Jensen dreaded video calls. Every time they happened, they were business related and boring and occasionally when Rocky was younger, she had to breast feed during them. She despised them. Absolutely hated them.

            But Jensen was all but cartwheeling around her hotel room in anticipation for talking to Rocky and Miles. She'd even changed and put on mascara. Those were big steps for her. Even if it was simple overalls. A headache that hit after Scott had made sure she got to her hotel all right wouldn't deter her from answering their call.

            Her heart practically leapt out of her chest when she got the alert that Miles was calling. Never had Jensen Rhodes pressed an accept call button so quickly. Smiling faces stared back at her. Sitting on her and Miles bed, both sipping milkshakes that Jensen knew Miles had made. The cookie crumble on top of the whipped cream was his signature. (Dairy milkshakes had nothing on Miles' vanilla and cookie dairy free milkshakes and Jensen stood by that wholeheartedly.) (Maybe she was a little biased.) (But only a little.)

            "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

            "I was thinking the same thing." Jensen smiled. She couldn't stop smiling.

            They were both wearing onesies with their hoods on. Matching ones. Green dinosaurs that Jensen had one of too—she was the least willing to wear it, though. Jensen wasn't one for costumes. Miles sipped at his milkshake as Rocky leaned forward toward the camera.

            "Hi, mama!" Rocky said, her smile wide. Taking up most of the screen as she got closer. Jensen wished she could reach through the screen and hug her tighter than she ever had. Never let her go.

            "Hi, Rock." Jensen leaned a hand against her head to attempt to rub her temple unnoticed.

            "Snips, stay away from the camera," Miles said, gently pulling her away from his computer. "Mom can see you fine."

            "I miss you!" Rocky said, leaning forward again despite Miles' attempt to keep her away from the screen.

            "I miss you too," Jensen said. "Are you having a good time with your dad?"

            Rocky nodded. Vigorously. "Guess what?"

            "What?"

            Rocky looked up at Miles. "Can I show mama?"

            "Course you can," Miles said. 

            After Rocky had turned back to Jensen, Miles winked.

            Rocky pulled her hood off and pushed her ears forward with her fingers. "Surprise!"

            Jensen's jaw dropped, eyes lighting up. Best acting performance she had in her given to her daughter. She wouldn't have had it any other way. A headache wouldn't deter her. "Little queen, they look so good!"

            "Thank you, mama." Rocky sat farther back from the camera, leaning the back of her head against Miles' torso. Her smile was enough to keep Jensen going for ages.

            "Were you scared?" Jensen asked.

            Rocky nodded.

            "But you did it," Jensen said, "you did great!"

            "Daddy went before," Rocky said.

            Miles choked on the sip of milkshake he was drinking, causing Rocky to erupt in a fit of giggles.

            "He—" Jensen started, looking at Miles with an amused smile. Almost amused enough to forget about the throbbing in her head. "What?"

            Miles visibly reddened and pulled the hood of his onesie off his head, turning it so Jensen could see his earring. "She was nervous, I didn't want her thinking it hurt."

            "So you—" Jensen caught herself and put a hand over her mouth as a small snort escaped. Her smile felt like it reached her ears as she pulled her hand away. "I love you."

            "I was thinking of getting a little hoop and cross earring for it," Miles said, turning back to Jensen, the blush still on his face. God, Jensen could've kissed his cheeks for ages. Kissed him for ages. "Everyone needs a little more George Michael in their life, right?"

            "Absolutely," Jensen said with a small laugh. "I'll try and find one while I'm over here."

            "Perfect." Miles grinned. He looked down at Rocky. "Are you going to tell your mom what else you did today?"

            "You tell mama!" Rocky pointed a finger up at him, which Miles dodged with a laugh.

            "She's not my mama, Snips."

            Rocky laughed and grabbed Miles' hands, holding the backs of them to the camera so Jensen could see newly painted nails and various drawings done with what Jensen hoped was paint but was likely marker. Jensen smiled at Rocky's art, but grinned at the wedding band for a moment. She could have that. She deserved that moment.

            Her eyes scanned Miles' hands. Flowers, hearts, smiles were drawn all over. Likely down his wrists, which were cut off by the screen.

            "Wow, little queen," Jensen said as Rocky pulled Miles' hands away from the camera. "That looks great."

            Rocky leaned in close to the camera again. Cupping her hands around her mouth, Rocky whispered. Loudly. "I drew a picture for you."

            Jensen gasped. "You did?"

            Rocky jumped off Miles' lap and disappeared from the camera. Miles' eyes weren't on the screen as her footsteps got farther away before he looked back to Jensen.

            "I guess you're getting a look at your picture," he said, smiling. "I was just going to priority mail it to you."

            "You don't have to do that." Jensen gave a weak smile.

            "Given the postal system, maybe you'll get it in time for your birthday," Miles said, "speaking of—"

            "Lookit!" Footsteps sounded as Rocky ran back in the room, jumping back onto Miles, who let out a small groan. Which made Rocky laugh, so maybe it was worth it. She stood up on his legs, only using one hand to push herself up as she held the drawing.

            Leaning forward, Rocky held out the drawing so Jensen could see it. As best she could make out, there were three people drawn in various crayons and markers, all smiling. Miles had written me, you, and dad above the heads and Rocky had drawn arrows. A smaller arrow pointed to Jensen and where her stomach supposedly was, in Miles' handwriting was baby. To the side was a sun, propped in the corner of the paper. To: Mama and Love: Rocky was written in a blank space, Rocky having traced over Miles' writing.

            Jensen smiled as wide as she could. "That's amazing, Rocky! Wow."

            "Do you like it?" Rocky asked, peeking out from behind the picture.

            "I love it," Jensen said, "It's beautiful."

            "Beautiful?"

            "Beautiful."

            "Wow." Rocky sat back down and stared at the drawing on her lap. She looked up at Miles. "It's beautiful!"

            "Yeah it is, little queen," Miles said.

            Rocky smiled down at her drawing again as Jensen and Miles met each other's eyes.

            "How'd the rest of press go today?" Miles asked. Jensen wished his eyes hadn't softened and his eyebrows hadn't knit together.

            "It was..." Jensen trailed off to choose her words carefully. "Less exciting."

            "That's a good thing, right?"

            "It's a great thing." Jensen nodded.

            Rocky yawned. Loudly. Polite enough to cover her hand. But not polite enough not to stick her index finger up it when she was done yawning.

            "You tired, Snips?" Miles asked, looking down at her. Pulling her arm gently away from her face.

            Rocky nodded, freeing her arm from Miles' hand and rubbing her eyes.

            Miles looked at his watch the same time Jensen looked at the clock on her wall. Her heart panged in her chest after quick time difference math.

            "It's about nap time," they said at the same time. They smiled sadly as they met each other's eyes again.

            "I'm sorry," Miles said, "I didn't think about that."

            "It's okay," Jensen said. "I didn't either."

            "Hey!" Miles yelled, loud enough that Jensen jumped. He leaned offscreen. "Maddox!"

            "God, Miles, a warning," Jensen said, immediately regretting her tone.

            Miles frowned when he looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly. "Sorry."

            "What do you want, Milo?" Jensen could hear Maddox's footsteps as he walked into the room. He poked his head into the camera. "Hi, Jensen!"

            "Hi, Maddox."

            "How's London, love?" Maddox asked in his best British accent.

            "London's fine," Jensen said. "How's Vancouver?"

            "I've got one cool roommate," Maddox said, "I've dealt with the other one before, so Vancouver's pretty good."

            "Hey," Miles said, still looking off camera.

            "What do you want?"

            "Can you put Rocky down for a nap?" Miles asked. "Please?"

            "Yeah," Maddox said, "if she's cool with that."

            "Are you okay with uncle Mads taking you for your nap?" Miles asked, looking at Rocky, who nodded. "Say bye to mama then, Snips."

            Rocky pouted. "But I miss mama."

            Miles winced, looking to Jensen for help. "Um—"

            "Mama can call tomorrow," Jensen said, "how about that, little queen?"

            Rocky nodded. "Okay, mama."

            "Be good for your dad and uncle Mads, okay?"

            "Okay," Rocky said, yawning again. "Bye bye."

            "Talk to you later, little queen."

            Rocky stood on Miles again and leaned to the screen, kissing it. "I love you."

            Jensen felt tears built up in her eyes. She feared if she started, she wouldn't stop. And tears never helped her headaches. "I love you too, Rock."

            "See you tomorrow!"

            "See you then," Jensen said.

            "I love you!"

            "I love you."

            Maddox's arms came into the camera, carefully picking her up and not ruining her drawing. When she was safe in his arms, Jensen assumed she was, Maddox leaned back into view of the camera.

            "Bye, Jensen," Maddox said.

            "Bye, Maddox," Jensen said. "Thank you for handling nap time."

            "Of course."

            "Thanks, Maddox," Miles said, "sweet dreams, Snips."

            "Bye, daddy."

            Footsteps retreated from the room and the door closed behind them. Miles looked back to Jensen on the camera.

            "So," Miles said.

            "So," Jensen repeated.

            "Do you want to talk about what happened at press today?" Miles asked.

            "We don't have to," Jensen said. "It's gross."

            "We do if it's bothering you."

            Jensen sighed softly. "Why are men... men?"

            "You're going to have to be a little more specific for me to help, baby."

            "I..." Jensen ran a hand over her forehead.

            "Are you okay?"

            "It's a headache," Jensen said, "I'm fine."

            "You don't have to be," Miles said. "We can talk in your morning. I can wait up."

            Jensen shook her head. "That's too late for you."

            "I'm sure my mother wouldn't mind if I stayed up late," Miles said, "especially if it was for you."

            "You don't have to," Jensen said. "I'm sure it'll go away."

            "Only if you're sure."

            "I'm sure," Jensen said. She leaned her head on her hand again. "How did today go? Really. How's everything going?"

            "We've watched so much Clone Wars, I think I could recite most of season one for an audition monologue. Character voices and all."

            "I look forward to your Obi-Wan," Jensen said with a small laugh. "And at the shop today?"

"She was fine," Miles said with a shrug, "mostly. After mine was done, she was good to go."

            "Are you going to keep it?"

            "Should I?"

            "It's not my ear."

            "Yeah, but the owner of the ear cares about your opinion," Miles said. "Verdict is?"

            "I like it," Jensen said. "I might be biased because I think everything suits you."

            Miles laughed softly. "I'll keep it until you're home. See how I feel when I'm used to it, see how you feel when it's in person."

            "It's up to you, babe." Jensen managed a soft smile.

            "Did the guy who upset you earlier have an earring?"

            "I—ugh," Jensen said, "no. He didn't. Stop the jedi mind tricks."

            "Sorry."

            "He was—" Jensen sighed. "—awful. He was misogynistic and sexist and he asked me about my diet for the movie as if he actually cared and didn't simply want to objectify me. Because God forbid I be something other than someone to look at and how dare he ask me an acting question.

            "Scott tried to deflect him, which I appreciated, because telling him I ate for two for months didn't seem to steer him away—" Jensen hated that tears fell down her cheeks, her head throbbed. "And he asked what kind of underwear I wore in my suit that he claimed was too tight and not fitting.

            "Then out of nowhere he says that I should get another job or go to school," Jensen said, twisting the ring in her nose. "As if I don't have four degrees and love my job. Decided afterwards to tell me I looked tired. As if I don't know that I'm fucking exhausted. All the time. God, Miles, I felt so gross after and I wanted to scrape my skin off. That's why you got a text too early in the morning and why you had to call. I'm still sorry about that, I didn't want to wake you, I just..." Jensen took a deep breath in and wiped her face. "You're my person."

            Miles' expression softened. "You're mine too."

            "This video call should be more positive," Jensen said, "I haven't seen you, you don't—"

            "Please don't finish that sentence," Miles said. "That man sounds fucking disgusting and you're allowed to be upset about what happened with him."

            "I could've hit him," Jensen said, "Scott looked like he wanted to, too."

            "Tell him I'll pay his bail if he does," Miles said. "Sounds like he deserved it. I would've."

            "You got arrested last time you punched someone," Jensen said.

            "But I got to hold your hand for the first time when I got out," Miles said, "that seems worth it to me."

            Jensen wrinkled her nose as she smiled softly. "You could've held my hand before that if you'd asked."

            "But it got us to where we are now," Miles said. "So, I'm hearing I should come to London and punch a reporter."

            "You can come here and give me a hug, kiss," Jensen said, "maybe two or three of each."

            "I can give you more than that."

            "But you don't have to come here to punch anyone." Jensen sniffled softly. "I promise."

            "I'm sorry it happened," Miles said. "Is there anything I can do?"

            "I should be used to it," Jensen said. "Or... ready for it. I don't know."

            "Someone told me once," Miles said as he folded his hands on his stomach, "that just because it happens often doesn't mean you should be used to it."

            "That person's cheesy as shit."

            "That person was you, Rhodes."

            Jensen almost rolled her eyes. At herself, not at Miles. "Cheesy."

            "Helped, though," Miles said. "You're sure there's nothing I can do?"

            "Don't read the tabloids tomorrow."

            "I never do."

            "I'm probably going to get crucified," Jensen said, "I didn't answer his underwear question—"

            "You shouldn't have."

            "—and I told him he was a shitty reporter."

            "I don't think you lied."

            "I didn't," Jensen said, "but that doesn't mean he's not going to destroy me. Or call me a diva. Say that if I hadn't met you—"

            "Keira Lim wanted to cast you in her movie before you met me," Miles said, "so he can fuck off with that bullshit because you made it on your own."

            "That doesn't mean he's not going to print the story," Jensen said, "demonize me in every way he can 'cause he probably gets paid by the word."

            "Jensen," Miles said. "What he writes doesn't matter."

            "It kind of does."

            "It doesn't define who you are."

            "That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," Jensen said. "Being told your entire career is based off someone else. Being told your costume is tight. Having people ask what kind of underwear you're wearing in said costume."

            "It's really getting to you, isn't it?" Miles' eyebrows knit together. "I have an interview tomorrow. About Walker Studios, projects that have been greenlit, what we're looking toward in the future. Do you want me to bring it up?"

            "I'd hate to say it," Jensen said, "but you trying to defend me is only going to make it worse. I think we both know that."

            "Right." Miles pressed his lips together, his forehead creasing. "What are you going to do?"

            "I have to go tomorrow," Jensen said, "and then I have the day off."

            "That's good."

            "Maybe it'll help me feel like I can breathe again."