Kāhāhā
💚 Happy Birthday, PeonieRose! 💚
Synopsis: Ethan and Tatum finally take a vacation to Hawaii! But even though they try to escape all reminders of the hospital, they're in for a bit of a kāhāhā, er, a surprise.
Word count: ~2477
Warnings: fairly fluffy; language; an innuendo; Ethan's grumpiness
A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, @peonierose! You are such a ray of sunshine! I know I probably sound like a broken record, but seriously, that is the absolute best way to describe you. 🌞 Any chance I get to interact with you--even if it's just seeing one of your posts in passing, I can't help but feel your warmth and joy. I am so, so grateful that you are part of this community, and even more so, I am so grateful I get to call you friend. I hope you had the best 25th birthday ever! 😉 Sending you the warmest hugs, my OC sister! Love youuuuuu! 😘
A/N: This is an AU; some of the characters belong to our friends at Pixelberry; some of the characters belong to our birthday girl PR (who I am hoping will forgive me for attempting to write them 🤣). This work was not preread or beta'd; please excuse me errors.
~💚~
The peaceful morning sunrise blankets the island of Oahu with a warm pink glow. A gentle symphony of tranquil waves and the brush of palm fronds drift through the open balcony doors of the private beach-side bungalow. The soft fragrance of exotic florals infused with notes of the citrus sand pirouette across Ethan's face, the luxury of it all making him stir from his sleep.
Breathing in deeply, he contorts his bare body into an intense stretch, the tight burn sending pleasurable shocks through his nerves. With a heady growl in his chest, he lets out a yawn, relaxing back into his pillow. With his eyes fluttering close, he reaches over to the other side of the mattress, his fingertips searching for his wife.
He quickly sits up, noticing he was alone in bed. "Tate?" He calls out, a deep gravel in his throat. He looks around the room, but there is no evidence of her anywhere–that is until he hears soft mumbles coming from outside on the terrace. He climbs out of bed, cinching the sheet around his waist and saunters to the balcony.
Approaching the doorway, he sees that she's on the phone, a knee pulled up to her chest as she tosses her tangled tresses with her fingers. With a curious expression, he stealthily leans against the siding, crossing his arms as he intently watches his bride.
"... for about four minutes… uh-huh… right, and then it will play a little song… right… right…" Tatum gives a quiet, cordial laugh. Wearing her husband's waffle knit pajama top, she mindlessly fidgets with a loose thread at the hem as she continues to whisper. "I get it… thanks, again, Alan. Call me if he's still fussy after that bottle."
"We haven't even been gone for twenty-four hours–"
"Ethan!" Tatum startles, clenching her phone to her chest. She exhales a big breath, a faint blush tinting her cheeks.
"What are you doing?" He motions at the phone, his eyebrows furrowing. "We talked about this."
"I was… just… checking in," she feigns innocence.
"Tatum," Ethan sighs, slowly stalking to her chair, "we're supposed to be on vacation." He leans over her, their lips meeting in a tender kiss.
"We are on vacation–"
"And we trust Dad and the Aveiros with our son–"
"Yeah, but," she starts picking at her nails, "being on vacation doesn't mean we stop being parents, Ethan."
"I never said we stop," he leans up against the balustrade, folding his arms again. "Cord," a corner of his mouth curls as he stares out onto the beach. "Cord's my boy, my little bean sprout, he's… my everything. But, baby," he chuckles, blowing away a breath as he turns back to Tatum. "We need a break--especially you."
"I just miss him," Tatum twists her mouth, her eyes fixed on her husband’s crystal gaze. "It's weird. Our lives have changed so much since that little guy showed up."
"Almost eight months," Ethan smiles endearingly.
"But even before that," Tatum rubs her hands across the flat planes of her abdomen, "he was literally a part of me for nine months. I'm feeling a little…"
"Incomplete?"
Tatum shakes her head. Standing up, she takes a step towards Ethan, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You complete me, Mr. Ramsey," she croons, "but I do feel like I'm missing something. I guess," she titters under her breath, "I have forgotten what it's like to just be me, to just do what I want without planning ahead, without worrying about diapers and pumping and naptimes. I guess I'm having a hard time remembering life before Cord–ha!" she snorts, "B.C.! Get it?"
Ethan shakes his head before laughing to himself. "Well," his voice grows dark, "how about… I help you remember what it was like B.C.?"
"Yeah?" Tatum bites her bottom lip as her eyes train to Ethan's mouth. "And… how would you help me remember?"
Ethan wraps his arms around Tatum's waist, and without warning, he lifts her up, tossing her over his shoulder before giving her ass a firm swat.
"Ethan Jonah!" She squeals with glee before he jogs inside their bungalow.
—
Later that afternoon and feeling much more relaxed, the Ramseys decide to venture out and explore the island. Tatum slips on a smocked fuschia maxi dress with a pair of espadrilles and a floppy sun hat while Ethan dons a pair of khaki shorts with a sage green linen top, complete with his white Vans.
Casually walking hand-in-hand, they are drawn to the beautiful drumming of a group of Polynesian musicians outside an open market. They stop to admire the cultural beat, complete with awe-inducing twists and twirls of their mallets and several hula dancers with hypnotizing moves.
Tatum playfully sways her hips to the music, Ethan smiling and nodding to the beat–that is until two of the dancers place a lei around his neck before pulling him reluctantly out of the crowd to dance with them. He tries to maintain a stoic-look of displeasure, but as he looks back to his hysterical wife, he finally busts out laughing and starts to move his body clumsily along with the hula dancers.
When the dance comes to an end with a roaring applause, Ethan and Tatum stumble into each other, holding their aching bellies as they continue to laugh uncontrollably. It had been so long since they had been free of responsibilities, free of schedules and expectations, free to just be themselves as a couple.
Tatum hugs onto Ethan’s arm, their hands interlocking as they enter the open market. They stop at the different vendors, tasting new and exotic foods, watching local artisans design furniture, clothes and jewelry. One tent catches Ethan's eye with master carvers intricately cutting, sanding and sewing traditional Hawaiian weapons.
"These are really neat," Ethan cautiously holds up a knife, testing the sharpness of the blade. "What do you think? Cord's first knife," he jokes.
"Eh," Tatum swallows thickly, running her finger over an instrument with real shark teeth. "Maybe he should master his pincer grasp first. Or, I don't know, learn to walk?" They snicker between one another when suddenly, a colorful tent with art canvases catches Tatum's eye. "Rams, I'm going to look over there."
Already in a conversation with one of the craftsmen, Ethan nods while giving a wave to his wife.
Tatum moseys over to the tent, instantly taken aback by the artwork lined up along the walls and wooden easels. Brilliant splashes of color, expertly mixed and brushed, tell colorful secrets about the island.
"Aloha!"
Tatum looks deeper into the tent, noticing a young, beautiful blonde with gorgeous waves sitting at an art easel as she captures another story with her brush strokes. Tatum ducks into the canopy, noticing sculptures and stunning pieces of glass art everywhere.
"Aloha," Tatum smiles at the woman before turning back to look at all the beauty. "Did–did you create all of this?"
The young woman giggles, bowing her head coyly. "Yes, I did."
"It's exquisite work," Tatum continues to observe the various crafted pieces. "They're…" she stares off at a canvas with a kaleidoscope of colors forming waves crashing along the shoreline. "They're dreamy. "
"Well, thank you… Are you an art enthusiast?" The artist chuckles as she adds a new swipe of paint to her canvas.
"Oh," Tatum chuckles, "not really an enthusiast. I mean, I appreciate beauty when I see it." Tatum slows down, focusing on a stunning oceanic scene with iridescent jellyfish. She leans in, noticing the strokes and gradients of color.
"Hrmm," the blonde chuckles, putting down her paint brush. "Anyone that sees beauty in the world… is an artist."
Placing a hand on the back of her chair while steadying herself with a grip on her easel, she cautiously stands, balancing herself onto her feet. Noticing the struggle out of the corner of her eye, Tatum looks over–and gasps into a smile.
"Well, aren't you full of surprises!" Tatum titters, watching the young blonde place her hand on her heavily pregnant belly. "When are you due?"
"Oh gosh," she giggles, out of breath, "not for another seven weeks." Tatum's face drops, staring at her abdomen. "I know, I'm huge."
"What? No! I–I'm sorry," Tatum puts a hand over her face, "I didn't mean to make a face."
The blonde laughs harder, massaging her tummy. "Don't be. That's the reaction I normally get from people, and I don't blame them. I'm almost as wide as I am tall!" she jokes with a titter, "but I also don't get the chance to tell people there are two in there instead of one–"
"Twins?" Tatum’s eyes widen, her lips curling into a smile, "my goodness! Well, congratulations to you! And by the way," she becomes serious, "you look phenomenal."
She blushes, "thank you."
Tatum holds out her hand. "I'm Tatum."
The kind artist eagerly takes Tatum's hand. "Luna. Luna Auclair."
"Well, Luna Auclair," Tatum beams brightly, "is this your entire collection at the moment?"
"Not all of it," she twirls around, looking at her work. "I still have some pieces in storage, plus I have an art exhibit with some of my students tomorrow."
"You teach art, too?"
"Yes," Luna beams, "down at the university–"
"Tate?" Ethan calls from outside.
"I'm so sorry," Tatum holds up her hand apologetically to the interruption. "In here, Rams!" Tatum shouts walking towards the entryway of the canopy.
Ethan struts inside the tent, his eyes instantly intrigued by the swirls of color and intricate placement of designs. "Wow," he whistles with his teeth. He takes off his sunglasses as he begins to focus on a few canvases.
"Aren't they extraordinary?" Tatum bumps up next to him, her attention swept away in the paintings. Ethan hums in approval as he steps in front of the same beach design she had checked out minutes ago. "Do you like it?"
Ethan's eyes stay focused on the art nodding his head. "I do. I really do."
Tatum looks back, but realizes Luna has stepped away. She turns to Ethan, linking his arm with hers. "How about," her voice is soft, "this piece in the study? Or maybe the guest room?"
"No."
Tatum's eyebrows crinkle. "No?"
"No," Ethan tilts his head to his wife, "the playroom." The corner of Tatum's mouth curls as her husband continues. "This… this is Cord." He grins as Tatum nods, brushing her pout against his lips.
"I'm sorry I had to leave you like that," Luna waddles back in, "my fiancé called to let me know he's coming by."
"Oh wonderful," Tatum claps her hands together in joy. "Oh, Rams, this is Luna. She painted all of these pieces... And even designed these sculptures."
"Aloha," she coyly greets as Ethan holds his hand for her to shake.
"Aloha, Luna," he grins kindly. "Very nice work–"
"Nice?" Tatum playfully swats his arm, rolling her eyes at the younger blonde. "Don't believe him," she giggles. As she wraps her arm around his waist, he pulls her in by the shoulders.
"They are phenomenal," Ethan clarifies, "is it possible to have something shipped to the mainland?"
Luna nods. "You two vacationing?"
"Yes," Tatum answers. "We're from the East Coast."
"Oh wow," Luna's eyes widen, "a good ways from home–"
"Thank goodness," Ethan jokes under his breath. "I don't want to even look at something remotely related to work."
"Ethan is an administrator of sorts, a leader of our organization and," she glances at him innocently, "his patience gets tested. A lot. Plus, we haven't gone anywhere in…" Tatum looks curiously at Ethan.
He squints, looking up towards the sky as if calculating something in his head. "Eesh, well over a year. At least."
"No wonder you two got away," Luna shakes her head. "Your work sounds stressful."
Ethan looks at his wife, "That, and–" he smiles proudly, lacing his hand with hers, "we just had a baby."
"Awww!" Luna coos. "Boy or girl?"
"Boy."
Luna squeals. "Is he here?"
Tatum's face falls, Ethan squeezing her hand. "No, he's back home."
"Oh… I bet you miss him."
Tatum kindly smiles and nods. Ethan brushes his lips against her temple before answering. "We very much do… which is why… we are… looking at the art pieces."
"Right!" Luna chirps, snapping her fingers. "Is there something here that is speaking to you?"
Making their way around the showroom, Luna helps pick out a few canvases for Cord's playroom that also boast the essence of the Polynesian culture through the artwork. Returning to her clerical station in the tent, Luna begins carefully packing them up before pulling out paperwork.
"So, you said the East Coast," she starts filling out the document, "where specifically is this heading?"
"Boston."
"Oh my gosh, you're kidding me!" She giggles. "My fiancé–"
"Lunes?" A handsome voice calls out from behind the tent. "I gotcha a rainbow shaved ice."
Ethan feels a strange spike in his blood pressure, his expression falling with concern. "That voice," he mutters under his breath to Tatum. "I… I know that voice."
"Give me a second, B," Luna yells over her shoulder, tearing Ethan and Tatum away from their private conversation. "I'm with a customer." She turns her attention back to the transaction. "Okay, now… where was I? Oh!" She grabs a pen, "I just need your name–"
"Ethan Ramsey?"
Tatum and Ethan slowly look towards the voice, appearing behind the tarp before slowly turning to stare at one another.
Ethan gnashes his teeth in irritation, his jaw ticking. There standing in front of him is an old thorn in his side from Edenbrook, Dr. Bryce Lahela. "We…" he growls softly, "are over five thousand miles away from home. How in the fuck–"
"Ethan, fix your face. Right now–"
"Oh my God!" Luna squeals, her bright eyes staring at Ethan. "You're the Dr. Ethan Ramsey?"
"You have got to be kidding me," Ethan groans. Tatum pinches his side in warning as Luna bounds towards him, shaking his hand emphatically again.
"I've heard so many amazing things about you, sir."
Ethan freezes. "You–you have?" Tatum quirks an eyebrow, stifling a grin.
"Are you kidding me, Doc?" Bryce pipes up, slinking an arm around Luna. "You and Tanaka helped shape my career, made me tougher. I took a lot of scary chances in residency, but… you always believed in me, had my back."
Silence falls over the tent. Bryce and Luna both stare happily at Ethan with wide, toothy smiles and stars in their eyes, making the old mentor feel even more awkward. He looks to Tatum, compassion written on her face as she casually nods towards the couple.
Ethan sighs. He extends his arm to shake Bryce's hand; but instead of leaving it at that, Ethan pulls Bryce into a hug, giving him a few pats on the back.
"It's good to see you again, Lahela."
~💚~
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Mrs. Murphy's Basic Info
Name: Dorothea Rose Witt-Murphy
Nicknames: Dotty, (by her brother) Didi, (by her parents and brother) Thea
Age: 29, almost 30 at the time of her death, but would be 39, almost 40, if she was still alive
Date of Birth: April 7, 1923
Date of Death: March 20, 1953
Zodiac: Aries
Birthstone: Diamond
Nationality: French
Sexuality: Given the times, I'd say straight, but I think she'd most likely be pansexual or bisexual in the modern world
Born: Lot. le Florida, Sainte-Maxime, France
Past residence(s): Rue Riverin, Beaumont, Quebec, Canada
Current/Last known residence: Duffy Street, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
Occupation: Seamstress and baker (out of the home)
Schooling: Graduated at the top of her class from an all-girls high school
Talents/Skills: Painting, sewing. singing, embroidery, baking
Birth order: Oldest
Siblings: Thomas Pierre Witt (she is older by 7 years)
Parents: Philippe Arthur Witt and Amelie Louise Blanchet
Signature:
Height: 5’9” or 175cm
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Chocolate brown
Glasses or contact lenses: Reading glasses
Distinguishing features: Freckles, scar on her arm from an accident when she was younger (stole her cousin’s motorcycle and took off)
Mannerisms: Tucking paintbrushes into her hair and forgetting them there, biting the inside of her cheek when thinking, constantly correcting her posture when she feels she's been slouching for too long
Health: Asthma and ADHD
Hobbies: Singing, playing piano, painting, ballet
Greatest flaw (in their opinion): Stubborn and a perfectionist
Best quality (in their opinion): Protectiveness and optimism
Biggest fear: Her children dying before her and claustrophobia
Favorite ice cream: Chocolate chip or fudge ripple
Favorite color(s): Lavender and burgundy
Favorite number(s): 41 (the year she got married)
Favorite song(s): (You're The) Devil In Disguise by Elvis Presley, Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers, and Daydream Believer by The Monkees
A place they want to visit most: Hawaii, specifically Oahu
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