Initially, it is a very short conversation; a rapid exchange of wishes and a declining to meet them. Two already seemed an excessive choice, albeit a biologically sound one. Three would be downright ridiculous.
But, as with most things truly dear to the heart, her wife simply will not concede, and eventually, the dominatrix grows bored with their mundane proceedings of that same conversation rendered in a hundred different scenarios. It is not a promise, she reminds once more, even as they pull up outside the adoption center. Don’t grow attached.
Jonas is five, Jane is instantly enamoured, and Irene quietly curses herself for this lapse in judgement.
They bring him to the nearby aquarium on their first outing, tiny hand clasped in Jane’s far stronger one, a skip to every step as wide eyes roam across each creature in turn. “That’s a nurse shark!”, is one of many quite correct observations. Out of sheer protest, she elects not to look.
Eventually, of course, Bond must take a call, excusing herself and thus effectively leaving child and the human equivalent of a bored housecat alone.
She later denies as much – but Irene is pleased with the knowledge he carries, and intrigued to see how far it spans. They fall into conversation concerning the nearby lesser-spotted dogfish, and it is those ridiculous maternal instincts that has her picking the small child up once the catshark swims out of sight for him.
When Jane returns fifteen minutes later, it is to the sight of Irene Adler, tall stilettos and immaculate appearance, holding their future son in her arms, his little head pressed against her shoulder, quite obviously rather comfortable, given that he is now fast asleep.
@msjanebond
