Maris had been in a strange state of mind after the procedure.

It had been just as awkward as she expected, which meant she spent the first few days post insemination in a kind of haze, doing her best not to replay every completely invasive moment. Once that started to fade, the urge to interpret every little headache or stomach cramp as some sort of sign it had worked began to creep in, but Maris let those hopes fall as quickly as they rose. She wasn't about to get ahead of herself or even think about the possibility of being pregnant too much. Finding out otherwise was bound to be a crushing blow. Especially since she wasn't the only one who would experience it.

Thankfully their trip to Berlin was doing exactly what it had been designed to do: take their mind off things.

Germany had a probably well deserved bad reputation. It was portrayed as stern and repressive. Berlin probably conjured up images of a wall rather than a haven for bohemians and members of their community, but it really was the best Germany had to offer.

Maris held tight to her wife's hand, smiling as she saw another couple (a pair of gay men) doing the same stop to look at a flyer for an upcoming Christmas drag show but festive drag queens weren't the only thing on offer in Berlin.

Germany was known for it's Christmas markets and despite Maris not being a Christmas person (or even really celebrating it without Rory in the picture) she decided they should go check it out since they wouldn't have the chance any other time.

It was chilly enough for Maris' nose and cheeks to feel a bit of a sting. Her short hair meant a beanie was a must if she didn't want the tips of her ears to go numb during their walk. It was black just like the pea coat she'd been wearing for a few winters now. The outfit she was wearing underneath was similarly typical even if things were out of the ordinary in ways neither of them seemed to notice just yet.

Maris had no real ties to Germany. No good ones, anyway. She'd never really dug into her ancestry precisely because she was Jewish and didn't want to hear some grim Holocaust story that was bound to be in there somewhere, but as far as she knew her family (at least on her father's side) was Greek. She'd taken German because well... she'd always had a bit of a superiority complex.

Her classmates had bickered fighting to grab coveted, limited spots in French or Spanish class. Maris had willingly taken German to go against the grain. Her own, slightly pompous, nerdy version of being not like other girls.

Was it cringe in hindsight? Definitely. Was German largely useless, especially in comparison to Spanish? Also yes, but she'd had fun joining an exchange program after she had two years of the language under her belt. Berlin was a place with some pretty good memories for her and she hadn't had a proper visit since then. She was eager to show Rory around.

And that she could speak something other than slightly stilted Hebrew when it came time to creatively tease her best friend or light the menorah.

"The beer's really good here," she said almost wistfully as they passed a bar. "And you know I don't even like beer."

Teenage Maris wasn't even supposed to have any during her stay, but kids always found a way to get their hands on what they shouldn't, even on school funded trips. Okay, it hadn't been that hard.

Hell, she hadn't even had to drink something out of a paper bag in secret. Despite looking very much her age, she'd been served something right off tap, further proof to the theory that Europe really did have a different attitude toward kids and alcohol than the one she and Rory grew up with back home.

"We might have to come back on the way home for pretzels and boozy cheese dip," she said, knocking shoulders with Rory playfully.

Pretzels? Also something the Germans really had going for them.

The cold was making their short walk to the center of town to get to the market seem longer than it was. Maris kind of loved how walkable Europe was in general and not just because she was kind of a terror behind the wheel.

After growing up in New York, it was what she was used to.

She lifted their clasped hands to her lips, kissing the back of Rory's before rubbing it to get a bit more circulation going. "Oooh, you're cold!" she yelped. "Still think we're a few degrees warmer than London though."

While Rory had of course respected her wife’s desire to go in for the procedure on her own, Rory had spent the time worrying, and the days afterward trying not to hover. It was sometimes a bit of torture, not being able to know exactly what was going on at any given time. It was an exercise in giving up any semblance of control… something she would certainly have to get used to with parenthood.

But it was done. And that feeling was as exhilarating as it was scary. Now they were playing the waiting game, and so it made sense that they could use this time to get away, and for her wife’s birthday to boot. Traveling gave them something else to focus on, and though Rory was a bit notorious for loving her lists, she let go of those as well as she packed and thought more about what they were going to be doing on this trip than stressing over bringing that extra top just in case.

Having never traveled anywhere in Germany, Rory was gladly taking a backseat to Maris’ tour guide. She loved exploring a new place with her wife, that same thrill of just walking around holding her hand never faded away. She hoped it never would.

Rory had selected a long tan coat to throw on, and a deep navy scarf, though she was regretting just wearing jeans and a light sweater beneath it. She did sort of wish that she’d even thought to bring gloves, but not to be so mushy about it, but she didn’t like when she couldn’t feel her wife’s skin against hers when they held hands anyway. She wore her hair down, but found herself pulling her scarf up a bit to cover her earlobes a little more. The weather really was similar to London, but for a native Californian, Rory forever had a little bit of trouble adjusting to the cold. Never mind she had now lived much of her life in colder climate.

It had made sense in high school for Rory to take Spanish, but it clashed so much with her somewhat-fluent Italian that she didn’t retain too much of it into her adulthood. She loved that Maris had learned German, and yes, she still maintained that Maris speaking German was sexy. To be fair, everything her wife did was so.

“Whoa, you like the beer?” Rory exaggerated a shocked look, but broke into a grin just a moment later. Rory wasn’t too picky about her alcohol, but had grown to have more sophisticated tastes thanks to her wife. Even with that said, she didn’t want to drink when Maris wasn’t either. Not because she thought her wife would mind, but because she wanted to show some solidarity.

“Oh you had me at pretzels. Think we can find somewhere to buy Lederhosen?” She teased with a grin of her own, leaning in closer to her wife after the playful bump, wanting to be closer still.

Rory laughed at her wife’s surprise, tucking her face against her shoulder and giving a noisy kiss to the curve of her neck while they walked. “It’s winter! My hands can’t get warm out here.” She chuckled, squeezing her wife’s hand as they walked. Rory took in the shops and people as they walked along, the whole town just seemed alive with a kind of festive joy that made her bounce a little bit with each step. Maris was right, this was a great distraction. “You’re going to have to hold me back from buying way too much holiday stuff when we get there.” She said with a serious tone, though that smile never strayed far from her lips. “Don’t let me buy a whole army of nutcrackers, no matter if the jokes write themselves.”

"It's entirely possible that I'm overselling the beer just because I really want some now that I can't have beer," Maris teased.

She could smell the fair before she saw it. There was all manner of food and drink stands lining the perimeter of the market and Maris could swear she heard her stomach growl as the scent of cinnamon sugar hit her nose.

"Oh, darling I'm the only nutcracker you need," she said, making the joke for her. "But speaking of nuts..."

She tugged on Rory's sleeve, pulling her toward the stand that tempted her. Warm, freshly roasted nuts were on offer and Maris pretty much immediately jumped in line to order some cashews coated in cinnamon sugar. She liked fair food as much as anyone, but it was slightly strange behavior. Maris liked to go out to eat before or after an event. She would have fit right in if she and Rory had taken a trip to Japan (where wandering around with a snack was considered impolite) because she'd always thought walking and eating was... well, sloppy. Not to mention inconvenient because you were stuck with one full hand, then carrying the container until you found a trash can, but she pretty much immediately dug in, offering her snack to Rory once she had a few.

"But I also personally find those little fuckers creepy so..." Maris scooped up a couple more. "And the uncle or whatever in the nutcracker story? Total creeper vibes. How is that a classic?" Maris started to wander into the actual market, not paying a stall that did personalized stockings much mind because she was pretty sure she and Rory already had some. "Hard pass on the lederhosen too."

Rory snorted a little laugh, bumping her shoulder into her wife's as they walked. "Yeah beer only tastes that good in your memory, or when you can't have it."

It gave Rory a little thrill to think about, the why Maris couldn't drink right now. Ever since the night they decided to go for it, Rory couldn't help how optimistic she was about the whole thing. The Universe still owed them, as far as she was concerned.

"Oh, you're clever." Rory laughed as she followed her wife over to the roasted nuts stand. The smell itself was enough to make her own stomach growl, something so quintessentially cozy about the warm spices. Rory couldn't help but notice that it was a little out of character for her wife to be so excited about a hand-food and not immediately want to find a spot to sit and eat them, but she chalked it up to the cold and having so much to look at and do while they were there.

Taking a handful for herself, she walked in stride with her wife. "Oh god, absolute creeper vibes." She wrinkled her nose as she popped another nut into her mouth. "I get the feeling that most ballets have some problematic undertones ... or overtones even." She rolled her eyes at her wife's vetoing the lederhosen as well. "You're just not letting me have any fun." She exaggerated as she reached for her wife's waist and pulled her in a little closer so she could press a playful kiss to her cheek. "Mm," She tasted a little errant sugar there, and so stole a proper kiss from her wife's lips. "I do want to bring home some decorations though. Mom said her Christmas theme is gingerbread this year, so expect a lot of photos coming in."

"I'm sorry, her Christmas what?" Maris asked, eyebrow raised. "Pardon my Judaism, but you're telling me the gentiles have a different theme every Christmas?" she teased before sliding her free arm through Rory's. "We'll find her something."

Maris popped some more cashews in her mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before tilting her head to the side. "What are we doing for the holidays?"

Now that they were coming up on the end of November, they didn't really have long to decide. But Maris was pretty sure she didn't want to go back to the states. It would be a rush to get to her father in time for Hanukkah and she and Rory had done more than fine during their first Christmas in England last year. Not to mention that between hormone shots and actually going in for the insemination, Maris was exhausted in every way a person could be.

There was a possibility they'd have a little more to celebrate this year and they'd definitely find out whether the procedure actually took before Christmas, but Maris had a feeling she'd want to spend time alone with her wife either way. If they did hear that they'd have a baby this time next Christmas, she wasn't going to tell anyone else, either. It would probably be best not to jump the gun in case her pregnancy didn't stick.

Their doctor seemed to love reminding them that more babies were lost than born, a little too realistic for even Maris' tastes.

Being a single mother was never easy for Evelyn Berlanti, but she made it look effortless a lot of the time. The holidays meant that she took on a very Martha Stewart type vibe, always with a new activity or a new craft for her daughters. It hadn't always been that way, but it had been as soon as Rory's father left them. She went into overdrive during the holidays, and now Rory knew she was overcompensating. Even with the help of her grandparents, Rory looked back at her mother like a super hero, someone who was able to roll with the punches and still give them so much.

Old habits died hard. "Oh yeah, mom loves a theme. Remember last year she did all pink and gold with the ribbons? It's an Evelyn Berlanti thing... I think most other families just drag out the same decorations every year." She laughed softly, though she felt a pang of missing her mom and sister. It was always more so around the holidays, which carried with them all the memories of holidays past. For so long, all Rory had was her mom and sister. Now she had even more, everything with her wife that was theirs.

Her wife posed a good question, and usually Rory would have had a whole plan by now. But they'd had many other things on their minds. "I want to stay home with just us." Rory said almost wistfully, a grin spreading across her face as she snuggled in a little closer to her wife.

"Mom does want to come visit soon though, she mentioned it the other day. I told her maybe spring would be best." Rory had the sudden thought that if her mother did come in a few months, that might actually be prime time that they could be giving her very big news.

It made her think, not that she wanted to jinx anything... so she hesitated a little bit before saying what was on her mind. "It could very well be our last Christmas and New Years, just the two of us."

What Rory said next caused Maris to lose her breath for a moment. "Well, when you put it like that..." she muttered. But the why she slid closer to her wife implied that Maris definitely liked that Rory had.

Still, her stomach couldn't help but knot with something that didn't just feel like worry. There was a healthy sprinkling of guilt, too.

"I don't-"

But she bit her tongue for once, thinking better of finishing her thought.

She didn't feel anything. Which meant she was sort of half convinced the procedure didn't take. Maris felt responsible, not just because it was her body doing all the work, but because she was the one who insisted they skip another round of shots and go for it.

She really needed to (wo)man up the next time they gave this a go and do more shots before rushing to the clinic again.

Not that she was eager to have another try at that either.

Still, there was a chance. And all the secret googling she'd done over the last few weeks to review, check and memorize all the symptoms of pregnancy stressed some women didn't feel any changes for even a few months.

It hadn't been a month yet, but Maris, as sure of and in tune with herself as she was thought it was weird she didn't seem to have a clue one way or another. Nothing had changed. Yet she still felt a bit different, something that could have been the shots fault. It didn't seem fair.

Where was that stupid women's intuition she'd spent her whole life hearing about?

She sighed a little, shoving more nuts in her mouth and crunching them with more force than was probably necessary. When she reached in for some more, she hit the bottom of the paper cone and blinked.

"Gone already?" she shrugged and tossed them into a trash can along the way, then used both hands to hold her wife a little tighter. "Maybe we could pop over and see your nonna before or after," she offered. "Italy isn't too far."

It would be nice to see some family on Christmas. Even if it wasn't Maris' own.

Rory wanted to temper her optimism and hope with a healthy dose of realism, but it was increasingly difficult not to just believe that their dreams would be a reality this time next year. It was a huge life change they wanted, but god, they wanted it.

She felt even a little bashful as her wife pulled her into her arms, her own circling easily around her body to hold her close. She hoped for them, she hoped that her wife wouldn't have to go through the hormone injections again. She just hoped.

Rory's gaze was steady on her wife, her throat tightening a little as she stopped herself from speaking. Rory could take a guess or two about what she was thinking, but either way, it made Rory hold her a little tighter.

"Whatever happens." She murmured quietly, not finishing the full thought because there were so many endings of the sentiment. Whatever happened, they had each other.

It was still early yet, and this trip was supposed to get their minds on other things. Rory kept an arm around her wife as they walked, wrinkling her nose a bit as Maris finished off the nuts.

"Oh babe I would love that. She would love that. She asks after you all the time." She said fondly, her smile ever present on her face. The way her family loved Maris, and particularly how her nonna did gave her a deep warmth in her heart. "Always when are you bringing your bella moglie back to me?" She giggled a little at the word for wife in Italian that always seemed a little bit silly. "She wants to teach us how to make pasta by hand next time."

"Your what?" Maris repeated, brain scrambling to translate before it clicked. "Oh wife, right. But homemade pasta does sound nice." Although Maris had an inkling it seemed like a little too much work and she'd probably go for dry noodles every time. Especially if they were a lot busier (not to mention tired) this time next year.

Even if that kind of seemed like a big if.

"I'd like to see her too," Maris said earnestly. She liked Rory's grandmother and was more than a little excited to finally have one by proxy. Hers had passed long before she was born and she had always wondered what having one would be like, especially since she'd loved her grandfather to bits.

Determined not to obsess or get distracted on a trip she'd been wanting to take for a while, pregnancy stress or none, Maris allowed herself to take a proper look at the displays. Ornaments shouldn't have tempted her much. With their individual collections pooled and more than a few bought together, they had more ornaments than tree space, but she'd always been a sucker for personalized ones, even if she was trying to avoid eye contact with pink bears and baby shoes just waiting for someone's name to be plugged in on the bottom.

"Oh that's inappropriate," Maris scoffed, nodding toward a coffee mug that said HOT FOR TEACHER. It was for teachers who bought into wine mom humor. Or Chads looking for something spicy to give their teacher wives who were probably a thousand times smarter than they were.

One of the things that had been so important to Rory when she was dating Maris, and then when she decided to marry her, was that her family loved her. Not that it would have ever been a dealbreaker because let’s all face it: Rory was meant to love Maris so fiercely and unchangeably. But it was important that her mother and sister, and then her grandparents felt that connection with her wife as well. For so much of her life, it had just been the few of them, and adding in another could take some time. Her mother was often warm on the surface, but real trust took some time to build. Her Nonna however, had a razor-sharp focus and discernment for people. She would say she could read people’s energies, whether it was just something to say or true, Rory would never know. But she had taken to Maris like a moth to a flame all those years ago when they first traveled to Italy together. Rory remembered it so fondly. It was where she and Maris first confessed their love for each other.

“We at least know we’ll eat well at her house, as per usual.” Rory said with a little smirk, bumping her wife’s hip gently as she said it. It made her feel warm, just hearing that Maris wanted to see her grandmother as well. Rory never liked to this about it, but she knew as her grandmother approached her nineties (HOW?), the time they had together was all the more precious.

The market made Rory think about traditions, and the kind that they’d want to create around their own family. She wondered if maybe they’d want to collect a new ornament for each of their kids every year, until they were old enough to pick them out. Or maybe that this market would be a yearly trip. Or that they’d bake cookies and make a mess in their kitchen. Her heart panged with a longing she didn’t want to give into, so she busied herself with looking at the ornaments as well.

“Oh. Oh no.” Rory wrinkled her nose at the mug that her wife pointed out. “I mean, I can say it because I always am and we keep that to ourselves, but putting that on display on your desk? Could you imagine?” She gave a shudder just thinking about it, but in doing so, she looked around and spotted another booth. “Oh, I need hot chocolate. And not in this mug.”

"That just gives students an excuse to sing that horrible Motley Crue..." She paused. "Van Halen? Whatever terrible 80's hair band's song to you."

Maris had spent most of her career teaching at sex segregated schools. It was a conscious choice. She liked the idea of helping girls. They were so easily discouraged, steamrolled, talked over and distracted by their male counterparts. But she hadn't really had a choice when just starting out so her student teaching and first real job had all been coed.

She'd had a male admirer named Trevor that first year. He was mostly harmless, lingering around after class to tell her historical tidbits he'd clearly looked up the night before to impress her, complimenting her outfits or her hair (which had been far longer back then, nearly skimming her waist because she hadn't figured out how freeing a shorter haircut could be). He hadn't exactly made her uncomfortable, but it wasn't an experience she ever wanted to repeat. One that was a little more complicated for her than most given her complex history with Caroline.

She'd never make the same mistake as her old professor and they had both been adults during their little entanglement but Maris really didn't like the idea of even inadvertently being in her shoes. In a situation like that you couldn't help but wonder if you were somehow encouraging someone.

High schooler's feelings were more fragile than most.

She was just glad she'd never had another lovesick student on her hands.

Well, as far as she knew.


Maris had been watching her sugar intake. Preparing for pregnancy played a role, but she'd mostly just been shocked when she finally looked at the back of the bottled iced coffee she tossed in her refillable tumbler before work every morning and found out she was basically drinking a diabetic coma in a bottle. But hot chocolate did sound good so she let her wife lead the way.

"You know I bet you've had about a thousand students half in love with you," she teased once they claimed a spot in line, her tone implying she definitely was. "Besides, they say all the little gays get attached to their English teacher. Someone got the cool subject."

"Ugh, no thank you." Rory replied with a wrinkled nose, shaking her head at the idea of it.

Their very nature as educators put them into a certain orbit where they were expected to keep a very bold line between themselves and their students. In most cases this was completely easy, wave to students as they came in and left her classes, but Rory also had the complication at times of feeling invested in her students. Of course that was normal, but she liked to make sure they felt listened to and that their interests were encouraged (as long as they were productive ones). Sometimes this made the occasional student get a little too attached. As much as Rory adored her kids (some more than others, naturally), her life was her own and she didn't take too much home with her beyond the normal amount.

"Oh yes, I'm Himeros leaving poor unrequited heartbroken teenagers in my wake." She laughed softly, shaking her head as she hugged her wife in a little tighter. It might have been the cold, but really, she just felt the need to be impossibly close. "That is true though. The amount of baby gays who I have become accidental counselor to is ... a lot."

That went back to how much Rory cared for them, and while she was firm and commanded plenty of authority in her classroom, she was a bit of a softie for her students. Especially those who were going through things she'd been through in her own youth.

"I had a student in Maine one year, Junior and Senior years. I think I was the first person she came out to, which was sweet. But it took me all until the end of her senior year to realize that she had a giant crush on me. She brought me flowers." She laughed softly, shaking her head. "Sweet, but I didn't quite know what to do with all that."

"Himeros!?" Maris repeated, shaking her head with a laugh. "That was a very niche reference, darling. No wonder you're beating them off with a stick," she teased.

A crush during Rory's time in Maine made sense. Maris had a feeling she would have picked up on Rory having an admirerer when she was in the picture.

She probably would have teased her wife mercilessly for it, but in no way faulted the poor kid.

How could she blame them?

"Flowers?! Oh come on, Rory. That is blatant."

Maris had a student come out to her, emboldened after hearing Maris toss a story about an old girlfriend visiting a civil war battlefield with her into a lesson. She had a feeling she was pretty clockable as a lesbian, but she'd never really helped out another kid struggling with things since.

Maris was an intimidating woman. A lot of it was innate but some of the wall she'd put up between her and her students was by design thanks to the whole Caro situation and her desire not to repeat it. She wasn't overly warm. She had a feeling some kids were reluctant to come to her for help with school work and as much as she joked about how much she liked being the "scary teacher" on staff that didn't sit right with her.

Especially lately.

Would their kids be scared to come to her too?

She didn't think so. People said things were different when you interacted with your own kids vs someone else's. She didn't put up a front at home with Rory, but she was still a little worried.

She wasn't sure she was a nurturing sort.

Maris sipped the peppermint hot chocolate she ordered, then finally asked the question aloud, seemingly apropos of nothing. "Do you think I'm scary?" The question came out sharply and Maris ducked her head a bit, knowing her sharp edges were kind of the problem. "I don't know. Kids don't seem to... take to me."

"I've been doing some Greek research lately. Gotta keep things spicy." Rory said with a laugh, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at her wife.

Rory was a bit naive about these things, at least when it came to her students. Okay, she had been pretty dumb about Maris' attraction to her in the beginning, all before a fateful trivia night changed all of that. But her students having a crush on her just seemed so weird to her. So she didn't often pick up on it until it was too late and the poor kid was a bit invested.

"It was the end of the term! I thought she was just being a little kiss ass!" Rory laughed out loud, glad that there was really zero chance of running into said former student all the way here in Germany.

The pair of them really were different in the teaching styles, but Rory always really admired her wife. She was so smart, and of course, that paired with everything else Rory knew about her wife, was insanely sexy. Rory had always loved her teachers who were more authoritative than others. She got the most out of them, and knew that she wasn't getting the flowery bullshit ... which... come to think of it, she sometimes put into her lessons for fun. Oh well.

"What?" Rory blinked at her, barely able to keep the grin from taking over her features. "You're not scary, baby." She shook her head, unable to think of a single time she'd ever had that thought. "You're intimidating sometimes. But that's a big positive. I mean, I was scared as hell to talk to you in the beginning, but that was not because you're scary." It had everything to do with Rory's legitimate gay panic.

"Your students admire you. I see that every day." Rory loved to see that in her wife, loved the way she'd catch a student she'd have in one of her own classes talk about Maris with even a bit of awe. Teenagers weren't very effusive about their teachers, rightly so, but she recognized it.

"Are you worried about that?" Rory asked softly, sliding her arm tighter around her wife and pressing herself in closer to her after they'd shifted in line. "Remember when we watched Emily and Charlie? They took to you like bees to honey."

Maris smiled at the memory, unable to believe that had happened at least two Christmases ago. "I know, but... I kind of figured that was a fluke," she said with a shrug.

Maris had been raised as a mini adult. She had no siblings. Her grandfather was obviously older and her father was an academic who hung around people who were more focused on knowledge than family. She had no baby cousins. The only other kid she ever hung around with was Eli, who was the youngest in his family.

None of her friends had kids which meant Maris had never really had a chance to put even her babysitting abilities to the test.

She was of the mind that teenagers were mature in their own way and certainly shouldn't be babied, but they were still kids.

And nowhere near the same as what she and Rory would be tackling soon enough.

"I've never been around small children, you know that. Not for any real extended length of time."

"There's no fluke with that, babe." Rory meant it. The memory was sharp in her mind, the way that Charlie seemed absolutely enamored with Maris. How Emily loved coloring with her. She remembered sitting with her wife then, before she held that title, and thinking one day we'll have our own. And now here they were, a couple of years later and ready for that part of their journey.

Rory had become a bit of a default babysitter when she was younger, though Maggie was only a little under four years younger than her. She wasn't exactly a fish to water in holding her little sister, but she loved playing babies with her, even then. She'd done her fair share of neighborhood babysitting, but was no babysitter's club member. In short, even if she did have practice when she was younger, Rory would be a bit rusty.

Teenagers were who she had always wanted to teach. Even though some of her teacher friends would joke that younger students were "easier", teaching colors and numbers and basic spelling, Rory knew none of that was for her. But now the idea that they would have their own children to help grow up and shape so beautifully, Rory reveled in the idea.

"I know." Rory said thoughtfully, but smiled as she said it. "But I think the fact alone that you're worried about this shows how amazing you are going to be. Besides, they'll be ours, and nobody is going to love them like we do. The rest, we'll figure out as we go." The thought that they would have that opportunity caused a swell of butterflies in her stomach. "Just gotta remember to support the head." She grinned, leaning in to kiss her wife's lips before she pulled just slightly away in order to sip at her own hot chocolate.

Maris smiled back, feeling a little better after Rory's pep talk. Now that their family was finally within reach, she found herself thinking a lot about her own. She'd been well looked after and with her dad and grandpa looking after her, she'd had more love and supervision than a lot of kids, but her both Forrester men had valued independence. Maris was encouraged and allowed to do things for herself as soon as she was able. It was a good system. Because Maris probably would have rebelled against being babied anyway. She wasn't sure she had a nurturing figure. On some level she was worried about that too. There was a distinct lack of a good, female role model in her life and she did recently secretly found herself envying people who did have a maternal figure to help them with navigating pregnancy and motherhood. There were things her father would never be able to talk to her about or help her with.

Now that it was getting down to the wire, Maris was suddenly very aware of how much parenthood was going to be solely on their shoulders.

That was the way it should have been, of course. That was the way Maris wanted it if all her speeches about not wanting to deal with medeling doctors or parents giving them advice or causing too much of a fuss, but... they really were on their own in England.

Someone being a call, text or email away wasn't quite the same as seeing them face to face. Not to mention the childcare aspect. She and Rory were both working and while she knew daycare was a perfectly normal thing, she had never been to one as a kid since her grandfather made sure to be home when John wasn't. But their kids would never have a grandparent looking after her like she had. Not with any regularity anyway, a real loss for everyone, really. Including her and Rory. Having the option to send the kids to grandma and grandpa when they needed a break was a luxury they'd probably miss.

She wasn't sure what daycare was like. She wasn't sure if she wanted to send their child to one.

Maris was already wildly protective of someone who was only a hint of a possibility at the moment.

Even if she was also sure she didn't want to stop working for an extended period of time again. Staying home to work on her book had paid off in the end, but it had also felt strangely unproductive thanks to large gaps of time with no information (or inspiration) and thus, nothing to do. She liked getting up and going to work every day. She liked seeing people. Even if her students sometimes drove her crazy. She may not have known many parents but she did know too much time with a baby drove a lot of women crazy. It either wore them out or made them feel permanently stuck in mom mode, craving a time when they were treated like a functioning, autonomous adult rather than a diaper changing milk machine.

Maris didn't think Rory would let that happen but the point was that she was really thinking about a lot of things for the first time.

Even if she had overthought just about every aspect of motherhood already.

She gave her wife a little half hug, a thank you for easing her fears (and believing in her the way she sometimes didn't, at least in this department) then looked around the market. "Come more, I'm determined to find something for your mom. And your nonna too, I guess. If we're going to be seeing her sooner than we thought."

Maris may have loved Rory's grandmother, but living far from her for so long meant she didn't know her as well as other members of Rory's family.

Her stomach did a little flip as she came across a stand that smelled like freshly made chocolate. Just about every variety of truffle and chocolate covered treat was on offer and Maris couldn't help but feel a slight pang in her chest.

Her grandfather had loved sweets and often said all the chocolate on offer at Hannukkah and Christmas (which he didn't bother telling people he did't celebrate if it meant boxed assorted chocolates or homemade fudge) was the best part of the holiday season.

Even the gelt Maris had been given at Hanukkah had been nicer than your garden variety, although she wasn't sure where Adam had found chocolate coins that weren't your waxy, grocery store fare.

Eli always stuffed his pockets when spending Hanukkah at her house.

" Look, even the boxes are pretty. Does she like chocolates?" Maris offered, wondering if all grandparents were the same. "Oooh!" She said, pointing to chocolate covered Oreos sold by the box or the pound. "We're getting these for us," Maris said automatically. She didn't see prices, so she caught the owner's attention and asked in German.

The owner, delighted that a tourist was bothering to speak his language answered quickly and he and Maris had a short conversation that had her beaming by the end of it.

"Danke schön!" She turned to Rory. "He said that my sister and I are very beautiful." She smirked because they both knew she hadn't bothered to correct him. It was best not to ruffle feathers with someone you were about to do a monetary transaction with and it was meant as a compliment. Besides, Maris had always had a blast toying with people, especially men, who couldn't sense that they were a couple rather than family or friends. "He also says he has regular, mint, or white chocolate covered ones. He also made some with a layer of chocolate, Oreo and peanut butter. We have options, Rory. Also you can mix and match stuff in a box, doesn't have to be chocolate. They're thirty euros no matter what you pick except for the chocolate strawberries or those gold flecked truffle things. Oh and the smaller boxes are twenty."

Rory wasn’t ever the kind of person to say something just to say it, but more than that, she knew that Maris would be an amazing mother. She was on the receiving end of how deeply Maris was capable of loving. Of how protective she was. Of how witty and kind she was, too. All of these things, coupled with her desire to be a mother and a good one at that left Rory with zero doubts that Maris would be incredible. She could hardly wait to see it. Their kids really were getting some great parents, even if Rory sometimes worried she’d smother them with too much love and doting to a ridiculous level, she knew her wife would pull her back and make sure they had independent kids.

There was that old saying that it took a village to raise kids, and while Rory knew she and Maris were more than capable, she did wonder if they should start at least looking for more local friends, those who they could have a kind of community with. And probably, some borrowed baby furniture and clothes so they weren’t spending a fortune on a million gadgets.

Part of her really wished that their school had a daycare program there, or some sort of ideal situation for them to be able to bring their little one home. Rory already knew that she’d want to take some maternity leave as well, making sure that her wife was able to rest and recuperate. She smiled to herself just thinking about it, how ahead of themselves she was getting already. There were options of course, and finding a nanny wouldn’t be a terrible thing. Someone who could potentially become like family. Though that would certainly get pricey.

Rory already ached for this whole scenario, for their baby to get here already even if they were a long ways off, even in the best case scenario. She just knew already that the love she had for her wife was expanding at the very thought of their family growing, of her wife being pregnant, of giving them a child. It was enough to have her double over with emotion.

“Good idea.” She said with a nod, leaning over and kissing the side of her wife’s head before they started along the stalls a little further. There were so many things to look at, so many delicious smells, that she might have walked right by the chocolate booth if Maris hadn’t tugged her over.

“Oh god, yes.” She affirmed. Her Nonna absolutely had a sweet tooth, but being Italian, anything with sugar, butter, or carbs was always a hit. She was running her hands over a particular red box of sealed truffles when the man began to speak with Maris. She smiled, watching her wife. Maris often said that German wasn’t a pretty language, but she’d have to disagree; her wife speaking it was sexy and she would die on that hill.

Sister. Rory scowled a little, rolling her eyes even if he did mean well. Rory just grabbed her wife’s hand and held onto it, maybe standing a little closer than she had just a moment ago. “With peanut butter?? Um… do we just get an assortment? Or a box of each? We can eat our weight in Oreos and be happy little snow lady dumplings for the holidays.”