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Daddy's Kisses

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Title: Daddy's Kisses

Type of Story: Long Fic

Genre: Romance/Drama

Main Characters: Jack and Martha

Rating: T (D)

Summary: Following the undying love of Jack and Martha throughout the years...

This is my first attempt so please be gentle with me! I also apologise as it takes a while to get going but please stick with it! Also as another warning it's actually a pretty long story as a whole, sorry! Hope you like it!

Chapter One

Jack looked down at his sleeping wife cradled in his arms. Well, one of his arms anyway. Her whole weight was on his left arm and it had completely gone to sleep. Trying to prise his beloved wife off though was proving to be a trickier challenge than first thought. Martha was eight and a half months pregnant with their first child and while they were both unbelievably excited about the momentous event waiting for them in just a couple of weeks, right now Jack would give almost anything to get her and their baby’s combined weight off his poor arm! Sensing his difficulty a sleepy Martha opened her bleary eyes and moved slowly off her husband’s arm much to his relief! Cradling his tingling arm close to chest he enveloped his wife and her baby bump in a one arm hug with his good arm and drifted back into a peaceful sleep. Martha however, after being rudely awakened by her husband and unable to get comfortable again without his arm for a pillow waited patiently for his breathing to slow, a sure sign he was back in the land of nod before gently sliding his arm off her stomach and climbing with increasing difficulty out of bed. As she stretched she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror on their wardrobe and smiled. They had come through so much together in the past eighteen months; the baby bump was sure sign of that as was the twinkling wedding band on her left hand, mirrored on her husband’s. Martha shot a look at her sleeping husband and grinned he looked unbelievably sweet as he slept, so peaceful. She sincerely hoped that if their baby turned out to be a little boy he would look just like his daddy. It never ceased to amaze her how much time she could spend just gazing at him. The feeling of absolute joy hadn’t faded yet and she prayed it never would. He was gorgeous, unbelievably gorgeous; she couldn’t believe that out of all the women in the world he had chosen her, chosen her to be his wife, the mother of his children, and his partner in crime! Giving her belly a quick rub and pulling down the hitched up pyjama top, she grabbed a discarded sweatshirt of Jack’s off the growing pile on the dressing table chair and snuck quietly off to the kitchen.

As she padded out to the kitchen she passed the door of the room Jack was in the throes of decorating as a nursery. It had become his pet project and she had pretty much left him too it. Her pregnancy had taken a lot out of her and she was often too tired to do anything at the end of the day but collapse on the sofa snuggled up with Jack and some brand of hot drink. The nursery was beautiful, fresh and clean. The walls a pale creamy yellow with matching accessories, a beautiful pale pine cot and furniture and an old-fashioned rocking chair completed the room. Martha could not wait for the room to be filled with their precious baby, a perfect addition to their little family. As she stood there in the doorway gazing at Jack’s handiwork, a sharp pain shot across her stomach and lower back, enough to make her gasp in shock. In a moment it was gone leaving Martha rubbing gently at her protruding abdomen with a pained expression on her face. Stupid Braxton Hicks contractions, no matter how many she experienced the shock and panic that ran through her mind never seemed to go away. While she couldn’t wait for the day to come when she could meet her baby face to face, she could wait a lifetime without going into labour. The truth was she was scared, absolutely and completely petrified. After witnessing her friend Tasha’s difficult labour and delivery with her daughter Ella it was enough to put Martha off for life, yet here she was just weeks away from going through it herself. At least she had Jack. Another twinge shot across Martha’s lower back and she emitted a low groan, rubbing furiously at her back, but as quick as it came it disappeared. Letting out a long sigh of relief, Martha turned and continued into the kitchen.

The day passed with little interest. After Jack had left for work Martha had gone into ‘nesting’ mode and tidied and re-tidied their whole house, the lounge, kitchen, nursery, and bedroom. Throughout the day Martha had experienced these sharp pains and yet she largely ignored them, able to breathe sharply and get through the pain with few problems. However as lunch time came and went and with the afternoon almost over Martha was in increasing pain. Crouched on the floor now and breathing heavily as the pains came every few minutes desperately trying to get the energy to get to the phone. ‘Where’s Jack when you need him?’ Martha muttered under her breath, ‘Just hang on baby, just hang on. You’ve just got to wait until I get hold of Daddy. As much as we want to meet you, here on the kitchen floor isn’t really what I had in mind!’ Finding the courage and the strength to get to her knees, Martha crawled slowly on her hands and knees across the kitchen floor and into the lounge area. Pausing to dig her fingernails into the couch as another contraction wracked her body and letting out a small whimper she clutched the phone in her left hand and collapsed at the end of the sofa. Propping her self up she tried in vain to slow her breathing as she painstakingly punched in the numbers to her husband’s mobile phone.

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You guys are all so kind! I'm just glad someone is reading it! Hope you like this next installment!

Chapter Two

Jack was busy filing at Yabbie Creek Police Station. He’d had a fairly non-eventful day, dealing with small cases and he was just filing the last of the paperwork. He still had an hour or so of his shift left though he wished he could get home to his beautiful wife right now. His thoughts drifted to Martha, she was perfect, all he’d ever wanted. He’d fancied the pants off her as soon as he met her; she drove him crazy, in more ways than one. They were both stubborn, opinionated and had tendencies to go into situations like bulls in a china shop! But they worked; they were good for each other and understood the other more than anyone else in the world. Sure they’d had their difficulties, the whole spider incident, Corey and the gun, their ruined wedding and honeymoon, Jack’s liver transplant, Martha missing in the bush, the list seemed endless yet they had emerged stronger than ever. They had been married over a year now and Jack was certain he loved her a little more each day. Now she was pregnant with their first child, due in just a matter of weeks. He just couldn’t imagine life getting than better than this. With that thought Jack was woken from his daydream by the harsh ring of his mobile phone, stationed at his desk. Placing the remaining documents in their respective files and slotting them back in the drawers. Pushing the drawers shut he made his way over to his phone peering at the small screen, ‘HOME’ flashed on and off. Jack smiled and pressed receive,

‘Hi beautiful, how are you feeling?’

Jack’s smile dimmed as soon as he held the phone to his ear. The colour drained from his face as he heard clearly his wife struggling for breath and crying in pain.

‘Mar? Martha? What’s wrong?’ pressing the phone closer to his ear he waited for the reply.

‘Baby’s coming… Jack… I need you… here… quick… aaaaaaaggghhhh!’

With her scream, Jack pulled away sharply from the phone, swapping ears and using his other hand to rub the ear subjected to her scream, he simply said

‘On my way Mar, on my way’.

Without stopping to explain to his superior Jack bolted out the station doors and ran to his car quicker than he had ever done before. Martha collapsed against the back of the sofa in relief, he was coming, he was finally on his way.

‘Not long now bub, not long now, please hang on’.

He made it home in record time; positive he must have broken every speed limit on the way. He pulled sharply into the drive and jumped out of the car, leaving the keys still in the ignition. He ran around the front of the car, up the steps and to the front door. Through the glass he could see her, his beautiful wife. She was led back against the sofa, her fingernails dug deep into the arm. Her face was red from exertion and he could see her chest heaving with every breath. Her hair and clothes were crumpled and dishevelled and her other hand clutched her baby bump tightly. She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, perfect, what did he ever do to deserve her? He pushed the door open and rushed to her side; taking the hand clasping the sofa arm in his own he held it tightly. She smiled weakly at him; he moved his other hand to her face, tucking a few strands of hair off her face and behind her ear. He ran his thumb across her cheeks, brushing away her tears,

‘I’m here now’.

Bringing his hand down to rest next to her own on her stomach he addressed her bump, his lips leaving a trail of kisses across her middle.

‘It’s Daddy bubs, how about you give Mummy just a little break now? Hey?’

As another contraction shot through her Martha responded through clenched teeth,

‘Not the biggest fan of Daddy’s kisses eh?’

The last half an hour had faded to a blur in Martha’s mind. The last thing she truly remembered feeling was complete and utter relief as Jack had walked through their front door. She remembered him taking her hand and picking her up off the sofa and carrying her gently to the car. How he ever managed to pick her up, baby bump and all she didn’t know but she had never felt so safe. She knew she was in the hospital now but quite how she had got there she wasn’t sure. She didn’t remember a car journey or being carried into the hospital and placed on a bed with machines monitoring the baby’s every heartbeat. She could still feel Jack’s hand gripped in her own and as contraction after contraction rocked her tired body she squeezed it all the more. How much longer would this go on for?

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You all give such kind comments! Here's the next installment, enjoy!

Chapter Three

Jack’s hand was slowly giving up the ghost. His poor wife had it in a vice-like grip that tightened every couple of minutes as contractions hit her body. She was almost completely unresponsive now so Jack welcomed her systematic hand grips; it meant she was still with him, still hanging in there. The doctors were concerned about her blood pressure rocketing through the roof and the baby’s growing distress. It seemed that a caesarean section was going to be the way forward unless Martha could calm herself and her baby down, but by the look of things that wasn’t really an option. Jack studied his wife as she lay back on the hospital bed, her face twisted in pain, her eyes tightly shut. He stood up slowly, scraping the chair legs across the floor. Her eyes flickered in response. He leaned slightly over the bed and with his unattached hand he gently stroked her face, ‘Martha’ he whispered into her left ear,

‘It’s Jack, sweetheart. I need you to calm down for me babe. The doctors are worried about you and bubs in there, they need you to calm down and so do I. Mar, I can’t lose you, please baby, open those beautiful eyes of yours, please’.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, no response, no recognition, nothing. Jack sighed and sat back heavily on his chair. He didn’t know what to do; he knew Martha hadn’t wanted a caesarean section but right now he realised neither of them had much choice in the matter. With that Martha’s grip on his hand tightened again as a contraction wracked her body but this time she didn’t loosen the grip, she held on, tighter and tighter. Jack stared at her, willing her to just open her eyes. Her lashes flickered and twitched and slowly she opened her eyes, her bleary gaze settled on her husband and a weak smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

‘Welcome back beautiful’

Jack whispered, leaning forward to kiss her damp forehead,

‘Welcome back’.

Over the next half an hour Martha grew stronger in herself though the contractions increased in number and intensity. With Jack to hold on to, she couldn’t see how she wouldn’t get through this. Monitors and machines bleeped occasionally sending nurses and doctors rushing in but for all the trauma of earlier it seemed Jack and Martha had a little fighter on their hands, clearly as stubborn as the both of them! It came to the time for Martha to start pushing, Rachel explained.

‘I need you to push as hard as you can Martha, a good few pushes and hopefully we can get that baby out as quick as possible. I need you to concentrate on your breathing too, hyperventilating won’t help anyone. Here, copy Jack. Two quick pants and then a long exhale, got it?’

Martha nodded to show she had understood and focused all her attention on Jack; he gripped both her hands now and looked straight back at her,

‘Ready?’ he asked.

‘Mmmm’ was all she could reply.

Pushing was the most excruciating pain Martha had ever experienced; she had never known pain like it. It took all she had to stay conscious. All she had to do was to keep looking at Jack.

Jack was also in agony. In agony because his beloved wife was in pain and all he wanted to do was take it away. If he could swap places with her, if he could take the pain for her, well, he’d do anything. He focused on Martha, keeping his own breathing steady, encouraging her to imitate him. Brushing her hair off her forehead and telling her constantly how well she was doing, how amazing she was and how much he loved her. Rachel’s voice broke his concentration; she was saying something about the baby’s head. He glanced down and there it was the very top of his beautiful baby’s head a fine layer of dark hair covering it. He gasped in shock and turning to Martha repeated

‘It’s the head Martha, I can see the head. You’re so close sweetheart, so close.’

Jack’s words gave Martha the encouragement she needed and she pushed with renewed vigour, Jack watched spellbound as the rest of the baby’s head and face followed, then the neck and shoulders. With one final push the rest of their baby came out and a lusty cry filled the room. It was incredible Jack thought, unbelievable. Their baby was picked up by a smiling Rachel and laid gently across Martha’s chest, ‘You have a beautiful baby girl, congratulations guys’.

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Apologies, it's quite a short chapter today! Sorry!

Chapter Four

Jack could not believe the events of the last few hours. He replayed them over and over in his mind. From Martha’s panicked phone call to actually witnessing his beautiful baby daughter being born. He had even cut the cord. Engrained forever in his mind was the image of Martha holding her for the very first time, the look of absolute and complete joy on her face. Martha had looked so beautiful, tired, flushed and tearstained fro m her efforts but beautiful all the same. Jack had to admit there were tears in his own eyes while looking at the perfect scene in front of him. And now here they were their own little family. He looked across the room at Martha, fast asleep in her hospital bed, peaceful at last. The even rise and fall of her chest such a contrast to her pained hyperventilating just hours before and her stomach dramatically decreased as their baby had now entered the world, a baby that was in that very moment cradled in her father’s arms, grasping tightly to his little finger. She was perfect, unbelievably so. Jack could have watched her for hours. She had a small amount of dark fluffy hair, Martha’s brow, eyes and nose and quite noticeably like Jack around her mouth and chin. She seemed to be a perfect blend of both her mother and father. And she was tiny, incredibly tiny. Jack marvelled at her little hands and feet, her minute fingernails and eyelashes. It was incredible that he and Martha had created this little girl lying contentedly in his arms. She was all theirs. Across the room Martha stirred, slowly she opened her eyes and looked across at her husband and beautiful new baby and grinned. Jack smiled in response and carefully walked across the room, his daughter enveloped safely in his arms. As he reached the bed he led their baby gently down into the crook of Martha’s arm whispering,

‘I guess it’s time Mummy had a cuddle too’.

He kissed Martha gently on the forehead and then again on her mouth, tender, sweet kisses that meant thankyou, well done and I love you all in one. He then leant down further to kiss his new baby daughter. He grazed her forehead gently with his lips. As he did so, she wrinkled her nose and snuggled further into the crook of her mother’s arm,

‘Still not a fan of Daddy’s kisses then Mia?’ Martha laughed.

(PS - Sorry Sian, she already had a name! You never know, a Sian might come up later in the story!)

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Chapter Five

Two and a half years had passed and while life was certainly different some things had never changed. The house was just the same, though noticeably littered with toys and baby paraphernalia now. Wedding and family photographs adorned the walls and every surface. Their smiling faces looked back at Jack as he surveyed the lounge area and the mess his beautiful daughter had created in just a matter of seconds. Mia was now a toddler and very much her own person, fiercely independent, strong-willed and extremely talkative! With her curly dark hair and Martha’s brow and eyes she looked a lot like Martha as a child. She was bubbly and eternally excited, happy to play with anything or anyone that came her way, a daddy’s little girl through and through. At this very moment in time she was pushing her doll around the front room in its buggy, negotiating a path through the mountains of other toys and sofa cushions she had spread around the room and commentating on the experience in her sing-songy babble. Jack smiled at his daughter and looked down at the sleeping bundle cradled in his arms, their second child, and precious son. ‘Matthew Jack Holden’ was ten months old, dark haired and dark eyed like his father. Martha’s wish that any son of theirs would be like his father certainly had come true; Matthew was a miniature Jack in both looks and apparently in personality too. Jack sighed contentedly, he wished Martha could see this scene playing out before him, at least he could tell her all about it later. Bringing the buggy to him with his foot he gently lowered his baby son into the seat. Matthew snuffled a little and threw his arms up over his head and snuggled back into slumber. Jack smiled, softly stroked Matthew’s cheek and pulled down the sun visor of the buggy. Turning to Mia, he whispered

‘Come on baby girl, time to go see Mummy’.

Jack pushed the buggy over the lush green grass, manoeuvring with great skill around obstacles and all the while holding his little daughter’s hand. Mia’s happy chatter filled the silence, everything interested her, everything. As they drew closer, Jack crouched down and picked Mia up in his arms, pointing ahead he said,

‘Look Mia, can you see?’

With Mia still cradled in his arms Jack pushed the buggy forward saying quietly,

‘Hi beautiful, we’ve missed you’. He only wished tombstones could talk back.

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Firstly, I have to apologise. I am so sorry to have killed off Martha, especially when you didn't see it coming, I'm sorry! I hope you won't hate me and stop reading the story! Apologies again!

Here's the next chapter, I thought you all deserved after the shock at the end of the last one and I'm not sure I'll make it to the computer tomorrow, so here goes... Perhaps you'll forgive me now?!

Chapter Six

Martha had died just four months earlier. It had all happened so quickly. She had been diagnosed with breast cancer almost immediately after Matthew's birth but the prognosis had looked good, with regular chemo and radiotherapy there was hope that she could make a full recovery and be in remission within a year. What they hadn't reckoned on was the difference the thousands of hormones produced while pregnant with her son would make. With such an aggressive cancer and the discovery of a number of advanced secondary tumours also, Martha didn't have long left. Martha had taken the news quietly and declared war on her own body, determined that she could fight whatever came her way. She had too, she had two young children, a husband, how could she just leave them? Jack had watched it all, taken it all in. Inside his heart had broken, shattered there and then, his beautiful wife was sick, so sick she was never going to get better. She was leaving him and she was leaving their children, how was that fair? How could that be allowed? The chances of even having breast cancer at her age were so slim, it just didn't seem real. With therapy they were told Martha could be given a few extra months with her family and that was the best they could hope for, all that they could hope to get.

Looking back now Jack still didn't know how they made it through those last six months of Martha's life. Mia had just turned two, Matthew a newborn and he and Martha reeling from shock of her diagnosis. Martha had wanted to fight with everything she had in her just for one more day with him and their precious children. She set herself goals, to see Jack's 27th birthday, Matthew turn three months old, four months old etc. However, as time went on and her body grew weaker and weaker she relented. Resigned to the fact that she was going to be unavoidably taken away from her beloved family she put all her efforts into enjoying every single moment she had left and preparing her husband and children for a life without her in it. Jack had hated to see the fight and fire leave her eyes, her stubborn will he had loved so much just vanish, it took him a while to realise that spending their remaining days together as a family was far better than fighting a losing battle against something much bigger than they, God was calling his angel home it seemed.

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I am so sorry for upsetting you all, especially after you have all given me such kind comments, I feel very cruel! Here's the next installment, enjoy... (if you can?!)

Chapter Seven

Martha threw herself into life those last few months, savouring every precious moment. Jack took the time off work and as a family she guided them through, her strength was incredible, he honestly didn’t know where it came from or how she kept going. He had asked her one night when they were lying together in bed, Martha with her head led gently on his chest and a sleeping Matthew cradled in the crook of his other arm.

‘How do you do it Mar? Where do you get this super-human strength from?’

He had mumbled into the hair piled up on the top of her head. In response she had lifted her eyes to meet his and whispered just one word,


He had broken down there and then, the last pieces of his broken heart shattering inside him, irreparable. It was that same night with Matthew led between them in their bed that Martha had expressed her wishes about how she wanted to spend their remaining time and how she wanted her funeral and the children’s lives handled after she’d gone. Jack had never felt so broken, so utterly helpless. She had spoken so serenely, planned it all to the last letter, and all Jack had wanted to do was scream. Scream and hold his wife so impossibly close to him, never, ever let her go. She spoke about wanting to make and leave behind mementos for both children, how she wanted her funeral to be held at the same church they got married in and how she wanted to be cremated and scattered at three separate locations. Part of the ashes were to be buried at that same church, another scattered at the cliff top where they had shared their first kiss and numerous dates and lastly at Stewart’s Point, for her grandfather, proving herself to be a ‘Stewart’ through and through.

PS - Sorry it's quite a short one!

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Again, thankyou all so much for writing such lovely comments, they mean a lot! Thankyou. Here's the next chapter, I apologise as it's another short one. Need to find more time! Enjoy!

Chapter Eight

The next day she had started her task with great excitement and anticipation. Finding two identical wooden chests she lovingly labelled one for Mia and the other for Matthew and began filling them both with mementos of her and their little family. She carried a camera everywhere she went, determined to capture every moment on film forever.

She filled the boxes with photographs from her own childhood wanting her children to know who she truly was, who she had been as well as the woman she had become. She added old toys of her own and clothes she had worn, her smell fresh on the fabric. School and family photos, keepsakes that had belonged to her own mother before she had died, mementos taken from the farm she had grown up on all were included, the same number in each chest.

Then there were the wedding photos taken just a few years earlier, pregnancy diaries for each child were also placed in, ultrasound pictures and photos of a heavily pregnant Martha were placed carefully in albums. Pictures taken from minutes old, hand and foot prints, detailed documentation of first smile and word, crawling and walking, all was written down in full. Hundreds of pictures of them as a family and each child with their mother filled the boxes, determined that they should never forget her face, who she was as a person. Finally she included DVD messages for each, one for the occasion of their 18th birthdays, their wedding days and finally for when they had a child of their own. She also included handwritten letters for each child, to be read when they just when they just needed their Mum. She had thought of everything and it broke Jack’s heart that she wouldn’t be there for it all. How was he going to cope? Raise their children without her?

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Thanks again for all the great comments, they're such an encouragement to keep posting! I'm afraid I can't give you any happier chapters at the moment! Here's the next installment, hope you enjoy it (as much as possible anyway!)

Chapter Nine

Martha had died at home on a Thursday afternoon, in the caring arms of her husband and in their own bed. Their baby son had been asleep in his cot at the other end of the bedroom and their daughter had been playing on the floor in the next room, watched over tearfully by her great-grandfather. Family members and friends had come and gone throughout the day, each saying their personal goodbyes. It was how Martha had wanted it, peaceful, gentle and in the arms of the only person she had trusted to catch her always, her soul mate, her lover, her best friend, her husband and father of her beautiful children.

Her funeral had also gone as she had wanted it to, held at the beautiful church she had once said her wedding vows and with all the people who loved her dearly present. Her grandfather and brother had spoken beautifully about their beloved granddaughter and sister, while Tasha had written and read a beautiful poem about the friendship her and Martha had shared. Jack had sat sandwiched between his father and brother, Mia and Matthew cradled in his arms, reluctant to let them go, the only part of Martha he still had to touch. Too broken to express his feelings and love for Martha in his own words his contribution came in a song by Natalie Merchant entitled ‘Beloved Wife’ echoing his very sentiments, all the words he couldn’t say.

‘You were the love for certain of my life; you were simply my beloved wife.

I don't know for certain how I'll live my life, now alone without my beloved wife.

I can't believe I've lost the very best of me,

you were the love for certain of my life, and you were simply my beloved wife.

I don't know for certain how I'll live my life, now alone without my beloved wife’

PS - Another short one, sorry! I'll try to make them longer!

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Here's the next chapter for you all, it's not getting any happier really, sorry! Don't want to keep making you all cry! Enjoy...

Chapter Ten

He hadn’t cried yet, not properly but as he later scattered his beloved wife at the cliff top she had once offered to jump from and later made his day, month and year by returning his kiss, he broke down and sobbed uncontrollably. He didn’t see how he could go on without her, how could he live without the woman that gave his life meaning? He had walked home inconsolable, sobs wracking his body, his face tracked with salty tears. His father had met him at the front door; and Jack had flung himself into his father’s arms and clung to him tight. Tony had been here, he knew what it felt like to lose the woman you loved, the mother of your children. Lucas had been around Matthew’s age when his beautiful Kate had been cruelly taken away from them. After Jack had tearfully disentangled himself from his father and Tony had left him alone he headed to the bedroom collapsing on the bed. He buried his head in the pillows on her side, desperate for her sweet scent but it had gone, his own smell masking it. Just another part of his Martha he had lost. How was he ever going to get through this?


Four months had now passed and while Jack was slowly getting over the shock of losing Martha and living his life without her, his heart was still broken, the pain still raw and unchanging. His arms ached without her in them, his hands longing to fit within hers, to stroke her hair, to touch her face, kiss her lips. Her scent no longer filled the house and while he hadn’t touched her things they had started to lose their meaning. Her clothes still hung in her wardrobe untouched, her make up still in its bag on her bedside table, now covered in dust, her toothbrush still in the holder next to Jack’s. He had kept everything, moved nothing, the last person to touch her things had been her yet it taunted him, how the mountain of material things, objects that had meant so much to her, actually meant nothing without their owner. He knew he couldn’t keep her things forever but at the same time he didn’t know where to begin. Longing for comfort from her he suddenly remembered the chests she had so lovingly made for the children. He started to poke around under the bed, pulling out the chests one by one. As he did so he saw something he hadn’t seen before, a small pink post-it note stuck carefully to the lid of Mia’s box. Written in Martha’s handwriting it simply said,

‘This one’s not for you! Try looking under the mountain of clothes at the bottom of my wardrobe. I love you xx’.

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