"Is everything okay?" Miles poked his head in the door of the room like he was asking permission to enter. Which wasn't necessary considering it was his room too. He'd clearly gotten Rocky to sleep for her nap, so he probably deserved to lie down on their bed but couldn't because Jensen had covered it in clothes.

            Jensen looked up as she placed a folded shirt into her suitcase. "Why wouldn't it be?"

            "Considering I just got home with four jars of gherkins and there's a severe lack of you, them, and a can of frosting in the kitchen?" Miles asked. "Call it a wild guess."

            "Just because the baby wants it doesn't mean I want to eat it."

"I'll remember that next time we meet up for two in the morning dates to the kitchen." Miles swung the door open a little farther and leaned against the doorframe. Arms crossed, he said, "Really, Rhodes, you're packing for your trip."

            "Tends to happen when you have somewhere to go."

            "Almost six years together and I've never seen you pack before the night before," Miles said. "Did you magically get over your fear of flying and not tell me about it?"

            "I've been seeing a wizard actually," Jensen said.

            "A wizard?" Miles raised his eyebrows. "Wow."

            "Specializes in fears of flying. It's incredible."

            "Does this wizard have a name?"

            "Merlin... ia." Jensen felt herself dying in the hole she'd dug, but she was too far down to turn back.

            "Merlinia?"

            "You heard me." Jensen focused on folding another shirt.

            "And now you're looking forward to flying," Miles started, "because of Merlinia?"

            "More like I'm looking less forward to what happens after I land," Jensen said. She paused halfway to putting the shirt in her suitcase and looked at Miles with wide eyes.

            Miles smiled softly. A hint of sadness shone in his eyes. "There it is."

            "I don't appreciate the Jedi mind trick." Jensen pointed a finger at him for good measure.

            "Got you talking didn't it?" Miles asked. "What's bugging you?"

            "Everything."

            Miles walked into the room and stood on the opposite side of the bed from her. "Start with number one and we'll work from there."

            "I wish you could come with me."

            "If there was a way—"

"I know, babe. It's..." Jensen let out a sigh. "Nine hours is a long flight. And there's no way I'm going to be able to sleep through it with—" Jensen put her hand on her stomach.

            "I can try again but there was a resounding no the last time," Miles said, shaking his head. "Three years later and they're still mad at me for mysteriously going to Russia two months before my honeymoon."

            Jensen smiled softly and wrinkled her nose. "They'd be angrier if they knew it was your second honeymoon two months later."

            "When your fiancée says let's elope, you tend to not think about the angry men you'll see twice a year and just go with it," Miles said, grinning. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

            "You didn't want The Office dance at the wedding."

            "And I was right that Dayna was going to do it anyway."

            Jensen laughed. "Yeah, you were."

            Eyes drifting away from Miles and to the photo on her side of the bed, Jensen  was met with a photo of them smilingon their Russia trip. Miles had taken it on his phone after they left thecommunity church. Newlyweds, only known to themselves. Jensen wouldn't tradewhat came the following years for the world, considering Rocky was born ten monthsafter their trip, but it was nice to think back. That moment was theirs. Onlytheirs. Nobody to tell them who they were supposed to be. What they shouldwear. Worry about who was watching. 

            "Do you want me to try again?" Miles asked, picking up one of the pairs of pants Jensen had laid out and folding them.

            "It's not worth annoying them," Jensen said. "And Rocky flies like I do."

            "I have two shoulders for a reason."

            "Your shoulders are pretty comfortable." Jensen tried to smile but she didn't have to see it to know how fake it looked. "Do you think they're even going to let me on the plane?"

            "They better," Miles said, "I paid for Tina's ticket too."

            Jensen knew he was trying to help. She knew that he was trying to make her laugh. Smile at the very least. But there was a week until she was out in the world again. A week until she revealed arguably the biggest secret she'd kept. Topping even when she and Miles spent six months sneaking around and kissing each other behind closed doors.

            The amount of photos on the red carpet when Miles had kissed her before their premiere was going to be nothing compared to what happened the moment Jensen got out of her car clearly pregnant. She'd been to premieres and done press while pregnant before. That wasn't what was scary to her.

Miles and Jensen had done premieres when she was pregnant with Rocky. (Miles liked those premieres.) (He took any opportunity he could to put his hand on her stomach for a photo and his smiles were always the widest in those shots.) But Jensen had been publicly pregnant with Rocky. Miles had made posts on his Instagram the entire journey. Pictures of ultrasounds and baby shoes. Jensen rarely admitted it out loud, but her favourites were the ones Miles took when they went to beaches for sunsets and he caught her silhouette with her baby bump. Usually captioned with various hearts, sometimes with my loves. She knew he'd taken similar ones with her holding Rocky's hand when they snuck out one night a month before.

            "You're going to do great," Miles said, drawing Jensen out of too many thoughts about too many things. "You know that, right?"

            "I feel like I've signed myself up for only pregnancy questions."

            "If that's all they're going to ask you on a press tour, they're shitty reporters."

            "Yeah, well," Jensen said. "Being awful at their job isn't going to stop them."

            "Rhodes."

            "Miles."

            "We can go to the grocery store right now, call in an anonymous tip to the Vancouver branch of Real Hollywood, and you can be public," Miles said. "Just say the word."

            Jensen smiled softly. "I love you."

            "I love you too," Miles said. "Tell me what I can do to help."

            "Do you think—" Jensen grabbed a pair of jeans to fold so she didn't have to look Miles in the eyes. "I mean..." It made Jensen feel like she was going to throw up saying it out loud. "Rocky knows why I have to leave. Right?"

            Jensen was sure Miles' expression had softened even though she was focused on placing clothing in her suitcase. It took him too long to reply for nothing to have changed, but Jensen didn't have to look at him to know that.

"Rhodes."

            Jensen cleared her throat. "Miles."

            "You're a good mom, you know that, right?"

            "You're my husband."

            "So?"

            "So you have to say that," Jensen said. She sighed as she realized how bad her folding was and pinched her shirt by the shoulders to shake the fold out and start again. Tears pooled in her eyes, she fought them back. "And don't say you've never thought about it."

            "Jensen." Miles moved to stop her from hyper-focusing on folding but thought better of it. They both knew she was attempting to ground herself with clothes. "Jensen. Listen to me. You are a good mom."

            "Leaving her behind doesn't feel like it," Jensen said. She got the shirt into an acceptable fold and haphazardly dropped it into her suitcase. "And it's going to keep happening. After this one arrives."

            Jensen continued to avoid his eyes. She didn't want to see how upset he looked, it was bound to make her feel even worse. Timing awful as always, Jensen felt the baby moving around. Gently, she placed a hand on her stomach and rubbed it. She wished she could tell them she wasn't blaming them, it was the world she was blaming.

            "Jensen." Miles climbed onto their bed. Crawled over unfolded clothes, stopped in front of her. Placed his hands over hers. "Baby, please look at me."

            Jensen swallowed hard as she looked up. Seeing Miles nearly made every tear fall. He pressed up to her as close as he could. His stomach against hers, but not too hard. Thumbs rubbed against the back of her hands. Jensen focused on his hands. His stomach. The soft breaths that escaped his lips. Any part of Miles touching Jensen, however soft it grazed, she decided to focus on.

            "We are raising a good kid, Jensen," Miles said. "I know it's been tough with Rocky after the post—"

            "Please don't say it."

            Miles took a moment to examine her features. Jensen wished he wouldn't. He knew how to read her like a book. He swallowed hard enough that Jensen heard him. "You're scared it's going to happen again."

            "There's a thirty percent chance it will," Jensen said. Because she'd looked it up. Because of course she had.

            "That's a seventy percent chance it won't."

            "But what about the thirty?"

            "Jensen—"

            "That's not a small number."

            "Jensen."

            "What?"

            "If, and that's a big if, it happens again, I will still be right here." Miles held her hands a little tighter. Held them a little closer to his heart. "We'll get through it together."

            Jensen drew in a shaking breath. "I don't want to feel like there is someone better again."

            "You are the best mom for our kids," Miles said. "I will repeat that until you believe it."

            "You didn't have your brain telling you that your kid was stuck with you," Jensen said. Tears built up in her eyes, blurring Miles. "That... that you weren't good enough for her."

            "You." Miles kissed her forehead. "Are a fantastic mom." Each cheek. "And will continue to be when this baby is born." Her nose. "Don't you dare." Her chin. "Think otherwise." Her lips. "Got it?"

            "Miles—" Jensen felt a few tears fall. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

            "I will not hesitate to continue kissing you if you don't agree," Miles said. "I did not marry a bad mom. I—"

            "I wasn't a mom when we got married," Jensen said. "Well, not yet. I mean, I was pregnant the second wedding—"

            Miles laughed weakly and kissed her knuckles. "Will you please let me finish, Rhodes?"

            Jensen slid her hand out from Miles' and wiped away a tear that fell. She let out a small laugh. "Go ahead."

            "You are not what your brain is telling you," Miles said. He kissed her softly. Probably for good measure. "You are fantastic at what you do. Rocky understands that her mom is kick ass. And you are the best mother no matter what."

            "Miles—"

            "No matter what," Miles said, pushed a few curls behind her ear. "I swear, Rhodes, I'll be forced to kiss every inch of your face if you don't agree. It's the rules."

            "Who's rules exactly?"

            "Mine," Miles said. "Of course."

            Jensen smiled softly. "Of course."

            "Jensen," Miles said. "Why is this bothering you so much?"

            "You realize we're about to be evenly matched, right?" Jensen asked. "It's not rock-paper-scissors over who gets to go fix problems. There's two of them who are going to need help from us. It might not always be the same time, but it might be."

            "There's two of us," Miles said. "And we both have specialties, Rhodes."

            "Specialties?"

            "Yeah."

            "Like what?"

            "Well," Miles said, "you're clearly better at breastfeeding than me."

            Jensen let out a laugh. "I'm being serious."

            "So am I." Miles kissed her forehead again. "There's nothing to worry about."

            "There's a lot to worry about."

            "No there's not," Miles said. "We're in this together. They're kids, Rhodes. We can handle them. It's the same diapers and the same puke down the back and the same crying for reasons we'll have to figure out. It's okay."

            Jensen looked down. At her stomach pressed against Miles'. "I think we're having a boy, you know."

            "Do you?"

            Jensen nodded. "It's... I don't know."

            "Mother's intuition?" Miles asked. "Because good moms have that."

            "Do you want a son?" Jensen asked, fiddling with his fingers as their wrists gently rested on her stomach. She looked back up at him.

            "It doesn't matter," Miles said, shaking his head. "I don't care. Not at all."

            "Miles..."

            "Rhodes," Miles said. "I married you because I love you. Whatever gender our kids decide they are, I will love them no matter what. And you will too. You know why?"

            Jensen smiled softly and looked down at their hands again. "Because I'm a good mom?"

            Miles kissed her temple and hugged her. "There you go."

            Jensen wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his shoulder. She held onto him tighter than she realized, but didn't loosen her grip. Miles didn't protest. He had a habit of holding Jensen until she was the one to let go. If Jensen listed all her favourite things about Miles, that probably would've been one of her top answers. (He knew when she needed a good hug.) (And respected when she asked him to loosen his grip unless they wanted early labour.)

            "We're good parents, Rhodes," Miles said, muffled by her shoulder. "Nothing's going to change that."

            "Not even having a boy?"

            "Do you know something I don't?" Jensen could hear the smile in his voice.

            "It's only a feeling." Jensen pulled away. "I don't really know how to explain it."

            "If they're a girl, we have this handled," Miles said, smiling. "And if they're a boy, I'll teach him how to pee and shave and... and respect his sister and God forbid, wear condoms when the time comes. We'll rock it just as well either way."

            "How can you be sure?"

            "Because we're us," Miles said, "and we figure things out together." He held up their hands and interlocked his fingers with Jensen's. "We balance each other out. Fill in the gaps." Miles kissed her forehead. Then her knuckles. "Rhodes, we've been through this before and guess what? We're fucking good parents. The one we're raising right now is incredible. This one—" Miles put his hands on the side of her stomach. Their eyes met as a kick rapped against Miles' hand, they both broke out into smiles. "—is going to be just as incredible."

            Miles held his hand out, like he was waiting for Jensen to shake his hand. She knew better. Two quick slaps followed by the bottom of his fist stamping the top of hers. Vice versa with hers over his, their knuckles bumped together and their hands mocked an explosion. It might've been a simple handshake, but it never failed to put a smile on Jensen's face.

            "Daddy, Mama," Rocky said, walking into the room.

            Jensen and Miles turned to look at her. Rocky had her arm keeping a chokehold on her unicorn, and a finger up her nose no matter how many times they had told her to stop.

            "There she is," Miles said, softly. The fought back laughter in his voice evidence Jensen wasn't imagining Rocky picking her nose. "Our miracle of life. Incredible."

            "Baby girl, I thought you were napping," Jensen said as she fought her own laughter.

            Rocky shrugged. Ever her mother's daughter. Jensen couldn't exactly be annoyed when she was certain Rocky had learned it from her.

            "What's up, Snips?" Miles asked.

            "Uncle Mads is here," Rocky said.

            Miles frowned. "What did we say about opening the door by yourself?"

            "He's loud," Rocky said.

            "That sounds like Maddox," Miles said. A small laugh escaping his lips. He looked back to Jensen. "Are you okay?"

            Jensen nodded. "Thank you."

            Miles kissed her forehead. "Are you going to come downstairs?"

            "I'll clean this up first," Jensen said.

            Miles nodded. He took Rocky's hand without thinking about it and shot Jensen a disgusted look when he realized it was the nose-picking hand. The other one was preoccupied with holding her unicorn, which was more important to her than keeping Miles' hand clean.

"Miles?"

            "Yeah?" Miles turned on his heel to look at her.

            "Thank you."

            "You and me against the world, Rhodes." Miles grinned, allowing himself to be dragged out of the room by Rocky. "Don't forget it."

            "Babe."

            "Yeah?"

            "Are there really gherkins in the kitchen?"

            "As disgusting as I think it is—" Miles laughed. "I wouldn't lie about that."