Not By the Manual
by misscam

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.

Author's Note: Set some undermined time in the future well after 2x22. For Sheena – happy birthday, my dear! Hope this fulfilled the prompt in a way you approve of. Thanks to Angie for beta.

II

Charming has faced many difficult tasks – facing a dragon, facing a dragon again, winning back a kingdom, surviving Snow pregnancy, making a family torn apart for 28 years somehow work, rescuing his grandson from another land – and through all of them he's had faith.

But with this task, he has no faith at all anymore. In fact, he's close to despair.

Prince Charming, defeated by IKEA. There's a fairytale without any happy ending and a very powerful villain. (A Swedish one, apparently.)

"How the hell am I meant to put this together when the pegs won't fit in the holes?" he grumbles and Snow gives him a stern look. Or tries to, anyway. He can see she is exactly the same issues with the part she's working on.

Who would have thought a crib would be this hard to put together? The damn IKEA manual is no help at all, making it look so easy with everything fitting together perfectly. He gives the manual a hard, disapproving glare and he can hear Snow's low chuckle.

Of course, Geppetto could have made them what they needed, but they never even got around to asking. Emma took them on a surprise visit to IKEA and after that neither he nor Snow had the heart to mention they had other options. To see Emma take an active part in planning for this new arrival to the family is too important to them. After all, this is Emma's future brother or sister.

The pregnancy was a bit of a surprise to everyone. Not completely, it's not like Snow and he were celibate (rather the opposite in fact, with true love and 28 years to make up for). But it wasn't planned. Definitely not planned, but that doesn't mean it was unwelcome after they got over the first shock.

In fact, he's spent many night awake after Snow has fallen asleep, caressing her stomach lovingly, just as he did when she was pregnant with Emma. Snow is glowing when she's not looking wistful and sad, and he knows that for all her concern about how Emma is coping with this and everything else, Snow is happy to have another child. She wants to be a mother; she loves to be a mother.

And Emma, Emma got out and got drunk with Hook over the news and then acted like everything was fine for several weeks. It clearly wasn't, but slowly, even Emma seems to be getting used to the idea. (Henry might have helped with that, all excitement over getting to be all big brother for what is actually his uncle or aunt.)

That's why they have to put this IKEA crib together. It's not just for their baby - it's for Emma too. They both desperately want her to feel loved, to feel a part of the family, to feel wanted just as much as they want this baby to feel wanted. And if Emma gets them a crib, then they're damn well going to use that crib even if it means staying up all night putting it together.

It may have to be all night, and he curses softly as the peg he's trying to jam in digs painfully into his palm instead. Snow doesn't even comment on his language and he can see that she too is becoming increasingly frustrated with this crib and supposed simple manual.

At least their bedroom has a bed to crash on if they need it, since they got a new bed as a housewarming gift from Ruby, Granny and the dwarfs. A new bed for a new house and a new start, in a way. They had to buy a house with the baby coming, but four people under the same roof was never ideal to begin with. It may be a good thing, all things considered.

It is a nice house, he has to admit. It has upstairs bedrooms for Emma and Henry, and a downstairs bedroom (which locks) for Snow and he as well as a room they're now making into a nursery. The yard feels too small to his shepherd's thinking, but since Henry and Emma found it agreeable he's decided it will do.

Belle has been by with bookshelves and children's books, Gold at her side and with a gift of a mobile of sheep and birds. Thomas and Cinderella have given them a few items Alexandra doesn't need anymore. Kathryn has been by too, glowing with her own pregnancy and offering awkward well-wishes that nevertheless seemed sincere. Even Regina has given a house-warming gift, a swing for the backyard. It's mainly for Henry. But when this baby is grown, he or she will be able to use it as well. It feels like another step, and for Henry's sake, for Snow's sake, he's happy about that.

He glances over at his wife as she makes a frustrated noise. There is no doubt his wife is pregnant. If the glow didn't give it away, her baby bump is starting to show now as well. The loose clothing she's starting to wear of late is rather telling too. Pregnant Snow, no doubt about it. She looks so lovely he finds himself just staring, the mysteries of IKEA construction not nearly as compelling.

"That's not in the manual, Charming," Snow comments as he keeps gazing. He smiles, scooting closer to where she's sitting on the floor and putting down the board and the pegs he's tried in vain to put together. No true love in that relationship, it seems like. "You're supposed to put the peg in the holes on your side and then we're meant to put these two boards together."

"Whoever made that manual didn't know you, or he would have include 'gazing lovingly' as a very necessary component," he counters and Snow tries in vain to hide a smile.

"Charming, Charming," she replies, looking up at him. He lifts a hand to her cheek, cupping it as she leans into the touch. She still looks frustrated, so he gently eases the board and the peg she's trying to fit into a much-too-small hole from her hands.

"Hey," he says, kissing her tenderly. "What's wrong?"

"How are we going to make this work?" she asks, biting her lip in a way that makes him want to kiss it better, and maybe even lick it much better.

"The IKEA manual?"

"No. This. Our life, our family. Emma, the baby, Henry wanting both Emma and Regina in his life, staying in Storybrooke when most of us want to return to the Enchanted Forest – how are we going to do all this?"

"I don't know," he admits. "There is no manual for this kind of thing. At least I haven't found any parenting manuals that cover trying to be parents to a daughter who is the same age as you while trying to raise a baby at the same time."

She laughs at the absurdness of that premise, and he laughs with her.

"Maybe we should make one," he suggests as her laughter dies, wanting to lure it back. "For everything non-IKEA, the Snow and Charming guide to..."

He doesn't get any further than that as she pulls his head down and crashes her lips onto his. His breath catches as she catches his lower lip between hers, nipping on it before brushing kisses along it.

"I don't think this is in the manual," he manages to say, but the moan he makes as she sucks on his lower lip she probably takes as an encouragement rather than a complaint.

"Should be," she murmurs against his lips, and he's in complete agreement. He angles his head to slant his mouth over hers as she parts her lips, her tongue meeting his. They kiss, kiss and kiss and drink each other in until they're both breathless.

"I love you," she says as she pulls back slightly, her voice uneven. Even if he knows that she does, even if he's heard it many times before, he still feels his heart leap at that sentiment. She loves him. Snow White loves him. His wife loves him. The mother of his child, the future mother of his children, loves him. Truly loves him, just as he truly loves her.

With her at his side, he thinks nothing is impossible. Not even IKEA furniture.

"I love you," he replies, cupping her cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before kissing her tenderly. As he shifts position to deepen the kiss further, something digs painfully into his thigh.

"Ow," he murmurs against her lips. He moves a hand under his thigh, pulling out the offender. "IKEA peg."

"That's not where it goes," she says, scraping her teeth over his lower lip.

"Mmm," he agrees, as she tugs at his lips and he's getting a pretty good idea where she'd like to go.

He pulls her to straddle him and she grinds her hips against his in response. He makes a noise low in his throat at that, slipping his hands inside her sweater to caress her skin. She arches into his touch, curving her back as he traces it. He loves the sensation of her skin against his palm, familiar and yet always a pleasure to map whether by touch or by kiss.

He moves his mouth to her earlobe, sucking lightly before moving to trace the curve of her ear with his tongue. He can hear her breath catch and feel her chest rise and fall with her body pressed against his.

"Charming," she whispers, and he pulls back to look at her. Her face is bright with desire and she looks at him through lowered eyelids and with parted lips. Pregnancy hormones probably have some part in that, he figures, but Snow has always been just as passionate in love as she is in so many other things. Not that he is complaining; far from it, in fact. More like the opposite.

"Snow," he says lovingly, brushing his thumb across her lips. As tempting as it is to continue this right here – wouldn't be the first time they've done it on a floor, and quite frankly, fuck IKEA – she is pregnant and there are more comfortable options.

She puts her arms around his neck and kisses him as he lifts himself off the floor. He lifts her too, putting one arm under her knee as she links her legs around his waist. Slowly, he begins carrying her towards their new bedroom. At least there isn't much furniture in the way to bump into, since they're setting up all the new and renovating the kitchen before moving in for good. There is the new couch though, which he of course manages to walk straight into.

Snow laughs into the kiss, and it's such a delightful sound he'd walk into another couch for it if he could. Instead he pauses to kiss her eagerly back while she laces her fingers through his hair. Her tongue meets his eagerly, and he can't help but grind against her even with them both fully dressed still.

Come to think of it, a couch is comfortable enough, he decides, and sits down on it with Snow now in his lap. As they keep kissing, he draws his hands up and down her thighs before curling his fingers into her sweater. She lifts her arms as he begins to pull it off her, breaking the kiss only for as long as it takes to get the sweater over her head before eagerly seeking his lips again.

He discards the sweater on the couch arm before lifting his hands to the back of her bra. He unhooks it easily enough (practice and nimble fingers help) and she pulls it off herself and just tosses it away without much care where it lands. He chuckles at that, as always finding her impatience amusing and a turn-on at the same time.

She bites down on his lower lip as he cups a breast, feeling the weight of it in his hand. Her nipple hardens as he softly rubs it between his thumb and finger before circling it until she moans impatiently. She's pulling at his shirt, he realizes, and he breaks the kiss to allow her to pull it off him. Before she can kiss him again, he lowers his mouth to her other breast and his shirt just ends up dropped by his feet.

Snow leans her head on his as he kisses, nibbles and sucks, letting him hear all the noises she's making. If he wasn't painfully hard already, those would do it, he's pretty sure. But that does remind him pants are still on them both, and that just won't do.

Snow laughs softly he lifts her up again, the lowers her down on the couch. She watches him as he pulls the loose pants off her, then kneels down by her. Gently, he touches the curve of her stomach. He marvels at the feel of it, testifying that a child is growing in there. Their child, their son or daughter, their second-born.

Snow smiles at him, then gasps as he lowers his hand further and slips it inside her underwear. The angle makes it slightly awkward, but nimble fingers still manage well and her head falls back as he draws his fingers up and down and then slides inside her. She presses down against his hand, moaning his name and he smiles. He loves all the way she says his name – the name she gave him – but he has to admit this particular way might be his favorite.

"Charming," she says again, lifting her head and kissing him hard despite the awkward angle. "Get undressed."

"Is that in the manual?" he teases and another hard kiss is his reply, which he takes as a 'hell yes'. But then, he doesn't go by manuals, he's decided. Nope.

So he smiles into the kiss, pressing his thumb against the bundle of nerves and enjoying the way her lips part against his breathlessly. With his free hand, he pulls her underwear off, leaving it on top of her sweater. He keeps his fingers inside her while doing so, watching the flush in her cheeks as he moves them gently in and out.

Her head falls back again, and he gently lifts one of her legs onto his shoulder. Slowly, he kisses a trail up her inner thigh, pulling her towards him and then he lowers his head between her legs. She whimpers at the first flick of his tongue and then proceeds to make a number of different noises as he uses his tongue and even his teeth very softly on her, every now and then adding a finger or two.

"Charming," she pleads, gasping. He can feel the tension building in her body, and then she shudders and comes. He loves watching her so lost to pleasure, so he sits up on the couch again and pulls her against him. As she tries to regain her breath, he kisses the flush in her cheeks.

"You don't follow instructions very well," she tells him after a few moments, trying to look stern but a smile tugging at her lips.

"Nope," he agrees merrily. "I'm not an IKEA kind of guy."

She chuckles, kissing the underside of his jaw before pulling away and standing up. He watches her fondly, as always finding Snow in simply skin far more beautiful than in any ball gown.

She sits down between his legs, her hands moving to the zipper of his jeans. The expression on her face makes him swallow.

"If you can't follow instructions, I will have to take matters into my own hands," she tells him, flashing him a wicked smile. He can only nod, helping her by lifting himself up to allow her to pull the jeans off him, then his underwear. She does take the matter into her own hand then, pumping lightly, and he moans her names and digs his fingers into the cloth of the couch.

She keeps moving her hand up and down the length of him, and it's making him light-headed. He tries to focus on his breathing, but that proves almost impossible when he feels her tongue against the head. It serves as a good warning to brace himself though, as moments later she takes him in her mouth.

"Snow," he pleads, not really expecting mercy since he gave her none. And sure enough, she only smiles and continues. He clenches his jaw and balls his fists and fights to hold on by what feels like his fingertips, the sensation of her mouth on his flesh deliriously wonderful. "Snow, please..."

His tone must have done something, because she stops suddenly. He opens his eyes to see her standing up, then moving to straddle him. He kisses her as she sinks down onto him, and they both moan into the kiss. Her breasts brush against his chest as she rocks back and forth on him, and he lets her set the pace. He just kisses her leisurely, caressing her skin and every now and then dipping his fingers down to tease her.

She clenches her muscles around him to tease him right back, and he growls at that. He's not going to last very long, he knows. Not this time, not like this, not with Snow in this mood. So he doesn't try to, thrusting into her in sharp, fast strokes as their kiss becomes more insistent too.

He falls back against the couch cushions as he comes, Snow falling against him a moment later. He holds her while they both recover, kissing her shoulder when he's regained his breath.

She puts her arms on his shoulders and lowers her forehead against his, and they sit like that for several minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being close. He thinks he might enjoy this part of it almost as much as the sex, this intimacy after where it feels like just him and Snow.

"What are we going to do about this IKEA crib then?" she finally asks and he kisses her softly.

"We'll put the crib together our way," he says firmly and Snow smiles.

"Not by the manual, Charming?" she teases, rubbing her nose against his.

"No," he says, lowering his hands to her hips and using his thumb to stroke the edges of her stomach. "We've never done anything by the manual. Why start now?"

"Says the prince who married a bandit."

"Says the princess who married a shepherd."

She smiles at that, and he kisses her again. Yes, this is going to work, he decides. They made it work then, they'll make it work now. The bandit, the shepherd, the daughter their own age, the baby on the way, the grandchild with two mothers, the extended family that would make anyone dizzy, the IKEA crib. They'll make it work, even if it's not in the manual.

II

It's later in the day when Emma comes by to see the progress on the house, and finds them in the nursery putting up the mobile.

"Emma!" Snow says happily, moving to hug their daughter. Emma looks confused, Charming notices, staring at the crib in the middle of the room. He's rather proud of it, actually, all things considered. It required some creative solutions to put it together, but he and Snow managed in the end.

"How did you put it together?" Emma asks, as Snow pulls away.

"We just followed the manual," Charming says, not bothering to mention just how much trouble they had with it and the fact that they discarded the manual altogether. Emma doesn't need to know that. He'd never hear the end of it. Defeated by IKEA, that doesn't look good on a princely resume.

"Yeah, but you must have used the pegs and the screws for the bookshelf," Emma says, brow furrowed. She holds out a plastic bag filled with pegs and screws. "That's why I came by. You left this in my car."

Snow meets his gaze and they look at each other for a moment, then break into laughter. Emma stares at them in confusion, brow furrowed in a way that he knows is just like his when he's confused.

"I guess that means we're putting up the bookshelf without a manual," he says when he's managed to stop laughing. Snow leans against him, still laughing softly.

"You didn't follow the manual?" Emma asks, looking at them. Then she suddenly breaks into a smile and it's so lovely he feels almost breathless. "Good. I hate manuals. I never go by them myself."

"Yeah," he says, smiling at his daughter and taking his wife's hand and feeling like all is suddenly right in his world and wrong in the manual. "That seems to be a bit of a family tradition."

FIN