

Not willing to argue, Rachel scooted forward on the couch and lay back as Blaine quickly adjusted the cushions behind her for support. “What’s next?”

Layla climbed to her feet, pulling down the pile of sheets and opening one out over the soiled couch cushions. “Turn her this way,” she instructed firmly, and Blaine helped Rachel twist to lie across the couch just as another contraction hit.

Once Rachel’s grunting noises were over again, Layla waved a hand at both of them. “And take her panties off.”

Blaine froze.

Rachel looked up at him expectantly. After a long pause, Blaine gestured to wait just another minute, and Rachel and rolled her eyes.

“Blaine Warbler I am giving birth to your child right now, man up or so help me I will-”

“Alright, alright!” Blaine shifted to the other end of the couch, blindly reaching up the sides of Rachel’s dress and hooking her underwear to pull them off. “Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Layla ignored him. “We have blankets to clean the baby when he gets here.”

“Sweetie,” Blaine interrupted, his eyes narrowed at the star-printed sheets spread across the couch. “These are your favorites.”

“Of course they are,” Layla said simply.

“You know they’ll get ruined?” Rachel asked.

“It doesn’t matter, I want him to see something pretty when he comes out,” Layla said, as if it made perfect sense. She returned her attention to the paper in her hands.

Blaine smiled at her adoringly, and reached out a hand to hold her shoulder before the phone rang violently and he all but jumped out of his skin. He scrambled to answer, pressing the handset to his face. “Kurt? Carole! Hi.”

Rachel bit her lip through another contraction as Blaine sat back on the coffee table, answering yes and no every few moments.

“I called the ambulance, they’re trying to get out now,” he explained. “Ye- yes. We have sheets and towels. And she’s comfortable, Rach you’re comfortable?”

She groaned. “As comfortable as I can be with a four hundred pound warbler barreling out of me!” she shouted.

“She’s comfortable,” Blaine summarised.

“That’s great, sweetheart, you’re doing great. Now, you need to check and see how far she’s dilated,” Carole advised softly.

“Oh,” Blaine shrugged. “Okay, is there like – something in the kitchen I can use or-”

“No, no, Blaine, sweetie,” she cut him off, “you need to use your hand.”

“My-" Blaine blinked. “Wait, what?”

He could hear Kurt’s voice in the background: OH MY GOD.

"I have to check her ... with my hand?" Blaine asked slowly, trying to get his mind around the concept.

“Oh my god,” Rachel echoed, burying her face in her hands.

“No, no, I can do this,” Blaine insisted, and got to his feet, rushing to the bathroom to wash his hands as thoroughly as possible. He heard the click switch in the earpiece, and knew Carole had put him on speakerphone.

“We’re trying to get home as soon as we can, honey,” she said. “We’re in the car, but we’ve got a good signal now and the roads are being cleared. I can stay on the line as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” Blaine said genuinely, making his way back out to the living room and stepping around his daughter. “Layla, sweetie, go hold Rachel’s hand?”

She nodded and sprang into action, curling up against Rachel’s side and seizing a hand fiercely in both of her own.

He listened carefully as Carole guided him through it, trying his best to keep his expression neutral and mostly failing while he checked her cervix.

“Oh, oh-ho no, you think you’re uncomfortable right now?” Rachel cried, swatting uselessly at him and grunting through another wave. “This your fault! You did this to me!”

“Technically a turkey baster did this to you,” Blaine quipped as he wiped his hand on the towels.

“Not the time, Blaine,” he heard Kurt call out in the background through the earpiece.

“She’s at 10,” Blaine told them. “Is that good or b-” his voice cut of as Rachel screeched and lurched on the couch with another contraction.

“That’s what I was for Layla!” she shouted through gritted teeth.

“Oh crap,” Blaine juggled the phone where he’d almost dropped it and pressed it back to his ear. “Carole? CAROLE. I think the baby’s coming!”

“Yes, sweetie.” She was trying not to laugh at the half-excited, half-terrified tone in his voice, but Blaine didn’t hear it. “Can you put me on speaker? You need both hands.”

He glanced down at the phone for a second and found the right button, pressing it and handing the phone to Layla.

“Okay, now you need to get between her legs, honey, to deliver the baby,” Carole explained carefully, ignoring the strange squawking noise that no doubt came from Kurt in the background.

“Babies that come this fast usually deliver nice and easy, okay? When the next contraction hits, Rachel honey, you have to push. Blaine just guide him out, really carefully, and make sure you support him.”

“Oh my god, oh my god,” Kurt’s voice echoed, followed by the soft mumbling sounds of Burt trying to calm him down.

Rachel pushed, screeching and grunting viciously as she propped herself up on her elbows with Layla still coiled around her and stroking her hair.

“I can see the head!” Blaine announced giddily, eyes wide and slightly mortified but still filled with wonder. “Holy crap, he has a huge head! Rach how the fuck are you doing this?”

“Children present!” Rachel grunted.

“Oh, he’s allowed to use bad words today, so are you,” Layla offered, patting at Rachel gently.

“Oh, good,” Rachel gasped, panting and exhausted.

“Another big push honey, you ready?” Carole’s voice crackled from the speaker.

Rachel’s ‘yes’ was mostly a grunted scream as she pushed hard, and her entire body tensed. “CURSE THE DAY I MET YOU KURT ELIZABETH HUMMEL!”

Suddenly, a round of wailing cries filled the room.

“I’ve got him!” Blaine announced loudly, his voice breaking.

“Oh thank god,” Kurt breathed a loud sigh of relief through the speaker, and Burt cheered in the background.

“I just delivered a baby!” Blaine said breathlessly in disbelief, cradling the mess of screaming, gooey infant to his chest. “I just delivered a baby!”

“That’s GREAT Blaine,” Rachel groaned, slapping her hand into the couch with every following word. “I. AM. SO. HAPPY. FOR. YOU.”

“Oh god, shit, sorry Rach,” he lifted the baby up, careful of the umbilical cord, so she could see.

Layla’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t think he’s done yet, can you put him back in?”

“Blaine, sweetie, you need to clean him off as carefully as you can, okay?” Carole piped in, and Blaine shifted quickly to grab another sheet.

“Got it,” Blaine said, and then laughed loudly. “And clean her off.”

“What?!” Kurt, Rachel and Layla shouted in unison.

“It’s a girl!” Blaine chirped as he wiped the wailing baby down, careful of her mouth and eyes.

“Geez, she’s got a set of lungs on her,” Burt said.

“Excellent,” Rachel sighed with a smile.

“Rachel, honey, you need to get ready for the afterbirth. Blaine don’t cut the cord yet, okay, they’ll take care of that when they get there,” Carole instructed. “Now, run your fingers down from the bridge of her nose to her nostrils really carefully, clear out any fluid.”

Blaine did as he was told immediately, wiping gently at her face. “Wow,” he breathed as he stared down at her, still grinning from ear to ear despite the numbingly loud screaming.

“Nose!” Rachel cried, hands suddenly flying into the air. “Show her to me! Show me!”

Startled, Blaine lifted the baby up again, and Rachel inspected her for a moment before collapsing back with a giant smile. “Oh, thank god.”

“What’s happening?” Burt asked.

“Same thing happened with Layla, she’s just making sure the baby didn’t get her nose,” Kurt explained.

The whoop of an ambulance siren sounded loudly from the front of the house, and Blaine’s head shot up. “They’re here!”

“Wonderful, oh,” Carole gushed. “That’s wonderful – they’ll take it from here, and we’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?”

“Okay, Layla sweetie – go unlock the door?” Blaine asked, and Layla put down the phone on the coffee table before she scurried away quickly.

“We’ll meet you at the hospital!” Blaine agreed, and Rachel smiled at him sleepily. He let out a rough breath. “Kurt?”

“I’m here! I’m here,” Kurt’s voice got closer to the phone.

“We have another little girl,” Blaine said, staring down at the baby tucked against his chest.

Kurt’s voice was shaky on the other end of the line. “Yes, we do.”

*

The three of them pressed against the viewing glass together, eyes lingering over the tiny ball of sleeping infant in the plastic cot beyond.

“What about Amelia?” Blaine offered, glancing at his husband. “After mom.”

“Middle name,” Kurt conceded. “Maybe. But she still needs a first name.”

“Middle name works,” Blaine agreed.

“She’s so pretty,” Layla breathed. She was perched on Kurt’s hip, her head tucked against his shoulder.

“She’s beautiful,” Blaine agreed. “Just like you.”

Kurt kissed his daughter’s forehead. “I’m so proud of you, Layla.”

She smiled, curling a fist around the edge of his jacket.

“You were so good today, I couldn’t have done it without you.” Blaine reached out a hand and poked at her playfully. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said nonchalantly. “I think I should get to name her.”

Kurt exchanged a look with his husband. “Really?”

“Well there’s an idea,” Blaine said.

“What would you call her, sweetie?” Kurt asked.

“Christmas! She was born on Christmas, after all.”

Kurt winced.

“Or,” Layla said softly. “Belle.”

Blaine arched an eyebrow at her, slipping an arm around Kurt’s waist to pull them both closer. “Like the princess?”

“No, it’s from A Christmas Carol,” she explained softly. “Even mean old Ebenezer fell in love with Belle. So she must have been very beautiful.”

Kurt looked to Blaine, a soft smile curling at the edge of his mouth. “Belle Amelia Anderson-Hummel?”

Blaine grinned. “It has a nice ring to it.”

Quiet fell across the hallway, and after a moment, Blaine brushed his nose through Kurt’s hair, and kissed his temple softly. “Merry Christmas,” he breathed.

Kurt smiled. “That’s one hell of a Christmas present.”

“I made it myself,” Blaine added with a smirk.

With a rough laugh, Kurt adjusted Layla on his hip. “Well, I love it.”

“Me too,” Layla chimed in.

Kurt swayed against Blaine’s shoulder as silence fell again, and they pressed in to each other, soaking in the warmth and the feeling of having the three of them together again, at last.

Actually, make that four.