There were certain things that London had promised them when they'd made the move over from New York now almost two years ago. Number one was mild temperatures and a lot of rain. Their favorite. But Rory felt wholly unprepared for any other weather, and found herself rather delighted when springtime came around. Other than the onslaught of allergies, it was beautiful in the spring, sunny much of the time with the few cloudy days and showers interspersed. Summer however, was still a beast she was trying to get to know. Case and point: The heat wave that seemed to come out of nowhere. Rory usually liked to burrow next to her wife in bed, arms and legs in some sort of tangle or at least touching, but last night she'd slept without any covers, and resisted the urge to slink in closer to her wife, knowing that as warm as she was, Maris was even more so.

Even their air conditioning wasn't really doing it. "I think we should get a couple of fans to help circulate the air more." Rory mused as she came downstairs, in a blue sleeveless shirt and a pair of jean shorts that only went to about her mid-thigh. She felt very much the California girl she was, even in the middle of England.

"I poured you a little more than usual. Don't tell the doctor." Rory said as she handed her wife a tall glass of her iced coffee just the way she liked it.

The doctor. Today was another appointment so at least they could count on an absolutely frigid doctor's office, right? They still had some time before their appointment, but Rory was already excited about it. And as always, a little nervous. It was just the unknown, going in and getting a peak at how Keats was growing.

Rory plopped down next to her wife and sipped at her own iced coffee, sucking a smaller ice cube into her mouth and crunching on it. "If this heat persists, maybe we should go to a movie tomorrow. Those are always like ice boxes, too."

As a native New Yorker, Maris was used to hot, stuffy weather in poorly ventilated, cramped apartments that often lost power on the stickiest days of the year thanks to an overworked grid. Her current level of misery meant England was having an unusual heatwave and that she'd gone soft during her time there, or that pregnancy was really kicking her ass. She'd grown tired of being constantly hot, sweaty and flushed. Her cheeks and nose were slightly red, masking freckles that would have been on display even as she sat under a vent in the living room surrounded by plenty of water and sporting a black & white striped tee shirt dress she didn't even like because it was fairly shapeless because it was cool and comfortable and she had started to be a little less vain since becoming a vessel for another lifeform.

"You know, Jenna told me no one in the UK has air conditioning and I'm starting to feel like she was right. I found about four AC guys when I was googling and every last one of them said they're busy until next month. A movie definitely seems like the way to go. I'll go see Finding Nemo 4 at this point, I don't care. I'm going to have to get used to mindless kid movies sometime.

"You're a goddess, thank you," she purred, pressing a grateful kiss to her wife's cheek as she took her coffee. She took a long sip then carefully sat it on the living room table, jumping a little before grabbing Rory's hand to slide it under her ribs to feel the baby moving around, something that had been happening more and more often since that day in her classroom. "Ooh! See? Keats likes coffee. He's saying give me as much as I want."

Rory was a little uncomfortable, but she knew just by looking at her wife that Maris was hating the heat far, far more. "Maybe we should have moved to Norway or something. It's got to always be cold there, right?" Rory snorted a little, musing with a shake of her head. Rory would have even been the picture of some painting, fanning Maris with giant banana leaves and feeding her grapes if that's what would make her more comfortable. She settled for the coffee.

"Next month?! Fuck, we should have had them come when it was still cold. Rookie mistake I guess." She sat for a moment, pondering if she could look up how to properly service the AC. Ultimately though, she knew that would only end with her breaking the unit or electrocuting herself. Veto that idea.

Rory was getting used to the sudden jolt that had her wife swiftly reaching for her hand and pulling it to her belly. It was becoming one of her favorite things. Rory leaned in a bit more, her palm flat against Maris' stomach as she felt the rolls of movement beneath her fingertips. She marveled at it every time, the actual wonder of knowing that was their baby moving around in there. "Ooh, I think he knows as much as I want to give you both the world, I know better than to hype you both up on caffeine." She laughed, bending over to kiss her wife's cheek, and then dropping a kiss to her stomach, too. "I'll have two fiends on my hands."

"I'm taking it as a sign he's going to be an up with the sun, work all nighters entrepreneur whose going to buy us a yacht when his tech company takes off." Maris looked down at her stomach, teasing. "No pressure or anything, buddy."

In all seriousness, with a coffee in one hand and hers and Rory's on her stomach, Maris was as happy as she could remember being right now. She'd learned that talking when motion was happening usually prolonged it, but she liked soaking them in as a quiet, almost sacred moment between the three of them too.

Never quite satisfied and always pushing forward (even if it wasn't her feat to accomplish) Maris added. "Wait until he really moves and we can see feet and hands pushing out of there."

She wasn't entirely sure whether she'd be fascinated or terrified when the baby started pulling an Alien, but she couldn't wait to find out.

Maris nuzzled Rory's neck for a moment, her voice taking on an uncharacteristically whiney tone. "I'd lay all over you but it's hot. Stupid heatwave interrupting family bonding time. I wish we weren't using up our only day off on some dumb doctor's appointment."

She knew it was important to keep tabs on herself and the baby. She liked hearing all about it, but this visit was nothing if not routine. There wouldn't be anything new to hear or see. It was just a monthly check in and since the baby was obviously thriving, it seemed pretty pointless to a miserable Maris who knew she'd feel even worse once she had to venture out into the heat.

Especially on crowded public transport.

"She's not going to tell us anything we don't already know."

"Ooh I'm very into this idea of our kid buying us a yacht." Rory cooed, rubbing her fingers over Maris' stomach. "I mean a little pressure, your moms will love it." She winked at her wife, ignoring the sudden thrill of worry that somehow their baby had heard her and would indeed have some internalized pressure put on him.

Rory felt it too, the kind of reverence that settled in over the moment they were having. She felt Keats moving under her palm, a smile of actual awe on her face as she fought the urge to just drape herself over her wife and kiss her, and then put her face on her stomach to talk to their baby for a while, too. It was too hot for any of that, but the instinct was there.

"Oh my god. I forgot about that. Our little alien baby." She laughed suddenly at the thought, shaking her head as she sipped at her own coffee.

Rory hugged an arm around Maris as she nuzzled into her, goosebumps scattering over her skin as she kissed her wife's shoulder. "I know, it's unbearable. For a multitude of reasons." She whined back, her gaze a little dark with desire no matter how hot it was. But really, it would be a feat in this heat.

"Mmhm, but I'll get you an ice cream after and just think of how coooooold the office is going to be." She smirked, knowing if she had her choice, they'd stay right here and will a miraculous cold front to sweep over them so they could lay all over each other. Amongst other things.

"We'll get to see how much bigger he is, I guess? Though I did download an app that tells us how big he is in comparison to fruit. And camping supplies? I guess I could be a camping gay for this experiment." Her brow furrowed a little as she pulled out her phone to compare. "Oh! About the size of a bell pepper?"

"Look at you plying me with ice cream like I'm a child," she grumbled. But there was a smile on her face and they both knew Rory's bribery would work.

"A bell pepper?" Maris repeated, brow furrowed. Food and especially camping equipment seemed like very strange units of measure, but they weren't the only reasons why she was confused. "No, he seems way bigger. How can we feel things if he's that small?"

Although when Maris tried to envision birthing something even pepper sized, she felt her stomach (and other parts of her anatomy) clench in a very unpleasant way so she tried to focus on lightly nuzzling her wife's neck.

Rory's gaze hadn't gone unnoticed and as humid as it was, Maris wanted her too.

"I love you," she murmured against her skin. Then she added something she never had before. "Both of you..."

She started to kiss her neck, but just as she began to add a hint of teeth, Maris' cell phone buzzed on the table. She scooped it up to read a silly reminder text about her appointment in a few hours and sighed.

"Come on," she murmured, reaching for her purse on a nearby chair. "Let's get this over with."

"I know my wife." Rory smirked, kissing her cheek again. "Plus I'm greedy and I want ice cream too."

The app changed day to day, so Rory had to look it up and refresh their data all the time. But she laughed at Maris' response. "I think we're in that time when he's going to be growing like crazy. I'll make sure it's tracking properly when we're there today." It was a silly thing, but Rory liked to know how big he was getting. Of course, she didn't quite have to worry about that size of a baby coming out of her.

"I love you too." Rory purred into her wife's neck, a warmth flooding through her at Maris' addition. She hugged her wife a little tighter, kissing her shoulder, brushing her nose along her jaw. Drinking her in.

It was her turn for a little whine when they were interrupted, but she sighed and have Maris a noisy kiss to make up for it. "Alright alright." She said and stood up, reaching for her wife and pocketing her phone and keys so they could make their way out the door before they got it in their minds to cancel.

After a very stuffy, crowded train ride over, Maris was even less keen on heading to the doctor than she had been before, but she gritted her teeth as she went through the now familiar ritual of weigh ins, blood tests and questions. The fact that everything seemed "normal" and thus, exactly the same as their last minute had her even more annoyed that they'd had to make the trip to the office, but she was a little excited to see the baby up on the screen again.

And the gel wasn't quite so frigid on such a stiffling day.

It was clear the baby, or perhaps more accurately, the blob pulsing up on screen had gotten bigger since they'd seen it last, but it was still a bit imposible to sort out what exactly they were seeing.

Although the tech, a different, slightly more mature one than the one they'd had last time seemed to be able to decipher everything just fine.

"Oops! Baby wants to moon us today," she said with a laugh.

"That's a butt?!" Maris said a bit too loudly, turning a bit to try and get a better look. It didn't look like one, but she supposed she could sort of see that the baby's back was facing the camera. "Rude, Keats," she muttered.

"Oh they move a lot. You said yourself that you're starting to feel it. We'll probably get a... there we go, baby's on the move again."

Maris blinked. "I didn't know you could...see them moving around on this thing." It was probably a stupid thing to say. The probe was a camera after all. But she'd also never seen the baby actually in action before.

"Well, she's all legs! They take up half the screen! Going to be a tall one like mom, I suppose."

Maris smirked a little, feeling oddly pleased that the baby might take after her. In truth, she wanted as little of their donor's influence as possible. As far as she was concerned his part was over and done with.

"He," she said gently.

"Sorry?"

"He," she said, though she supposed it wasn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things. "They said we're having a boy last time."

The woman's brow furrowed a little as she moved the sensor around a bit. "No, I'm right between her legs and I don't see anything... this is a girl. Sometimes things are a little murky...." She trailed off as if she finally realized something. "Did Liz do your reading last time?"

Maris nodded slowly, pretty sure that was her name. "Ah, well, Lizzie just came to us. She's still a bit rusty. No, this is definitely a girl." She zoomed in on the picture a little, drawing a circle around where there wasn't...well, anything. "I hope you haven't painted the nursery yet."

Soon enough, Rory figured they'd need to have a car to take around town, especially with a little one in tow. Rory put that on her mental list for later, but god was it nice to be back in a city where public transportation was so readily available. London for all of its charm made her feel in rare moments when they were back in New York in the early days, though so much had changed since then.

But they'd become really good at navigating their new city, and were in the familiar doctor's office in no time at all. As predicted, it was nice and cool in the office, but Rory was barely paying any attention to the temperature. Being Rory, she was focused on making sure she was paying attention, ready to remember or even write something down that they'd need for future information or steps.

As soon as the shapes began to move around on the screen, Rory was transfixed. Like her wife, she wasn't entirely sure what the shapes were, and laughed out loud when their little one decided to moon the three of them. "Hopefully that's not a harbinger of a little Bart Simpson on our hands."

Her head snapped to look at the nurse when she referred to their baby as she. Only a moment after, was she smiling at the idea that their kid would be tall like Maris. She hoped so. She hoped he took after his mom in as many ways possible. Rory's hand squeezed her wife's as she corrected their nurse, but then she felt her heart ramming in her chest.

"What?" She said a little breathlessly, for whatever reason tears sprung to her eyes. It took Rory a full few moments to wrap her head around the sudden change of circumstances. Keats was who they had started to expect, a little boy that neither of them really had any idea how to raise, but had resigned themselves to figuring it out and letting that be an adventure. "She's a girl?" Rory's voice was soft, her heart in her throat as she looked at her wife and squeezed her hand again.

Maris' head was spinning. She had just started to come around to the idea of being a boy mom (and even tentatively starting to address the baby by name) and now someone was telling her something completely different. A naturally impatient person (at least when it came to people not doing their work, school or otherwise, incorrectly) already in a cranky mood on a hot day, she wanted to snap about how that was a pretty big thing to get wrong. She & Rory were honestly lucky they weren't the sort of people to go out and buy blue everything and start painting a baseball themed nursery the second they heard that sort of news. She almost wanted to haughtily ask this woman how she was sure now, but when she zoomed in it was pretty obvious there was nothing male there.

Maris was surprised by how relieved she felt, a sign that perhaps, she wasn't ready to be a boy mom after all. It wasn't that she didn't want Keats, just... well, she loved women. And she was kind of grateful that they'd be dealing with some sort of familiarity their first go around.

"Well, now I feel awful calling her he all the time. She's going to be really confused," Maris muttered.

She watched the image on the screen for a few moments, repeating the word daughter for a few moments before it sunk in. "And you're sure?" she said one last time.

"Oh yes, but I can send another tech in to have a look and give a second opinion if you like. Or there's a blood test you can take! There's even an at home version you two could do. You'd be ideal candidates for it, actually."

Maris stiffened a little. "A blood test? Would it hurt the baby?"

"Oh no, they take the blood from you, not the baby. It's just to see if you have male proteins in your blood. If you do, it's a boy. The results are easy contaminate if you do the home test but since you're both female... either way I'll fetch Dr. Parker to come have a look see. You two can talk amongst yourselves."

Not Keats. Sorry little one, but it was going to take a second to pivot from the image that they'd been creating thus far. They had been planning for fairly gender-neutral thus far, and probably would, but Rory was well aware that she'd sneak in a pink thing here or there - but that was true for whether or not they were preparing for a boy or a girl. Spring pastels were going to sneak in amongst the chic outfits.

Rory's head was spinning too, her gaze returning to the screen as though she really knew what she was looking at, but once the nurse began to point out certain shapes and what they were looking at, she actually did see what they were talking about.

She stayed quiet as the woman explained what sort of tests they could do, her hand squeezing her wife's in support, if that's what she wanted to do. The bit of a roller coaster they'd been on might warrant a third opinion here.

As soon as the nurse left, Rory let out a bit of a bark of a laugh as she sunk down onto the chair next to the hospital bed Maris was on. "Oh my god??" She laughed at the absurdity of it, not entirely delighted but a little giddy at the whole turn of events. "I'm sorry baby." She murmured as she slid her free hand to her wife's stomach. Turning her gaze to Maris, she smiled, brows arched in surprise. "How are you feeling about all of this?"

"That's a pretty big thing to fuck up on don't you think?" Maris hissed once she was pretty sure the tech was out of earshot. She didn't care (much) about the sex of their baby, especially in comparison to the mix up, but the fact that there was one was making her more than a little anxious.

What if they made a mistake about something that did matter next time?

And on some, probably silly level, she was a little embarrassed by addressing their baby wrongly all this time. The last thing she wanted was to start things off with what she now knew to be Jane on the wrong foot.

"Why are they hiring people if they don't know how to read the thing?" she continued. "How does she not know what a dick looks like?"

Okay Maris was hardly an expert in that department (especially when you considered she'd never even seen one up close) and she literally couldn't tell the baby's ass from it's elbow most of the time, but this wasn't her job.

"This is a medical facility. It's not like they gave us fries instead of onion rings or something. This is our child we're talking about."

Was she laying it on a bit thick and possibly venturing into Can I speak to the manager territory ? Possibly. But few things were more important to Maris than their baby.

"I mean, I guess I'm kind of relieved in a sense, but..." she muttered as an afterthought, not wanting Rory to feel too uncomfortable being on the receiving end of her ranting. "I'll do the blood test if they need me to," she added. "As long as they really don't go near it." She made a face before her eyes got comically wide. "See?! They have me calling the baby an it again!!!"

Maris was right, it was a massive fuck up. She supposed that it was something that happened from time to time, but it had to be way less with modern technology, right? “Yeah, it was. And I didn’t even think to question it, because why would we?” They had no reason to question what the first technician had told them, why would they have asked for a second opinion then?

It would have been really easy to get worked up alongside Maris. She felt a bit thrown for a loop over the whole thing, a quick pivot that took the entirety of their family on a different path than the one they were already planning for. It was a good thing, and she would love their little girl just as much as she would their son, but the whole thing felt like a bit of a roller coaster. Rory remained a little quiet, her mind running over itself while standing firmly by her wife’s side.

“I don’t think either of us could be accused of knowing our way around what a dick looks like, sonogram or not.” Rory huffed, feeling a rise in her energy that she couldn’t exactly get out. But as Rory stood there and listened to Maris rant a bit about the whole mix-up, there was another feeling that struck her so suddenly. She loved her wife, that much was a given, but there was a kind of awe that hit her when Maris muttered on about their baby. Their daughter. In Rory’s mind, it read as a fiercely protective kind of attitude from Maris over their child. It was goddamn beautiful.

Rory couldn’t help the little bubble of a chuckle that came up at Maris’ face, as she bowed towards her and dramatically dropped her forehead to Maris’ knee. “She might take a little bit of an adjustment. But it’s a good adjustment.” Rory had softened some as she looked up at her wife. “Careful not to get too attached if you do want to do the extra test but… we’re having a girl.” There was no denying how giddy her voice was, even if she tried to downplay it a little. Sorry Keats, your time will come.

A girl. The idea was taking a while to sink in and not just because she'd only found out she (might?) be having one a few minutes ago. Maris had spent a lot of time hung up on the idea of Keats even before she and Rory got pregnant but she had to admit the idea that their baby really might be a mini her (or better yet Rory) with traits that went beyond potential tallness was kind of thrilling.

The tech came back with a doctor and as snobby as it potentially made her, Maris knew she'd respect her opinion far more than even the sonogram operator who seemed to know what she was doing. A doctor had far more schooling under their belt.

"Alright let's have a look see, hmm?"

Maris tried not to sigh as more chilly goo was squirted onto her stomach and settled back as the probe was moved around again.

"Oh no, baby moved, I'm getting more of a side view. Okay no, wait, wait, there's turning..."

Maris squinted at the screen, desperately wishing her glasses weren't at the bottom of the purse Rory was currently holding for her.

Not that they would have helped. The image was just as indecipherable as ever. "Yup, that's definitely a girl. I'm not sure what Liz was seeing."

The doctor's tone and a knowing look tossed the other tech's way implied this definitely wasn't Liz's first screw up. Which had anger rising up along the back of Maris' neck again at the incompetence of it all but she tried to remain calm, biting back the urge to make everyone feel guilty with questions like "what if we started buying clothes or told our families the first guess?"

She thought they were at least owed an apology but a question from the doctor interrupted her currently racing train of thought. "I'm almost positive your baby is a girl, Ms. Forrester-Berlanti. But if you'd still like to do the blood test..."

"No," she said, automatically reaching down as if to protect her stomach even though she knew they'd be testing her blood and staying well away from the baby. "I think I've had enough of being poked and prodded today."

"Understandable," the doctor said gently. "If you change your mind, there are home tests you can order online."

Though not squeamish, Maris, like most people, was not keen on getting blood drawn. She wasn't sure she could get a sample from herself (or have Rory do it) but she supposed she might be open to the idea on a less stressful day or if curiosity got the better of her. But as she looked over at her wife, she realized she hadn't asked her opinion on the matter and felt a tiny wave of guilt in the pit of her stomach. "Unless you wanna be sure, Ror."

It was almost alarming how quickly the image of their child had begun to shift in Rory's mind. Of course she had no idea what their baby would actually look like, but she knew in her very bones what she hoped for. A little personality like Maris; bold and headstrong, unwilling to take any crap especially from any shitty little boys or girls she might come across. A curious mind and voracious appetite for learning. A laugh like her mom's, maybe those dark chocolate eyes that Rory had fallen in love with would be echoed in a different little love of her life. She wondered if she'd have her freckles, if she'd like to wear dark colors or if she'd take after Rory and want a bit more bright colors in her wardrobe. It was insane to have all of these thoughts hit her one right after the other, but Rory couldn't help it.

They were having a girl. A fact that was made all the more real when the doctor mercifully came in to take a look. Rory bit her tongue so she didn't snap why that hadn't happened in the first place, choosing to be more zen and grateful to have the doctor there now.

Even still, Rory rolled her eyes slightly (though she wasn't sure anyone caught it) at the incredulous comment the doctor made about Liz. That was comforting.

Rory agreed with Maris, and shook her head to confirm. "Definitely no, if you're good, I'm good." She said softly, her attention entirely on her wife as she gave a squeeze of her hand. She didn't want Maris to be poked or prodded anymore, or their baby. "I suppose we can take the doctor's word for it." She said as though the doctor wasn't in the room, a wry smile directed at her wife before she turned her attention back to the doctor and technician. "But she--" She stumbled on the pronoun, but smiled. "She's healthy and looking good?"

"Everything's right on target," the doctor said soothingly. "She seems a little longer than most, but growth is always a good thing. She's moving around right on schedule..." He looked up and over at Maris. "And you've felt the quickening?"

It took her a moment to sort out what he meant and once she did she nearly wrinkled her nose. The quickening sounded like an awfully archaic term.

"Yeah, I've felt her moving. Faintly. It's like a little ripple?"

"That's normal. If she's going to be a big baby, which seems like a possibility thus far, you're going to be feeling her plenty as she bulks up."

"I don't mind," Maris said automatically. She'd been longing to feel the baby months before it happened, after all, although the prospect of birthing a huge daughter was making her stomach tighten a little.

"You'll definitely feel some pressure on your bladder..."

"Uh huh, sure I can handle it," she said through slightly clenched teeth. Nevermind the fact that she sometimes felt like she was cutting it close rushing to the bathroom between classes now. Like all things as far as Jane was concerned, Maris figured she'd cross that bridge when she came to it.

The appointment wrapped up and Maris was nothing if not relieved it was over and eager to talk to Rory about everything that had happened with her privately.

She took her wife's hand but didn't immediately head to the train station the way she normally did after an appointment. She turned left with a clear destination in mind. "Come on, I've been wanting to buy something since I first saw it and now we can."

Rory visibly relaxed when the doctor confirmed that their baby, their girl was on track. Not that she constantly worried about that, but being in the doctor's office where they were actually looking for how things were going always made her a little tense until she had that answer.

Her own brow furrowed a little at the terminology the doctor used, but she let it go, more focused on the promise of them feeling their daughter more and more as she grew. Of course Rory knew that, but someone saying it out loud still made her stomach flip excitedly.

Once they were off on their way, Rory squeezed Maris' hand, threading her fingers through her wife's as soon as they had contact. "Oh?" She grinned, one brow arched curiously as she followed Maris. "I don't know about you, but I'm feeling very smug that we went with a gender neutral theme for the nursery."

"They're lucky we went with a gender neutral nursery!" Maris hissed. "I nearly guilt tripped them, Ror. That was a pretty big thing to mess up," she said, repeating her point from before. "What if Faye had started knitting us a blue blanket or something?"

Jane having a blue blanket was hardly the end of the world, especially when one of her mothers didn't even like pink, but again, it was the principle of thing.

It was going to take a while for the fact that they were having a girl to sink in, but Maris had a feeling she'd come around quicker (and with much less anxiety) than she had about having a son. And what they were about to do next would probably help them with that.

While not stingy, Maris had always been careful with money. She was doing her best not to dive head first into baby shopping and she and Rory had more than a few conversations about how new parents bought more crap than they actually needed and they that were going to think long and hard about everything they purchased. They'd avoided a particularly pricey baby boutique near the tube station once they'd wandered inside and gotten a look at the prices, but Maris had spotted something on the way out that she sort of wished she'd gone back for ever since.

She just hoped it was still there.

She rushed inside like a woman on a mission, ignoring the shopgirl's chipper greeting. She flicked a few onesies with elephants and floral patterns away from her then snatched a white one off the rack, holding it up triumphantly.

"She needs this."

Rory chuckled softly, honestly imagining that if they had made any more permanent gender-choices of decor, the entire office would have gotten an earful. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you did! It was a massive fuckup." Rory huffed a little, but her ire was gone a moment later at the idea of Faye knitting their baby a blanket. Blue or otherwise.

Having a girl was so different than what they had been planning for, but Rory almost felt bad for even the bit of relief she felt as well. A girl they could handle. Of course, she hadn't yet really let herself think about the teenage years with a girl and the amount of sass they were undoubtedly going to encounter. For now, all she could think about was a little girl who was just like her mother. She hoped she took after Maris in every way.

The shop Maris pulled her to was one that Rory still had a few pictures of items from, mostly so they could hunt for those things (or similar) for much, much cheaper. But she sensed her wife was on a mission, and she followed eagerly, now suddenly more attuned to all the girly things in the shop. Even though Rory did love a good pink, she didn't want all the frilly things. A few carefully selected, yes, but their daughter would be very well rounded in her tastes, thank you very much.

She'd been slightly distracted by a little purple bear but followed Maris over to the onesies. She peered over her shoulder, an immediate grin spreading across her face at the onesie her wife produced. "Oh my god!" She exclaimed a little loudly, taking it from Maris and looking over it. Jane. The classic name they'd fallen in love with had so many she could really say she was named after. Austen, Eyre, Bennet to circle back to Austen, Seymour, FONDA. She'd be joining quite the lineage of real and fictional Janes. "It figures our kids would be named after our literary favorites, huh?" She beamed at her wife, pulling her in suddenly and pressing a deep kiss to her lips, not a care in the world that they were in a cramped little baby store.

There were a million great Janes to choose from, but Rory's favorite (even if she wasn't hers was always the first to swing to mind. Practical as ever, a little voice whispered that the store was still charging an arm and a leg for what was essentially an undershirt and that even she didn't like wearing white for fear of stains. She could only imagine what Jane's onesie would look like by the time she was done with it, but... she needed it. It had her name and her namesake and she knew it would make her wife happy in more ways than one.

Maris may have known Rory would like the onesie but the kiss still caught her off guard, earning her wife a very uncharacteristic giggle as she pulled her in closer. "If I had known posh baby clothes would get this reaction out of you we would have come back sooner," she teased as she pulled away. Sliding an arm around Rory's waist, she sighed dramatically, "Well, I guess it couldn't hurt to look around..."

Perhaps it just all hit her at once, that even though their having a girl was new and would take some time getting used to, it was happening. The little onesie with Jane (and the right one at that) on the front of it made it feel real, too. But the main point of it was that Maris had found this, and remembered it. The two of them coming into this (vastly overpriced) store and buying something for their daughter felt like it was a big step. Every little piece of their journey seemed to feel better than the last. Sorry to Keats, but he would have his turn, probably.

"Oh it takes very little to get this reaction out of me when it comes to you, but. Yes." She giggled back, kissing her wife's cheek before they started to move around the store. "This is a cute night light." She said, pointing towards a realistic moon light on display. "Actually having a moon that lights up on the mural could be a fun idea..." She mused, smiling to herself as she felt a little smug all over again that they'd chosen a mural that really was gender neutral. Like they knew, somehow.

"Does it shine onto the celing?" Maris asked, looking above the one on display. "That's cool. Everyone had a nightlight at my dad's house. Even him and Pop. The lighting was really old and wonky when I was a kid. It was super dark no matter what kind of lightbulb we used so it was pitch black at night if you had to get up to get water or go to the bathroom."

Maris wasn't sure she'd ever shared that memory. Her father had gotten an electrician in to rewire the place once Maris got older so Rory had never seen it as it was.

"I used to sleep in a literal closet, you know. It was very Harry Potter," she teased.

Maris was exaggerating a bit. Obviously not expecting Christina's pregnancy and a bit hard pressed for space, her parents had cleared out a walk in closet and put her crib in there for a time, but she'd moved into a(n admittedly small) spare room by the time she was a toddler.

I never got a fancy Peter Pan mural," she said dramatically, though she was hardly torn up about the whole thing. Maris had been allowed to repaint her room when she was 12, even if John vetoed her first color choice which was, predictably, black.

"I think so? Oh look! It has a setting where it will go through the different moon phases. That's really cool." Not that their baby would care if it was a crescent moon or a waxing one, but she liked that there would be a bit of the celestial that Jane could learn about eventually. It was kind of precious in a way.

"Wait really?" Rory laughed a little bit, imagining what might have brought on that particular need to have nightlights for everyone. She imagined a lot of feeling around for walls and stubbed toes, hopefully getting them before someone actually caused real bodily harm. "I need to know if you had a character one or something." Rory grinned at her wife, bumping her shoulder gently.

"Harriet Potter, that's you." She giggled, now having a very different image of the closet her wife slept in as an infant in mind. It was kind of precious. "Our kids are so bougie. Murals and a whole library section just for them and two moms." She widened her eyes at the last one, but immediately something else caught her eye. "Oh no. This... okay this might be a little on the nose but..." She stepped away and picked up an insanely soft crocodile stuffed animal and held it up. "On theme and really really cute."

Maris shook her head. "Nah, Dad's like me. No cartoon characters cluttering up his house. We all just had plain boring ones."

Now that she thought about it. A lot of the rules and ideas she had set out for herself and their baby were an awful lot like her father's. She suspected that even if her childhood home had more space (and the Forresters had a bit more money), John wouldn't have liked to have seen it cluttered with a bunch of toys and junk. Maris had always gotten what she asked for: Her cello had been a fairly big and pricey purchase. But she'd never been spoiled.

"Oh, look at his face!" she cooed. Maris had never been a huge stuffed animal enthusiast, even as a kid. She really only hung onto a brown rabbit she'd been told she'd been given as a baby (though she was fuzzy on who gave it to her), but the crocodile was cute and Rory was right.

It was very on theme.

"He looks too nice to have an insatiable craving for pirate hands," she teased, taking look around at the other toys on display.

"Oh look at these!" Maris said excitedly, pointing to some mermaid rag dolls on display that were also very on theme. "I like the middle one because it's a more traditional tail color but they're all cute."

Maris had also never really been into dolls, preferring books over more imaginative play that required making up her own stories but they would be nice decor even if Jane never took them off the shelf.

Rory had to smile at that. She so loved Maris (and by extent her father) for their practical approach to niche things. When she was younger, she had been more prone to having more character or themed toys and decor at home. As she got older, she'd shirked those sort of things, going for more practical herself... even if still a bit more colorful than the Forresters most of the time.

When her father had left and it was just the Berlanti women left to themselves, they didn't have a lot. Isabella helped out as much as Evelyn allowed her to, but Rory's mother was a proud woman and wanted to do things on her own. So she made sure her girls learned the importance of earning an allowance, and saving up for the things they wanted. As a result, their toy collections were not vast, but they were very well cultivated of things they actually loved and used. More often than not, Rory would save up her money for books, or art supplies, the occasional stuffed toy.

"He's cute, right??" She beamed at her wife's reaction. If they spoiled Jane a little bit... it was their right as her mothers, wasn't it? "He does, but who knows what an insatiable hunger looks like on even the cutest little dude." She laughed, tucking the toy in the crook of her arm to purchase.

The mermaids were perfect. Of course they were. Rory excitedly gasped as she reached for one of them, turning it over in her hands. "Well there were more than one mermaid in the lagoon..." She smirked, and gathered the other two. She liked that they didn't look entirely manufactured and instead had a more unique and handmade quality to them. "We should get all three, they aren't too expensive. And if she doesn't play with them until she's older, they are a good starter of really cute stuffed toys."

Maybe it was a bit pretentious, but she didn't want their daughter to have the same generic, mass produced crap as everyone else. The dolls looked unique, homemade even. She had her doubts they'd find anything like them at even a higher end department store. And they were soft, which meant that if Jane did want to play with them, she probably could right away.

"Well, alright," she muttered. "I did want to put shelves by her crib and we don't want them to be empty now do we?"

Not that they had shelves. Or a crib. Or anything but the spare room cleared out and painted a bland white so whenever they did find someone to do their mural, they'd have a nice, blank canvas ready to go.

"I bet we could find her mermaid sheets if we really wanted to," she said as they wandered back toward the clothing racks. "I feel like unicorns and mermaids really exploded over the past few years."

Going all out on mermaids might make the room less gender neutral than they originally planned but now that they knew they were having a daughter Maris did find herself earnestly looking at things that were a little more feminine, but she figured as long as they didn't cover Jane's room in pink sparkly crap, she was still sticking to her principles.

As she walked toward a very large white crib with a very gauzy white canopy over top, she smirked. "Not to late to just say fuck it all and go Austen themed, you know," she teased, nodding toward it. Nevertheless, she reached out to run her hand along the wood. "I do like the canopy though. So chic."

Some things probably couldn't be avoided, favorite nostalgic things for sure would come to their kids eventually, but Rory had the same mindset when it came to the toys they'd buy for their kids. She wanted them to have things that were unique and maybe a little precious. When they'd get older, surely the toys their friends had or ones they'd see on a commercial would be unavoidable, but those formative building blocks... those should be special.

"Ooh, that's a good idea. I'll even build them." She wiggled her eyebrows, a wry grin playing across her lips. Not that she didn't think Maris could build on her own of course, but Rory actually liked to build things -- and liked the way her wife looked at her when she tore into an IKEA box.

Rory beamed at the idea of the little sheets they could find, nodding as she glanced around if there was any crib bedding around. "Don't you dare tease me. I guess we'll probably need a lot of sheets if we don't want to be doing laundry every single day. Maybe something with stars, too? Or... how hard would pirates be to find?" She laughed, but would now make it her mission to find all of these.

She couldn't help but want some girly things now, too. While she wouldn't push for the frilly pink, but maybe some things. "Oh that's very true. We could plaster the walls with book quotes and tea sets." She laughed, but Maris was right - the canopy crib really was beautiful. "We could... make this work anyway, don't you think?"

"You're gonna build us shelves?" Maris smirked, clearly amused. But she'd also seen her wife put together more than a few Ikea bookshelves. She knew she could do it and she was proud of her for it and something about Rory building things for their daughter, made her even more so. She slid her arm around her just a little more tightly. "I bet we could find pirates. I feel like boys get a lot of options. Sports, dinosaurs, space, firetrucks, pirates and girls just get flowers and princesses."

Not that Maris thought those things should be assigned or appeal to one or the other, but she knew Rory knew what she meant.

The crib was nice and clearly made of sturdier stuff than they'd find at Target or Ikea. She and Rory knew how to take care of things. It would probably still be in good shape and work for Keats or whoever else came along if and when the time was right but...

"It's big," she said after a beat.

Jane wasn't going to be stuck in a closet like she was. She had her own, decently sized room. The crib would fit but Maris didn't want some huge piece of furniture they'd have squeeze past every time they walked in.

"I just see myself banging my toe on it every time I go in to feed her in the middle of the night."

Would they use a bassinet for that? They'd probably keep Jane by the bed and thus in the room for feedings too. And to check on her.

Possibly? There were so many things Maris didn't know about or simply wasn't sure of just yet.

And there was no way of telling just how this was gonna go.

"I don't like clutter. You know that. Huge furniture is clutter. This is like the baby equivalent of an SUV. A gorgeous SUV, but I want a compact, Ror."

"You bet I am. I mean, probably pre-boxed shelves but shelves nonetheless." Probably better than ikea though. She had some standards now that she wasn't a college student. Rory smiled softly as Maris pulled her in tighter, her own arms sliding around her wife's body as she leaned into her embrace. "You're right, and I want a good mix of both. Well, she doesn't really need princesses unless she really begs for them later on." Certainly not the usual trope of princesses anyway. She wanted their daughter to be her own damn hero. No damsels allowed.

Maris was right, the crib was big. It would probably take up much more room in the nursery than it should. "Okay that's a good point." She laughed at Maris' comparison, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her temple. "But it's a good look, right? If we find a crib like this one but smaller, I bet we could find another canopy type to install? Maybe with a little mobile in the middle?"

Rory wasn't sure if mobiles actually did anything for babies and their sleep or their entertainment, but she always liked the idea of them. More the handmade types, not the ones that were mass produced and made of plastic. In fact, she'd prefer if most of the toys and things they got for Jane to have as little plastic as possible.

"Actually. Remind me to show you this little mobile maker I found on instagram. She hand makes all of these beautiful little mobiles and will do custom designs, too."

"I don't like that princess crap. It's not an attainable goal. Little boys get things like firemen and astronauts on their stuff. Girls get ridiculous things like mermaids and princesses and unicorns. Besides, I feel like every girl who goes on and on about how she's a princess is a spoiled brat. It's all oh I'm not gonna clean my room, I'm a princess. I need this ridiculous toy or this insanely impractical expensive dress because I'm a princess. I refuse to raise a brat, Rory."

Maris took her hand off the crib, nodding. "I think a canopy is a must."

She listened about the mobile, tilting her head to one side. "I don't think I had a mobile as a baby. I'm not even sure my room had a theme, but I like the idea. Colors and motion and all that. Could she make us something on theme? I wouldn't mind paying extra for something unique that really matches."

At the mention of money, Maris glanced around the store, realizing it was probably best to leave before she drained her entire checking account. Sliding a hand down to the small of Rory's back and subtly steering her toward the register she continued.

"I just want everything as cohesive as possible. If Jane's gonna be in one room a lot I want it to be the nicest room in the whole house."

"I don't either. I'd much rather our daughter want to be an astronaut or a doctor or a teacher. Or literally anything that isn't fictional..." Rory paused, realizing where they were. "Or entirely superfluous and elitist when a country is suffering with no real need for any type of monarchy." Rory smirked through her minimal soapbox moment. Though, of late, she was rather grateful they were living across the pond and had at least less issues to deal with than back in the states. "We could never raise a brat." She shuddered a little at the thought, though she knew it would be hard the moment they met their daughter not to coo and fall over themselves to give her everything she could ever want. They'd have time to settle into the whole parenting thing. "My one exception might be A Little Princess. I loved that book. And that movie." Did it still hold up? She needed to rewatch to make sure.

"I think she could. From what I've seen, she posts pictures of commissioned ones she's done. I'll find her instagram when we get home." Rory was suddenly very excited about the prospect, like all these things made Jane more and more real as they prepared for her.

Maris knew her wife well, and Rory had to smile to herself as she was steered off towards the front of the store. Wise woman, she thought. Rory would gather a hundred more things they didn't even need out of sheer excitement.

Rory paused just enough to lean over and kiss her wife's cheek, lingering a little longer than a peck as she squeezed her. It was a sudden and overwhelming affection that took hold of her, which was not a new thing, but certainly came at a moment's notice as always. "I think you're right. And we're going to want to be in there with her all the time, too."

"Oh god, I hated that movie," Maris said automatically. She didn't mean to stomp all over something her wife liked. She even liked The Secret Garden, so it wasn't like Maris had some kind of personal vendetta against the author. It was the content above all else.

John had always been good about building Maris' self esteem in a way that was uplifting, yet practical. She'd always been grounded in reality, praised for being smart or good at chess and her cello. She'd rarely been praised for her looks although she knew her father thought she was beautiful. She'd never been his sweetheart or princess, but as a little girl whose father was her best friend and whole world as well as all she had... well, the story had been soul crushing.

Sure, Sarah found her father in the end and wasn't really an orphan but...the time in between had touched on a very deep seeded fear that Maris hadn't exactly been able to put into words or even understand the first time she saw it.

She bit her lip a little. "And what if it makes her ask about... you know, her dad? she muttered.

Maris didn't want to talk about this. She knew it was an awkward subject for both of them and today had been a stressful, yet happy day. She definitely didn't want to talk about it in the middle of a bougie kid's store, but she couldn't help it.

"Sorry, I... dunno, it's just a heavy story that I'd completely forgot about until right now."

"You did?!" Rory looked a little crestfallen at the revelation, but she supposed that she and her wife couldn't match tastes on everything. Of course, she was right that it was a heavier story, and not one that their child should delve into when she was really little.

Maris' comment did make Rory reflect a bit on how much she'd loved the movie. She was probably eight or nine when she'd seen it, old enough to get the context and the message of the movie, but not so much that it felt saccharine or stupid. Had it brought up questions of her father? She supposed it had, though it was right at that time when her father had abandoned them. She supposed in some way, it must have given Rory a sense of longing that not every father willingly left his daughters.

"I didn't think of that. I guess, I didn't really ask a lot of questions about my dad when I saw it? But that was different." She said a little quietly, not wanting to give a lot of her energy or thought to her father. She barely even ever spoke his name, Richard and had lost his surname by the time she was ten.

"It is a heavier story, you're right." She shook her shoulders a little as if that'd brush off the unpleasant feelings the conversation had conjured up. "Maybe when she's older."

They talked about Rory's dad about as much as they did Maris' mom, which was why it took her a moment to realize she may have hit a nerve that went beyond simply trashing something her wife liked. Maris' stomach sank with the feeling that came with knowing she'd said exactly the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry," she murmured again, softer this time as she slid an arm around her Rory's waist in an almost half hug. Apologies were a rare thing for Maris. Even when extended to the person who meant most to her.

She pressed a soft kiss to her temple for good measure. "Come on, let's drain our checking account for all this stuff then go home and see if I have any Oreos left."

There was so much of their past (particularly parenting wise) that seemed to live in the same space. Rory never liked to give her father any bit of her energy, so it would often catch her off guard when she was reminded of him. It didn't put her in the best mood, but Rory was nothing if not able to bounce back and a master at compartmentalizing. It was a healthy thing, usually.

"It's okay honey." She said gently, leaning into her wife's embrace and letting go of any residual edge that had crept into her emotions. She knew an apology from her wife was genuine, and she hadn't come from a place of malice to begin with. This was a great day, and Maris was right: they had shopping to do.

She returned the kiss with one on Maris' cheek, rubbing her back gently as she nodded. "Jane really is going to be spoiled by the time she arrives already, isn't she?" She smirked, looking down at the selection they'd already picked out. "We can never tell her about Oreos. Those are her moms' special treats."