Hollywood press came and went. Month nine of pregnancy came and went. Jensen's first night back in her own bed came and went. Weeks came and went. Rocky's birthday passed. Then they were past her due date by a couple days. Which made Jensen grumpier by the hour.

            "God, I didn't realize there was this much during the party," Miles said.

            "I didn't realize I'd still have a baby in me at this point in the month but here we are."

            "Honest to God, Miles," Dayna said, sitting on the arm of the couch, "if you don't go upstairs and sex that baby out of her, I'll do it myself."

            "I'm not going to—" Miles' arms dropped at his sides, a garbage bag in his hand. "And you're not going to either."

            "You can carry them in your stomach for the rest of their time inside a body which should have not been longer than two days ago," Jensen said. "Honestly."

            "I'm not sure that's going to work with my specific set of—"

            "Where's the closest Indian restaurant?" Dayna asked, interrupting Miles. "I don't want to deal with this anymore."

            "Try something with jerk," Liberty said as she walked into the room, arms full of paper cups. She dropped them into the garbage bag Miles held. "It's spicier."

            "We're not spicing our kid out of the womb, guys," Miles said. He looked at Jensen, who raised an eyebrow. "Are we?"

            Jensen crossed her arms. "Do you want plastic on our furniture for another day?"

            A couple days before Rocky's party, Miles and Jensen had covered their sitting room in plastic in preparation for her due date. There was a yoga ball in the room, and they'd made sure that everything had been sanitized that could have been sanitized. Miles had a hospital go-bag by their front door in case anything went poorly. Jensen had lots of room to walk around, Miles had already stocked a bookshelf with too many snacks and bottles of water.

            "I'm ordering jerk... potatoes," Dayna said. "Anyone want anything?"

            "I—no," Miles said, "Wait, stop. Dayna."

            "I'm not not calling unless baby mama tells me not to."

            "There were too many not's in that sentence," Liberty said.

            "Were not."

            Jensen put her hands on the small of her back and did her best to stretch. "We don't need jerk." She looked down for a moment, then back up at Dayna. "Unless we don't have a baby by tomorrow."

            "Rhodes, it'll happen soon."

            "When you have the uterus," Jensen said, "you can have the opinion."

            "Don't quote Friends at me just because you're annoyed."

            "Annoyed is putting it lightly," Jensen said. "For the record."

            Miles drew in a deep breath. "Thank you for letting me know."

            Jensen tore down a happy birthday decoration from the wall. "You're welcome."

            "Miles," Dayna started.

            "No."

            "Go upstairs—"

            "No."

            "Are you kidding me?"

            "The baby will come when they come and I'm sure it'll be any time now," Miles said. "Okay?"

            "Are you wasting paternity days on this?" Liberty asked.

            "We have a great paternity program," Miles said, "I did it myself, thank you very much."

            "You didn't have a paternity program when Robert worked there?" Liberty asked.

            Dayna snorted. "Have you met Robert?"

            "No," Miles and Jensen said at the same time.

            Liberty pointed to Jensen and Miles. "That."

            "Consider yourself lucky," Dayna said.

            "Can we please get rid of these decorations?" Jensen asked. "I don't want the house looking like a fucking comic book when the baby decides to finally make their appearance." Jensen looked at her stomach. "Which should be any fucking time now. Hint, hint."

            "Rhodes, take a breather."

            "I'm going to lose my mind."

            "Jensen," Liberty said.

            "Don't say it." Miles shook his head.

            "You're losing it a little bit already."

            Jensen poked her tongue into her cheek. "Thank you. For that."

            "Maybe," Dayna said slowly, "we should split up and search for decorations."

            "I call Dayna," Liberty said.

            Dayna hopped off the couch and linked her arm with Liberty's, dragging her out of the room.

            Jensen looked at Miles. "It's that bad?"

            Miles pursed his lips for a moment. "Do you want the supportive husband answer or do you want the honest answer?"

            "Honest. Always."

            "You're like a fucking... hornet, Rhodes," Miles said. "It's like every little thing is pissing you off."

            "It is."

            "And we get that," Miles said, "But it's not our fault."

            Jensen sighed and ran a hand across her face. She stared at the pictures on the wall. Miles had rearranged them again and put a picture he'd taken of the two of them in the theatre before Six had started. She looked back to him. "No, it's not."

            Miles stared at her for a moment. "You're really uncomfortable, aren't you?"

            "I'm not going to say anything because no shit sounds mean."

            "You know by saying you're not going to say anything—"

            "I know." Jensen clamped a hand over her mouth. "God, I'm terrible."

            "No you're not. You're just... you know." Miles frowned. "Very pregnant."

            "Thank you for letting me know."

            "I'm on your side, Rhodes."

            "I'm sorry."

            "Did I hear an apology?"

            Jensen turned to see Liberty poking her head around the wall to see into the living room. She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sorry."

            "Thank God," Dayna said, walking around the corner. "'Cause there were no decorations anywhere down here."

            "Did you even look?" Miles asked.

            "Nope," Dayna said. "We hid."

            "Hid." Liberty made air quotes and ran a thumb across her bottom lip.

            "Do you promise you're not going to be mean if we stay in here?" Liberty asked.

            "I promise to try not to."

            Miles' phone rang. Jensen turned, his eyes widened.

            "Who the fu—" He pulled the phone from his pocket. Miles frowned, he put his phone to his ear. "Hello?" Miles' face dropped. "Absolutely not." He put a fist to his forehead. "Our kid is due any time now." He hit his forehead. "No." Miles sighed. "Yes, I went to London without telling anyone." He ran a hand through his hair. "Can I attend virtually?" Miles scoffed, loud enough that whoever was on the other end of the phone call likely heard him. "Because I need to be home, that's why."

            Jensen bit her lip. If this phone call was what she thought it was...

            "Does this have to be today?" Miles asked. He dragged a hand down his face. "Well, why didn't we do it before I was on paternity?" Miles' face dropped. "Right. London." He swallowed hard. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. But I'm leaving my phone on. Not up for debate." Miles paused. "Yeah. Bye." Miles sighed and stuffed his phone in his pocket. "Fucking idiot."

            "Leave soon?" Dayna asked.

            "I—" Miles looked at Jensen. "We were supposed to have a mid-year AGM."

            "It's September," Liberty said.

            "Which is why they're not happy it hasn't happened yet," Miles said, turning to Liberty.

            "Good paternity program," Liberty mumbled loud enough for them all to hear.

            "Aren't you in charge?" Dayna asked.

            "Bruce Wayne's in charge of Gotham Enterprises and still gets in shit all the time."

            "You did not compare yourself to Batman." Dayna rolled her eyes.

            "You're not seriously going to leave," Liberty said. "Come on, Miles."

            "I don't really have a choice." Miles' eyebrows knit together as he looked at Jensen again. "I'm sorry. And I'll have my phone on and you can call—"

            "You should go," Jensen said. "It's fine."

            "And I promise I'll leave as soon as you do—" Miles paused. "Are you sure?"

            Jensen nodded.

            "Are you nuts?" Dayna asked.

            "Hey," Liberty said, snapping her fingers at Dayna, "it's her choice."

            "I haven't had any contractions," Jensen said with a shrug, "we have time."

            "If this is happening today, please call me the second you feel anything."

            "I will."

            Miles sighed. "You're sure?"

            "Promise me you're not going to stunt drive home if this happens," Jensen said, "and I'm sure."

            "I promise."

            "Then you should go, don't make them angrier."

            Miles stepped forward and kissed Jensen quickly. "The second anything happens—"

            "I'll call you," Jensen said, "Drive safe. Text me when you get there."

            Miles looked at Dayna and Liberty. "You have Tina's—"

            "Yes," Dayna said, "we both have Tina's phone number. And we'll stay here until your stupid meeting is done."

            "I have a class." Liberty motioned to her outfit indignantly. "And office hours."

            Jensen narrowed her eyes and almost slapped herself. Liberty had on white shorts over a pair of leggings, a long sleeve black shirt, with white sneakers. Her hair was tied up into two space buns. Only Liberty Faith would manage to walk into their house dressed as Steamboat Willie and not be questioned about it.

            "I'll stay here," Dayna said. "And should anything happen, I'll take Rocky out until it's done."

            "Free babysitting means no diaper duty, though," Liberty said.

            "Rocky is potty-trained," Jensen said.

            "I'm thinking Jamaican food as well. As a snack," Dayna said.

            "Dee," Liberty said gently, "if Miles is leaving, we don't want the baby to come."

            "I wouldn't protest leaving." Miles wrinkled his nose.

            "And I wouldn't argue having them out of me."

            Liberty held her hands up. "Fine. But I want pictures."

            "Of what?" Jensen asked.

            "The baby," Liberty said, "God."

            "Were you two not there last time?" Jensen looked between Liberty and Miles. "This is going to take more than a couple hours."

            "Rhodes," Miles said, "tone it down."

            "Sorry."

            "Don't you have somewhere to go, Milo?" Dayna asked.

            "Thanks, mom." Miles sighed and started walking toward the door. He slid his canvas trainers onto his feet.

            "Are you going to change, babe?" Jensen asked. "It's an AGM."

            Miles looked down at his sweatpants and crop hoodie. "Um. You know?" He shrugged as he looked at Jensen. "I don't actually care."

            "At least grab a blazer."

            "I think I have one in the car."

            "Miles—"

            "Bye!" Miles said, "I love you! Please call me!"

            "Ever the professional, your husband," Dayna said with a laugh.

            "He was your friend first."

            Dayna laughed. "And I'm pretty sure that was my hoodie, so..." She nodded. "Yeah. I should've raised him better."

            "We're ... going to let him go to work like that?" Liberty asked.

            "I've seen you dressed as Christian Grey to teach a class before—" Jensen started.

            "It was pornography in film week and it was a third year class."

            "Can I audit that class next time you teach it?" Dayna snorted.

            Liberty cleared her throat. "I should go to school."

            "Oh, now you're shy?" Dayna laughed. "Not when it's Doctor Faith will see you now?"

            "I'm leaving."

            "Come back in that Christian Grey costume, will you, stud?" Dayna asked.

            "I—" Liberty snorted. "Bye."

            "Jensen got an I love you and a kiss."

            "Jensen wasn't asking for kinky costumes." Liberty took Dayna's hand and kissed the back of it.

            "Maybe I think you look nice in a suit."

            "Is that why?"

            Dayna snorted. "Nope."

            Liberty laughed as Jensen drew in a sharp breath and put a hand on her stomach. She sat down on the couch quickly and winced.

            Dayna's eyes widened. "Please tell me that's you being uncomfortable with our flirting."

            "Yup," Jensen said, still bracing herself. "You're totally disgusting."

            "Do you want me to call Tina?"

            "Maybe."

            "Miles?"

            Jensen shook her head. "He's still driving."

            "Miles said the second something happened—" Liberty started.

            "He'll find a way to turn around on the highway if you call him right now."

            "Jensen, is this the real thing?" Dayna asked.

            "We'll have so long to wait," Jensen said. "He might as well go to his meeting."

            "Jensen Rhodes, you said you would call him," Liberty scolded.

            "Give him a couple hours to not think about this."

            "Do you even know him?" Dayna asked. "He's a fucking puppy."

            Jensen sighed. "I know—"

            "All he does is pout and put his head in your lap until you tell him what's wrong."

            "I'm aware," Jensen said, "thank you."

            "Imagine that pouting face on your lap after this baby arrives," Dayna said, "because you didn't call him the second you felt something different."

            "Let's not."

            "You're going to be exhausted," Dayna said, "and he's going to want to pout and ask why you didn't call him right away. You won't get to sleep because he'll be sulking. Like a little baby puppy who wants to feel loved and doesn't because his wife—"

            "Damn it, Dayna," Jensen said. She ran a hand down her face.

            "She's got a point, Jens," Liberty said.

            "Fine," Jensen said, "call him. But if you can hear the car, don't tell him."

            "He's probably in the Tesla," Dayna said.

            "Dee," Liberty said, "I think that's the point."

            "Oh," Dayna said, "shit. Right."

            "I—" Jensen started, "I'll call him. Can one of you call Tina, please?"

            "I got it," Dayna said. "Should I ask if I can give you something for the pain?"

            "Um. No. Thank you."

            "I have a degree."

            "I know you do."

            "Offer's there whenever."

            "Lovely," Liberty said, "I think a certain midwife should be called. Now."

            "Right." Dayna grabbed her phone and dialled quickly. "I'll be back."

            "Not the time for Terminator references, Dee. Okay?"

            "Not everything is a movie reference."

            "Phone, please."

            "Yes, hi, Tina!" Dayna said, sticking her middle up at Liberty as she walked out of the room. "Baby mama's starting to feel contractions." She paused. "I'm Dayna, godmother, can provide epidurals upon request."

            "No!" Jensen said.

            "If it's desired," Dayna said, closing the door behind her.

            "I'm the godmother, right?" Liberty asked.

            Jensen let out a small laugh. "You can share godmother duties. We don't care."

            "How are you feeling?" Liberty asked.

            Jensen looked up at her with a questioning look.

            "Coming from someone who's not going to potentially stick a needle in you at any moment." Liberty helped Jensen get up. They walked as slow as Jensen needed to the sitting room.

            "Like I'm going to push a kid out of me," Jensen said as she sat on the yoga ball. "You?"

            "I'm feeling like you should call your husband."

            Jensen sighed. "You really think I should—"

            "Yes," Liberty said. "God, if nothing else, get him out of that meeting."

            Jensen didn't have time to protest before Liberty pushed a button on her phone and pressed it against Jensen's ear.

            Liberty gave her a regretful look. "We've had Tina and Miles on speed dial for months."

            "Liberty?" Miles said on the phone. "Hello?"

            Jensen jumped. And grabbed Liberty's other hand as another contraction came. She squeezed tightly. "Um. Hey. Babe."

            "Jensen?" Miles said. "Labour?"

            Jensen let out a small groan. "You could say that."

            "Shit," Miles said, "okay. I'm on my way."

            "Please drive safe."

            "I'm going to handbrake u-turn on the highway."

            "Miles, not the time—"

            "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I'm sorry," Miles said, "I'm freaking out."

            "Can you grab a taxi please?"

            "Will it make you feel better?"

            "Astronomically."

            "I'll be there soon, Rhodes. Hold on. Um. That came out wrong," Miles said. "Just... you know. Breathe. And whatever."

            "Thank you," Jensen said, "for that stellar advice."

*

Jensen walked around the room for ages when Tina arrived. She leaned against furniture. Bounced on the yoga ball. When Miles got home, she squeezed his hand until it turned purple. He didn't let out a single complaint. Jensen did. Jensen said many words, mainly curses. Tina talked her through breathing and checked dilation as she needed to. Contractions were getting closer as moments passed.

            The sunlight faded. Day turned to night. Jensen spent hours walking around, bouncing on a yoga ball. Squeezing Miles' hand. Tina checked her dilation again.

            "Ready to push, Jensen?"

            Jensen took a deep breath and nodded. Sweat beaded on her forehead, hair stuck to her temples.

            "You've got this." Miles pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He held one of her legs with his free hand, the other continuing to be squeezed by Jensen.

            Jensen pushed when she was instructed. When she felt contractions. Being home was better than being in the hospital. She appreciated Tina being there and not cameras.

            When Jensen had Rocky, there were too many cameras. Cameras that followed Miles' car to the hospital. That tried to get into the room and had to be fought off to keep Jensen's pain off the front cover. Cameras weren't allowed past gates and security at home. They shouldn't have been allowed past the waiting room, but Dante had found a way. He always did. Even with him in jail, Jensen didn't want to take any chances.

            Being home was comfortable. Jensen knew her surroundings. No flashes blinded her as she focused on pushing. Listening to Tina, gentle with her words. Letting Jensen know where she was with their baby and when she could push. That she was close to being done in less time than with Rocky.

            Sweat dripped down her forehead, gasping breaths escaped her lips. Jensen pushed again as her fatigue kicked in. "Tina—"

            "You're doing so great, mom," Tina said, "a couple more pushes and you're done."

            Miles took his hand off her leg to push stuck hair off her forehead. He took her leg in his hand again. "Almost there."

            "I'm so tired."

            "Big push right now."

            "I can't—"

            "Yes, you can," Tina said. "One at a time. Right now."

            Miles squeezed Jensen's hand gently—which was a lot nicer than Jensen was being to his—as she clamped her eyes shut. Pushing hard as another contraction came, she groaned loudly. Jensen took in a couple gasping breaths.

            "Next one should be the last one, mom," Tina said. "You're almost done."

            "Doing amazing, Rhodes."

            "Keep breathing," Tina said, "you've got another big push."

            "Oh, God."

            "Big push and this is all done, mom," Tina said.

            And Tina was right. Jensen gave one push. Let out a yell. Squeezed Miles' hand like she'd been doing for hours. God, the sound of crying had never been so relieving.

            "Mom and dad," Tina said, carefully handing Jensen their crying newborn, "congratulations on your baby boy."

            A tired smile dressed Jensen's lips as she tried to catch her breath. Miles wrapped an arm around hers as they gazed down at their baby. Wiggling in her arms, first breaths in the outside world. Jensen could've cried. She looked up at Miles, who quickly wiped the tears off his cheeks with his free hand.

            Miles kissed her temple. "You did great."

            "Mom, take a rest. We'll help you upstairs in a little while," Tina said. "I'll clean up. I'll be here for you, and I'm just going to need to take measurements and make sure everything's in order, okay?"

            "Take your time," Miles said.

            Tina gently took the baby from Jensen's arms and walked over to where they had set up a swaddling station and Tina had placed her equipment. She measured him and weighed him. Cleaned him off. Jensen felt like she couldn't take her eyes off him, despite how heavy her eyelids felt.

            Miles took Jensen in his arms. "You did amazing."

            Jensen leaned against him. Still sweating, out of breath, tired. But their baby was there and as far as she could tell there were ten fingers and ten toes and that was what mattered. Jensen pressed a kiss to Miles' neck.

            "I know you have to register him," Tina said, "but do we have a name picked out?"

            Miles looked at Jensen, who nodded gently.

            "Beckett," Miles said. Jensen could hear the smile in his voice as Tina handed Miles their son, cleaned and swaddled in a soft blanket Jensen had bought months before. "His name's Beckett."