Maris wasn't sure how to feel when her genealogy search didn't turn up anything other than a handful of very distant cousins living in Greece, but ultimately decided that no news was probably good news as far as her mom's side of the family was concerned.

She had her own family to worry about.

Maris and Rory had big plans for the nursery. A Peter Pan (or at least pirate and/or mermaid) themed mural had been talked about but since they had no idea what they wanted and no clue to where to find an artist to do such a thing, they had turned their attention to the library.

They were going to hold off on installing the sort of grand, floor to celling bookshelves with ladders of their dreams, wanting to save money for the baby. Besides, Maris wasn't entirely sure how long something like that would take and didn't want any major construction happening while she was pregnant.

She'd always hated having strangers in her house, even when something needed to be fixed.

But they could paint and rearrange the shelves they did have to their best advantage so they could finally have a library. Their first draft, anyway.

Maris still wasn't showing, but the waistband of the old workout shorts she was wearing to paint was digging into her a bit. She and Rory took a break once they'd finished the celling, using the old sheet they'd thrown down to catch any drips as a picnic blanket. Their lunch wasn't anything fancy, just sandwiches she'd thrown together in the kitchen paired with the Fritos Maris still couldn't seem to stop eating even though she knew she should probably watch her salt intake.

"We have more room than shelves," she said, nodding toward a very blank space on a back wall that could fit at least two large bookcases. "Never had that problem before," she said, crunching into a chip. "I guess we can put chairs there too. Make a little reading nook, but I kind of wanted that to be by the window."

The view wasn't great today. In typical London fashion, it was raining, but Maris didn't mind. It was soothing. Cozy, even. Familiar because rain was definitely their thing. "Nah, definitely bookshelves," she said after a bit more contemplation. "The baby is going to need some for their books too."

Though she'd done her own genealogy search in solidarity with her wife, Rory had sort of expected it might turn up some cool story about some ancestor she had nothing to do with, but would at least be interesting. It was just sort of bland, the family tree she knew and names that meant nothing to her. It had been easier to focus on Maris and her results, but was glad that doing the damn thing seemed to ease at least some of the unknown. At least nothing bad - and nothing bad, was certainly good.

But now that they were home, the nesting phase seemed to hit both of them at once. They had a ways to go yet for the nursery, but the library was certainly more doable for the both of them.

"Sometimes I really wish we could find a way to put in a secret book shelf in here." She mused, tapping her fingers on her chin as she looked around the room. "One that hides our favorite books or even a mini bar." She laughed, wagging her eyebrows as though they could just manifest a hidden room out of nowhere.

The night before, Rory had ... maybe grabbed her phone in a moment of panic, worried that paint fumes would be bad for her wife and their baby... but her fears were put aside when the internet (however reliable it was ... from various sites) assured her that there was no harm done. She'd slept soundly after that, her momentary momma bear/protective wife moment assuaged.

"I didn't think it was possible to have more space than books, even." She laughed, looking over at the blank wall they had. "I agree, I think having a cushy bench type nook by the window is best. Lighting wise and... cozy factor." She smirked a little as she munched on a chip. She loved days like this one, the rain pelting down that made it feel like the day was specifically for them. So many people complained about the rain in London, but not them.

That now familiar thrill raced up her spine when Maris mentioned their baby, and the books they would need. "I like having a little library shelf growing for them." She nudged her wife's shoulder gently with her own, before bowing her head to kiss it. "We need a rug in here."

"A bar?" Maris repeated. "So we'll be wine moms but classier?" she teased before offering her wife a shrug. "I'm game if you are. Of course I'd drink a shot of Jack Daniels someone spilled on the floor at this point."

Since Maris had grown up with and thus adopted the habits of a frugal father who only permitted turning on lights after sundown, the library was dim, slightly gloomy since there wasn't much sunlight streaming in.

She kind of loved it.

"A neutral rug," she said pointedly and not just because she wasn't one for bright colors. "We need something that isn't distracting when we're trying to read."

Maris finished one half of her sandwich and left her other for the time being, playfully nudging Rory's bare foot with her own before nuzzling her neck.

"I was thinking with the walls being this sort of pale green color, the green couch could maybe come in here and be a reading couch. It does kind of suit the old school library vibe. Of course that means we'd need something new for the living room, but maybe that's a good thing. We could get something kid friendly. Maybe even something kinda cheap that way we won't feel too bad if Keats wrecks it during the toddler years. Definitely not white."

"Exactly. And a hidden bar. We pull on Gatsby if we really want to lean into the boozy element and then voila, a hidden room for our bar." Rory actually loved the idea, though Gatsby had never been among her top five...ten... fifty books.

She empathized with Maris, even though she knew that she could drink, she hadn't had any in solidarity with her wife. "I could always have a drink and you can just kiss it off my lips." She offered with a laugh, but was in all honesty holding firm to her vow to remain dry with Maris.

"Definitely neutral. Maybe a nice cream colored... or a gray." This room was quickly becoming one of her favorites, and knew she'd get emotional if she thought too hard about what it would feel like to sit on the floor like this with their baby between them, reading him books and trying to get his attention with bright colors and funny voices.

She couldn't wait for it.

"Oh babe I love that." Rory said as she slid her arm around Maris, shifting to sit just a little closer. "I was wondering if we should get one of those couches with one of those big chaise's on one end of it? We so often always end up laying with each other anyway, it wouldn't hurt to have an actual cozy spot for it... and maybe a little extra room when Keats comes." Especially as their favorite shows kicked back in, it couldn't hurt to have a good spot for settling in. "A gray couch would actually look good in that room? Or a dark tan... mm. Maybe. Not sold on that."

"Ooh grey sounds nice. Grey is almost black," she teased, although she did look pretty excited at the idea of getting to stick to her usual color palette.

A bigger sofa would probably come in handy before they had a tiny human sharing one with them. As much as Maris loved her green couch, for aesthetic and sentimentality's sake, it was narrow and thus a tight fit for two tall women.

There were other things they'd have to be mindful of that went beyond the usual baby proofing. Maris had a few antiques, either found on her own or gifted to her by her grandfather over the years. Not to mention a very expensive, glass topped coffee table that she tried to keep company from wrecking. She had no idea how protective of it she would be around a baby who could break or even hurt themselves on it.

Maris liked everything, even her space, just so. She couldn't stand clutter and she'd be the first to admit she sometimes judged her friends on their home decor (Eli's tastes could still lean a bit frat boy and she teased him mercilessly for it). She didn't want their place to look like a kindergarten with toys and primary colors everywhere.

Maybe it was a bit unrealistic, but she sort of hoped you wouldn't really be able to tell there was a baby in the home until you went to the nursery. She wanted their child to add to their lives, not completely overtake them even though she knew they probably would in ways she couldn't even imagine.

She sighed a little, leaning in to gently kiss the curve of her wife's neck, very much wanting to distract herself by focusing on the present.

"So it's settled then. We plan this whole library around the green couch. It deserves it."

"I know your whole aesthetic, missus." Rory laughed, stealing another kiss as she nuzzled the curve of Maris' neck.

Selfishly, Rory also liked the idea of breaking in a new couch. And a new rug for that matter. She felt like the way she desired her wife had somehow grown, which felt impossible considering how much she wanted her wife all the time before she was pregnant, too. Her love for her just grew bigger. It really was of a beautiful thing.

They were really in for a lot of changes in the coming months. She knew the normal things like covering outlets, securing drawers and shelves, putting soft padding on sharp corners. The books she'd bought on preparing for a child (because of course she'd bought plenty) were highlighted and full of post-it notes sticking out.

Goosebumps peppered along her skin as Maris kissed her neck, an overly sensitive spot of hers.

"I think that's pretty perfect, actually. And you know I love a splash of color." She winked, pushing her plate aside as she shifted her body a bit to drape herself closer to her wife, letting her head rest in her lap as she laid out, stretching her legs. "Do you think it's silly if I want to start reading to the baby, so he hears my voice, too?" It brought back memories of their conversation before about a baby's ears, but it felt like she wanted to bring him into their lives, and she wanted their child to know her presence too, her voice. "Cause you definitely don't want me singing lullabies."

"I don't think it's silly at all," Maris said softly. She felt a strange tightening in her throat whenever she thought too much about reading or talking to the baby, but the idea of Rory doing it struck an even more intense chord. Maris hadn't spoken to the baby much since they'd learned they probably couldn't hear anything yet, though she had scolded it on more than one occasion when her morning sickness was playing up.

"I think this baby's going to be out of luck if it wants lullabies," Maris joked. But Maris had a fairly pleasant, if underused voice and she didn't think her wife's was all that bad either.

"What do you want to read them?" she asked, knowing they had plenty of options around, even if their shelves were in disarray at the moment. They'd moved most into the center of the room so they could paint, some books even falling off the shelf and onto the floor in the process.

Maris was protective of her books and liked to keep them pristine as possible, but even she didn't see the point of straightening the room up until they finished painting and moving things around.

"Maybe I should have thought about taking some voice lessons before we decided to start a family." Rory laughed softly, but made a face at the idea of it. Their voices were nice enough, at least for humming or gentle singing to their babies who didn't know any better. God, she wondered what kind of music they would actually like when they were old enough to have opinions on the matter.

She prayed whatever Disney song was their kid's generational "let it go" was at least going to be catchy if they had to listen to it ad nauseam.

"Tolstoy." She deadpanned, but not even a full moment later her face burst with a grin and she laughed at her own joke. "No, I'd put the entire family to sleep with him." She made a face, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before her gaze naturally went back to her wife. She raised one hand, letting her fingertips trace along the underside of her jaw and then her cheek. "Some Austen and Keats, obviously. Bronte. Maybe even start with Frankenstein?" Hilarious as it was, it felt right to start with some of the classics. "I doubt they'll have much of an attention span for any of these once they're here."

"Why wait?" Maris said, suddenly getting up to head on over to the bookshelf nearest to her. She had a specific book in mind and didn't think she'd have much trouble finding a copy.

Despite plans to essentially name their daughter after her, Maris wasn't a huge fan of Jane Austen. She preferred the gloomy atmosphere of Northanger Abbey above all else, even if it had been written to mock the Brontes.

Jane really was more of a mean girl than anyone called her out for.

P & P was probably her least favorite Austen novel, but she'd taken to buying Rory copies of it whenever she found a new edition with particularly nice cover art.

She knew Rory kept them all together so she grabbed her favorite one. It was also their newest. The volume of P & P that had been included in the floral boxset she'd gotten Rory for Christmas.

She stayed on the drop cloth, but leaned with her back to the wall so she could be a bit more comfortable while reading.

She flipped to the first page, clearing her throat a little before starting to read in the calm, authoritive tone they'd dubbed her teacher voice.

Rory had one too.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.

Maris' lips twitched. She knew Jane was being glib, but the urge to be a contrarian rose. Even if she'd changed her tune about marriage and was very happily someone's wife.

"Wrong," she said, addressing her stomach. "Some people never want marriage. And some men want husbands."

She smirked at Rory. "And some women have wives, but I think you'll learn that a lot quicker than most kids your age."

Rory was already beaming as Maris stood up to hurry over to the bookshelf. She sat up, resting her elbows on her knees as she just gazed at her wife, a familiar swell of warmth blooming in her chest.

Where Maris wasn't a fan of Austen, she loved her wife for indulging her adoration of the author. She was the first one that Rory remembered devouring, reading everything she'd ever written and then immersing herself in the films of those books, too. Her tastes had evolved, but there was something about the first one that you fell in love with that stuck. She also loved that Jane was a bit of a snobby brat and lived her own life.

Rory sat up with Maris, leaning against the wall next to her and scooting in closer so her thigh was pressed up against Maris'. She let her head rest against her shoulder, and her hand on her knee, snuggled in as if she couldn't get close enough.

Her lips twitched with a smirk at Maris' voice, but she didn't say anything about it. She knew it well.

"If anything, think last about what a heterosexual white man wants, baby. Even if that's you." Rory nodded, but laughed a little bit at how ridiculous she sounded. But it was true, between the two of them, they certainly wouldn't allow Keats to be an asshole, especially in that way.

"You can drop the descriptors, darling," Maris corrected gently. "Because it really is all men." She had plenty of misogynistic men of all races and sexualities. White, straight men might have been the worst offenders, but they weren't the only ones. "Even you if you happen to be Keats, but we'll try our best."

She was still a bit wary at the possibility of having a boy. She had been raised by men. Great ones. Her best and oldest friend was a guy but... they were about the only men who played any part in her life. Maris didn't feel very compatible with them in ways that went beyond who she could share her bed with.

But she supposed things would be different if she had a son. He would be a piece of herself, after all. She would be more than willing to learn.

"But whoever's in there, you better behave yourself. I refuse to raise an asshole of either sex. And please don't be a Kitty or Lydia."

Rory snorted a little laugh, nodding as she leaned into Maris' shoulder. "You're right, they're all bad." Okay she of course adored Maris' father, and Eli, and the handful of male friends they had, but she figured the good ones out there didn't take offense to the "all" descriptor. "We'll still love you, mostly." Rory teased, but knew the moment they saw their child, whomever they were, that love would be instinctual. Even with Maris' worries over how she might feel, Rory didn't doubt her.

Similarly, Rory wasn't entirely sure what she would do with a boy. She knew she'd love him, she already did, but her history with men was even less nice than Maris'. Her only father figure had left when she was young. She had never even sought out father figures in teachers or the very rare boyfriend her mother had had after her father. These things weren't important to her. The only real person she'd had was her grandfather, but he'd died when she was a teenager.

Of course Rory would love their kids equally, no matter their genders, but it was the question of what to do with a son, how to guide him. They'd figure it out, of course they would.

"Oh god forbid, please no." She laughed, and then did something she hadn't really done before. Rory reached over and put her hand on Maris' stomach as she thought about their child. She almost snapped her hand back, like it was something she should have asked, but this was Maris, and they touched each other legitimately all the time. "Whoever is in there." She repeated, but looked at her wife as she said it. "Just please love books like your moms."

"Oh god, watch us get a gamer," Maris said, sounding disgusted at the notion. She had never been into video games. Unlike most kids of her generation, she'd never had a home console or even a Gameboy growing up. Neither Maris or her father saw the need for one. She knew games had evolved and sure, they took a certain kind of skill but something about the way kids constantly relied on something electronic to entertain themselves these days made Maris' blood run cold. She refused to be the type of mom who shoved a phone or ipad in her kids hand even if she needed a moment's peace. People just used them to distract shut their kids up. And as far as she was concerned, it made them dumber.

She was a little worried that their baby would be very different from them. She and Rory were certainly their own people with differences in opinion and personality but Maris knew they were more alike than not. If their child wasn't, she had a feeling they'd be in for a rude awakening.

She read a bit more, then yawned, murmuring, "Whoever they are they won't have a million sisters. Two is our limit, baby."

"Oh god." Rory wrinkled her nose, shaking her head at the very idea of it, but, a moment later tilted her head in consideration. "I mean, if our kid could actually challenge my skills in Mario Kart..." She trailed off with a grin and a nudge to her wife. Rory had never been much into video games (board games and trivia, yes.) but as a kid she'd evolved with Mario and games she could play with her sister. Yes, once upon a time she'd rocked out to guitar hero. But her one game she'd thrived at was Mario Kart. She didn't really let that super-competitive player she'd once been come out often, though Maris caught glimpses of her certainly on trivia nights.

For their kid though, Rory didn't want them to be a little zombie staring at the screens. Of course, ask her that when the tantrums started and her ears rang with shrieks of defiance, but she wanted to monitor it, at best. Of course their kids would love TV because they certainly did, but it made more sense to give them other alternatives as much as they could.

God forbid they raise any dummys.

"God no. I can't imagine having that many kids, even if they are all girls." She smiled, bowing her head to press a lingering kiss to Maris' shoulder. "Don't forget we reserve the right for a max of three, if we want to have Lyra after all." Did other people pick out their kids names so early? It felt like so much less fun, just thinking of some weird name like peanut or bean to call their growing baby. Rory felt like she already knew their kids a little, Keats and Jane. They were real to her, and one of them was realer by the day.

"What if he idolizes Hemingway?" Rory sat up straight like a jolt went through her spine. "I'm not for hiding books but ... they need to know what a colossal douchebag old Ernest was."

Maris smiled, glad and most of all, touched that Rory remembered that she loved the name Lyra too. The thought then occurred to her that they might get a chance to use it either way. It was entirely possible that she was carrying Jane instead of Keats and that they might end up with another girl when it was Rory's turn.

Then she realized they could just as easily end up with two boys. Something she really hadn't considered.

"We don't have a back up boys name!" She paused for a moment, considering. They had settled on a literary theme without realizing it. Jane and Keats were authors. Lyra was a plucky, badass heroine.

Maris sighed a little. She didn't have very many favorite male characters. She disliked them almost as much as their real life male counterparts. She thought of characters her wife liked too, nearly laughing when she thought of how cruel it would be to name a boy Darcy.

She wasn't about to give their son A Boy Named Sue syndrome.

She did like one Austen guy though. "Brandon's a nice name," she said after a beat. "But you kind of have to like anyone played by Alan Rickman. And I like Tristan."

Okay, his story was a little tragic and very old school but not bad.

"Or Holden. I think Holden is very... distinguished and yes, I know everyone thinks Holden Caulfield is a little shit. He was a teenager. He was supposed to be written that way."

She shook her head. "Nope. You know how I feel about censorship but Ernest is banned in this house."

She sighed a little, playing with her wife's fingers. "It's a shame I used Byron on my cat already. We could have had a whole romantics theme. You sure you want to veto Percy?" She smiled, remembering Rory wasn't very found of it when they discussed it before.

When talking about their future family, Rory really hadn't ever thought of things as if, but rather an inevitability of when. There were so many names, particularly literary ones that they could have gone for, but it seemed to Rory that once they found the one, it just clicked. That's why Keats had stayed Keats, and Jane was Jane.

"Oh we don't!" Rory said, slightly horrified that they hadn't planned properly... but also more than a little terrified at the idea of the both of them having boys.

Most classic male characters had some bad or even toxic traits. Or otherwise a really ridiculous name.

"Tristan is a good one, actually." Rory pouted her lips as she pondered, but laughed at a couple of these suggestions. "I mean we could go for Percy but in that case we have to be super mean and make it like Percy Heathcliff." She laughed softly, but her mind was still turning over different ideas.

It was hard when there was no real male author even that she deeply loved. "Arthur? There are some classics that can span through the authors and characters, like William or Henry."

She tapped her fingers on her chin and then shot up a little... before taking it back, sheepishly laughing and bowing her head against Maris' shoulder. "I thought about Victor after Frankenstein, but he wasn't uh, the best guy."

"Heathcliff is salvageable! Heath is alright. Even if it makes me think of the candy bar. Or Heath Ledger."

She smiled as her wife got shy, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. "I think you'd be safe. Nobody really remembers Frankenstein's first name anyway. It does seem to always be a name for bad guys, though. Ramona used to watch this soap opera." Maris paused. "Probably still does, actually. I don't remember much but I do remember the main villain was named Victor. The bad connotations are there. What about... actually wait, I don't know if I like it considering everyone's first instinct would be to think Bloom, but... Orlando has some lovely Virginia and Shakespearean connections."

Maris wrinkled her nose. "Or they'll think we're one of those gross couples who names their kids after where they fuck and think we have a soft spot for Florida."

"I do like Heath, which... we love our candy. And rest in peace, Heath." It was kind of nice... though Rory had a sudden thought. "So long as no one ever calls him Cliff. That sounds like a 50 year old golf playing douchebag."

Rory couldn't help the way that Maris' kiss and reassurance made her beam with a smile, the care that Maris always gave to her to make her feel heard, and not ridiculous (even when she was being such a way) was one of the infinite things she loved about her wife.

"That's true. And everyone thinks Frankenstein is the monster, anyway. I suppose we shouldn't go for full soap opera villain?" She smirked, thinking about it an extra moment. "Though it could be kind of funny." No, picking their kids name based on funny was not a good idea. "Oh! Orlando. I do like Orlando."

"In that case we'd have to name him London. Or if we're going for the first time... Manhattan? Not quite the ring to it if we don't want to be pretentious fucks about it." Sometimes she really did miss New York, though London certainly fit them so well. Mostly she missed the bagels, to be honest. "Woolf wouldn't even be terrible, if only it didn't make us sound like hippie lesbian parents."

Maris wrinkled her nose. "London is way too trendy and I know it's just a city and technically unisex but... every London I've heard of is a girl. Same with Brooklyn."

She sighed a little, inadvertently rubbing her stomach before closing the book in her hand. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. At least we have a name for either option ready. We're only screwed if I end up with twin boys which... is a horror story on about five different levels."

Surely they'd have told them if that was the case by now. Unless it was too early. Or twins somehow happened later. Did they run in either of their families? She suddenly found herself wishing her genealogy search had proved a bit more fruitful.

She returned the book back to it's place on shelf and lowered herself to the floor to sit with Rory again. "Once we go back and get a little more reassurance and a better idea of my due date I should probably get things rolling on setting up my maternity leave. That kind of thing takes ages to go through and I don't want to be stuck not getting paid or worrying about them not holding my position when the time comes."

"They are pretentious brat names, let's be honest." Rory made a face in return, but laughed when she thought about one girl named London she'd had her first year when teaching in Maine. She actually was an actual brat who rarely turned in her work on time. And Rory had caught her plagiarizing a paper, on top of it. No, those sort of names would not do.

Rory laughed softly, bowing her head to kiss the side of Maris' neck and then her shoulder before leaning her cheek against it. "Honestly, I will think we'd really pissed someone off in another life if karma gives us two boys. But of course, I will love them very much." She added quickly.

Twins mercifully did not run in Rory's family, that she knew of anyway. She knew there were certain types of fertility treatments that had a higher rate of multiple births but ... she was glad that didn't seem to be the route they'd needed to take, at least not so far.

As Maris returned to their spot, Rory slid her hand along her arm until her fingers laced through hers to hold her hand. "That's a good idea. And I know we haven't talked about this yet, but I think it'd be good for me to take maternity leave as well? I think we'll be okay to both take the time, and I already know I'm not going to want to be away from either of you."

Maris was slowly getting things done. She knew things were still in the early and with it, tenuous stages. She knew there was still a high chance her pregnancy wouldn't stick and didn't want to go around telling their bosses and scheduling blocks of time off only to have to say nevermind somewhere down the line. The fear of jinxing things was still there, but another doctor's appointment would help her feel better about things. Seeing the baby and hearing about her progress would make things more tangible. Besides, she wasn't entirely sure when her due date was or when she should ease off on working, if ever. She was pretty sure the few friends she had with children had worked right up to their due date. She didn't see why she couldn't do the same if things kept progressing as normally as they had been.

She needed to have a chat with an expert first.

Maris knew she'd want as much time with Rory and the baby as possible. Family bonding time was important and she didn't want her wife not having as much time with the baby as she did, but she was beginning to wonder who would look after the baby when they were both back at work.

Well taken care of by family, Maris was still uneasy about the idea of daycare since it wasn't something she had experienced before. The idea of strangers watching their baby kind of made her blood run cold.

"Maybe we should wait until my leave runs out before you take yours," she said. It seemed smart to have one of them constantly at home with the baby for as long as possible. "You could use up all your vacation right after, then take your leave once I have to go back? You'd kind of get your own block of one on one time with them too."

It wasn't ideal. Maris liked the idea of the three of them constantly being together, especially as they all adjusted and got used to each other, but their nights would be their own and as much as they would be a unit, it seemed important that they each got a bit of time with their child on their own.

Maris nuzzled Rory's neck a bit. "We'll all miss each other, but everyone does, I think."

There were a lot of things to consider in the coming months, and beyond that, all the shifts and changes they would be making to their daily routines all in preparation for the biggest change of all. Sometimes it still felt unreal, that they were really doing this, and their growing family was underway. She had some experience, just watching her younger sister go through her pregnancies, but even then, Maggie worked from home so a maternity leave wasn't that much of a shift. By the time she was pregnant with her second, Charlie, she felt sort of old-hat about the whole thing. She knew what to expect anyway.

Rory wondered if when it was her turn, she would feel wholly unprepared. It was one thing to watch the people she loved go through pregnancy and birth, and unimaginable how it would feel on the other side.

But that was something for later. Right now, Rory was wholly focused on her wife and their child ever growing inside of her.

Rory pondered Maris' suggestion for a moment, nodding a little bit as she considered it. She wanted to make sure her bond with their child was as strong as possible, particularly in the early days. She wasn't too concerned, at least on the surface, that the baby wouldn't acknowledge her as their mother, but every once in a while she worried the bond wouldn't be as strong. A silly thing to worry about, but it crept in every so often.

"That's actually a really good idea. I'll have a good two weeks of vacation by then. Enough to get us all settled, yeah?" She smiled softly, just at the very idea that they were talking about this.

A slow grin crept across her face as she turned towards her wife, sliding her arm tightly around her as she pulled her in closer. Her free hand hooked under her wife's chin as she leaned in and kissed her softly, slowly. "I'm going to be insufferable without you during the days. I hope you realize this."

Maris knew going back to work once she had the baby would probably be hard. The same friends who worked right up until delivery complained about how they didn't want to go back to work once their leave was over. She knew she'd miss the baby. She knew that even if she probably would be leaving them with Rory, she'd worry about them too, but she also knew she'd miss her wife just as much.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, marriage had changed them, bringing them closer in a way she couldn't describe. The process of getting pregnant had brought them closer still. It had been a bonding experience. Maris had never wanted Rory more. She kind of needed her close by in a way that made her wonder if the baby had something to do with it. Did it sense that Rory was it's mother and want to be by her constantly? Maris may have been a largely unemotional and unattached person (at least when her wife and her soon to be family were taken out of the equation, but she'd followed her father and especially her grandfather, who was around slightly more since he was the one minding her while John was at work, like a lost puppy when she was small.

Maris would miss being away from her wife. If her love for her was growing this much during pregnancy, she could only imagine how much she would feel when she saw her as a mother.

And there was something about knowing you were missed that made that mutual longing so much worse.

"You're going to be fine," she said softly, smoothing some of Rory's long hair over her shoulder. "Because I married a strong, brilliant, capable woman." Her dropped an octave as she leaned forward to let their lips brush. "Who also happens to be incredibly sexy."

Once she kissed her properly, she didn't pull away. The kiss lingered, deepening until their bodies were pressed together and Maris used her weight to nudge Rory onto her back and then the floor.

They'd be apart plenty. And it would be weird for them to start going to work alone for a while when their current arrangement meant waking up, riding the train and working in the same building where they'd see each other throughout the day even if they didn't have time to visit, but they weren't apart now.

It was still just the two of them and there wasn't quite so much to worry about just yet.

It seemed wise, important, even to take advantage of that.

Their paint job was half done. Maris hadn't even finished her sandwich, but she didn't care. She subtly shoved their lunch plates off to the side and out of the way before breaking the kiss to pull her faded tee shirt over her head.

Not terribly busty, Maris had never been a bra off as soon as she entered the house sort. They never bothered her one way or the other, but her bras were getting a little snug. That combined with a newfound propensity for sweating meant that they were more trouble than they were worth lately.

So Maris was topless as she leaned down to kiss her wife again, tongue running over her lower lip to encourage her to open her mouth.

Sometimes it was hard to imagine (even if she didn't like to think about the dark years very often) that they had survived at all without each other. Even beyond that, that they had worked so separately, and managed to make it through weeks and months navigating some very harrowing emotional hurdles, too. It was just hard to think of a time when they didn't have the luxury of being together all the time. Where she didn't just have to call out at home and Maris would be there to answer some dumb question she had about a TV show she couldn't remember. Or a time when she couldn't just lean back and see her wife across the hall.

They had come such a long way, and Rory too felt like they were closer than ever. Somehow, they had grown together in a way she hadn't even anticipated. And Rory was usually a planner.

Rory smiled at the compliments that dripped from her wife's lips, a blush rising in her cheeks as she leaned into her and kissed her back. "You know you're saying all these things that apply to you too, right?" Rory countered with a cheeky grin, but it didn't last long because she needed to melt into the kiss.

It was crazy how her body heat spiked immediately with the way her wife kissed her. Still, always.

Rory didn't hesitate to draw Maris on top of her, her thighs spreading to slide on either side of her wife and help her settle between them.

The entirety of their goal in this room was forgotten as soon as Maris kissed her. Rory kissed her deeply, her lips parting to greet her tongue with her own as a low moan escaped the barely-there space between them.

As far as Rory was concerned, bras were pretty barbaric, and never wore one at home unless they were having company. She flashed a wide grin as Maris lost her shirt, her hands coming up between their bodies until her palms rolled over her breasts and squeezed - gently. She wasn't sure in the pregnancy just how sensitive they were.

"You're so sexy," She murmured against her wife's lips, not usually one for too much chit chat, but feeling overwhelmed by just how beautiful, sexy, powerful her own wife was. She punctuated her point by raising her hips to buck at Maris', all while lowering one hand to tug at her pants.

"We're more alike than not, you know," Maris murmured. It was something she thought about a lot these days as she wondered what their child would be like. Not everyone was a carbon copy of their parents. Maris certainly hoped she wasn't, but she had a feeling their child would be an independent, bookish sort with a strong sense of self. She just hoped they wouldn't have her hard head and occasional pettiness.

Maris' breasts were sensitive these days, but in the best way possible. The soft, almost whiny groan that fell from her lips as they were squeezed was a sound usually reserved for when Rory's hand was between her legs. Maris liked her breasts touched, kissed, teased and toyed with as much as the next woman, but they had never been one of her spots. She knew her wife would notice the change, especially when her cheeks warmed at how needy she sounded already. And the way her hips immediately bucked into her in almost retaliation.

It just felt different and in this case, slightly better these days (something that couldn't be said for other parts of her body). She let Rory take off her shorts an easy task when they were just an elastic waistband with no ties or buttons to fumble with.

Then she undressed her wife, Rory's shirt very narrowly missing falling into their open paint can as she tossed it across the room.

Once they were both naked, Maris' lips made their way down Rory's jaw and collarbone. Her kisses were soft, but became slightly noisy as she reached her breasts, her tongue darting out to circle and tease her nipple before taking it into her mouth to suck. She held Rory's gaze while she did it, an almost cheeky gleam in her eye that said payback was a bitch.

She gave each breast equal attention, but slid more comfortably between Rory's legs as she moved from one to the next, a hand sliding down between them to gently stroke her wife, wanting to make sure she was extra slick and relaxed before she brought their bodies together. She rubbed and played and sucked slowly, gentle and lazy like they had all the time in the world because they did at the moment. Crying babies and curious toddlers wandering in when things were just getting good were something for future them to deal with and worry about.

Her breath hitched a little as she let her mouth fall from her wife's breast, reveling in the warm wetness greeting her hand.

"Oh, that's my girl," she murmured, her voice breathy like she swallowed a moan. "You're always so fucking ready for me."

"We are." Rory agreed with a gentle smile, and it was something that had occurred to her a few times as well. Rory liked to think that she'd learned a lot from Maris, and their relationship together. It was bound to happen, not only when you loved someone so much, but when the person she'd chosen to spend her life with was so intellectually matched (even more so) with her. All of the challenges they had been through had made them grow, and looking back to who she had been when she was younger, Rory was glad for each bit of growing she'd done.

She felt prepared to be someone's mom, or at least as prepared as she could be. There was just nobody else she could even consider doing any of this with. Her wife was the best person she'd known, and she'd say that to anyone.

Rory's lips flashed a grin at Maris' moan, the sound itself seeming to strike right to Rory's core. She hummed her own delighted sound in reply, as she let her thumbs brush over her nipples and then again, teasing them as she felt them going hard.

They had mastered the art of undressing each other at this point, a kind of thing that could be as slow or fast as they needed in the moment. Today was quicker than most, but lounge clothes helped for that. Rory let out a louder moan as Maris' mouth moved over her body, her back arched, pressing her breasts into her wife's mouth. Her own whine strangled in the back of her throat as it was her turn for her nipples to go hard against her wife's warm mouth.

"Oh god, honey..." She moaned, the way Maris touched her made her feel hot all over, but greedy for more, greedy to touch her wife in earnest, even if she couldn't reach her at present. She felt no rush even though she was impatient. An odd dichotomy, really.

"You always make me so wet." She whined back at her, her hips bucking into her hand, rocking almost as gently as she was being touched. "Come here, I need to touch you." Rory demanded gently, a smirk on her lips as she slid her hand down Maris' back, drawing her close enough that she could slide her hand over her ass to begin to tease her pussy from behind.

Rory wasn't the only one who was wet. Her breasts were sensitive and pleasing her wife had always pleased her, but Maris had always liked being rubbed (and taken) from behind.

And Rory knew it.

Her breath hitched, that first bit of contact eliciting a full body shiver before she started rocking against her wife's hand in kind. She let their lips brush before the pair started kissing in earnest, their kisses just as languid and purposeful as everything else they were doing.

Maris' fingers teased Rory's entrance, occasionally straying inside her but never filling her in earnest. They occasionally rubbed and circled her clit, but this was play. An exercise in enjoying and maybe even showing off with each other. She knew how she wanted both of them to come, warm, wet and pulsing against each other. She wanted to please Rory with her entire body, but this was a different kind of closeness. And she was kind of addicted to it, in an almost trance where her current, most pressing want was to make her wife feel good for as long as possible.

And not just because prolonging pleasure had a way of making both of them come even harder when the moment did arrive.

"Darling," she breathed, a pet name falling from her lips because as turned on as she was, there was something soft about this too. "Fuck, that feels so good. Don't..."

The sentence tapered off with a moan but Maris knew Rory knew the rest of it.

Don't stop. She didn't want her to ever stop. It had a double meaning these days. As much as she loved Rory. As much as she knew Rory loved her and that same love was slowly morphing into something else (even if it was something stronger and more sacred) these days, she still worried about what would happen to them and this aspect of their relationship when they were parents.

She knew she'd never stop wanting Rory. She just hoped she'd still want her.

A scary thing for a confident, occasionally vain woman to come to terms with. She didn't like talking about it with her wife. It seemed whiny, insecure, pathetic. Selfish, really.

She had more important things to worry about than staying hot and appearing unshakable to everyone around her, even her wife. She didn't like being the sort of woman who needed constant reassurance.

But her wife's touch was doing a pretty good job of making her feel desired right now.

She let out a sharp cry, her pussy pulsing hard enough for there to be a heavy ache between her legs. She knew she wouldn't last much longer, that she was close to the edge even though Rory seemed to understand that neither of them wanted to come yet.

She roughly brought their bodies together and well aware of the angles that worked for them by now, they slid in place like puzzle pieces. A far off thought told her that she should probably enjoy that feeling while she still could. This position might not be so easy (or even possible) once her belly grew and became an obstacle between them. The realization just made her grip her wife's lower back tighter. That first little rock and feel of warm, wet, pulsing skin on skin elicited an almost sob of pleasure from Maris. It felt better than she could possibly put into words, but she still rocked slowly, not wanting to rush now either.

In knowing her wife as well as she did, Rory did indeed know exactly what would get to her wife more than others. Knowing and loving someone for as long as they had, they knew every inch that would elicit a sharper moan than others, an involuntary reaction or a purposeful one. Yet the excitement and good god how incredible their sex was never waned. It was like knowing each other so well simply enhanced it every single time.

Rory still marveled at the very idea they got anything done at all some days.

She flashed a grin against her wife’s lips as she earned that shiver, and she wanted more. Her fingers began to rub against her in earnest, moaning softly as she let her fingertips tease her entrance. But she wasn’t a tease, and only after a few seconds did she slide one finger inside of her wife.

Everything Maris was doing to her, Rory was retaliating in kind. Her breathing became more labored, soft whimpers and whines leaving her lips without trying to stifle any of them. Her hips rocked into Maris’ hand, but she wanted more. She always wanted more until they were both completely, utterly spent.

“Never, babe.” She hummed against her lips, the pleas coming from her wife just egging her on. She began to fuck her in earnest a little harder, deliberate with each thrust of her fingers inside of her. She wasn’t going to stop, not at all.

Rory’s own breath came in rougher pants as they fucked each other, her head spinning as her back arched, which gave her a different kind of leverage to begin thrusting two fingers inside of her wife.

As excited as Rory was about being a mom, there would be something to be said about sharing her wife and her attention, and vice versa. She figured that in the first weeks especially, there would be some adjustments for sure, but Rory knew that she’d want Maris just as much, even more if that would even be possible.

“That’s my girl, right there.” She purred at her, marveling at her wife as she cried out like that. She could feel the pulse of her pussy against her hand, which in turn made her own throb even harder.

Rory’s fingers slipped out of Maris as her wife became a woman on a mission. And god was it sexy. She looked up at her with a wide, wicked kind of grin in her delight. She knew it was going to feel good, but the second Maris angled herself to fit her pussy against hers, Rory gasped sharply, a cry coming from deep in her chest and only tapered off as she snapped her teeth together. “Oh god, I’m so fucking hot for you, honey.” Her own pet name reserved for special moments, and ones where her mind was completely gone.

She took a deep breath, willing herself to relax from the frenzy of how good it felt to touch her wife. “I love you so much.” She hummed up at her wife, fully aware how overly romantic the words were during sex, but needing to say them just the same. And as if to make up for the utterly soft moment, she clapped her hand against Maris’ thigh, digging her fingers into her flesh as she began to rock her hips back at hers, the angle making her whole head spin as they rocked together.

Maris had been on the edge before she brought their bodies together. She knew it wouldn't take long for her to come, even at their current pace. Rocking slow, but hard, the pair was still reveling in each other, drawing out every second of pleasure for all it was worth.

Sex had a different kind of intensity lately. Maris had never been shy in bed, asking for what she needed and all too eager to tell her wife exactly what she was about to do to her, but like Rory she had been overly chatty. Some people were chatty, noisy to the point of being obnoxious. There was such a thing as moaning too loudly or too much but Maris was vocal lately. She couldn't help it.

Not when being with Rory felt this good.

The outside drizzle never faded, providing a faint soundtrack to every little gasp and sigh, though they were mostly muffled by the kisses Maris couldn't seem to stop going in for. As the pulse between her legs intensified and the two of them really found their rhythm, she slid her hands up to cup and squeeze her own breasts, taking advantage of their current sensitivity. It was enough to make her see stars when she finally came, shivering just a little harder than usual as she ground into her wife with everything she had, wanting to send her right over the edge too.

"I love you," she gasped, her voice thick as they both rode out every little buzzy aftershock, her head falling onto Rory's collarbone as her lips brushed every bit of skin they could reach. "Fuck, I love you so much..."

Much as the both of them might want to prolong the moment, Rory was well aware that the moment their highly sensitive, pulsing pussies touched to each other, it was a very short matter of time before they both crashed over the edge. But Rory wouldn't change it for anything, not when her whole body erupted in shivers and moans fell freely from her lips.

Rory was always vocal with Maris, usually losing her ability to string together coherent sentences, but always a mess of moans and rudimentary words thrown in that couldn't be held in otherwise.

She could sense that there was a shift in them, something unspoken that somehow had intensified their bond. They were starting a family together, they were going to be parents, they had more than each other to protect and love. Rory marveled at how it had already expanded between them, like its own entity of charged energy and love that only had room to grow.

Rory's hips rocked almost frantically into every thrust of Maris', easily finding the rhythm they knew well, but somehow more. "Oh that's it." She purred up at her wife as she watched her cup her breasts, as Rory managed to raise one of her own hands and join in, squeezing, teasing her nipples when Maris' hands might shift to allow her the space to.

Her hands legitimately shook as the rest of her followed suit. She came hard, her head spinning as she cried out her wife's name, here moments after Maris had come. "I love you." She panted back, feeling like she knew no other words than those three. Her fingers dragged up Maris' neck, tangling in her hair there and brushing almost soothingly against her scalp. Her lungs burned and her whole body buzzed, but there was a whole grin on her face, stretching from ear to ear. "And to think, I don't even think you've hit the trimester where you're going to want that all the time." Rory teased, a playful buck of her hips against Maris' to punctuate her joke, but it really only served to send a shiver up her spine at how sensitive she was.

Maris didn't see how she could want Rory more than she already did. She'd always been insatiable, especially when it came to her wife, but both marriage had brought about evolution. Pregnancy had already started doing the same so she was eager to see where it took them.

"Then maybe we should take leave now because there's no way we're getting to work every morning if this gets worse."

Maris grinned and dropped a kiss on her wife's nose, slowly rolling off of her wife and onto her side.

She already missed her warmth, the feeling of soft yet firm skin to skin contact. Rory's sensitivity hadn't gone unnoticed so Maris reached over, her hand sliding between her wife's legs to rub her with the same sort of slow strokes that had gotten them started in the first place.

It only proved her point. She already felt like she didn't know how to stop as far as Rory was concerned, but she couldn't help it. She loved touching her. She was addicted to making her feel good. It turned her on, of course but Maris was mostly consumed by the idea that her wife deserved to be pleased.

"You sure you can handle me when that time comes?" she murmured, eyes twinkling a bit because they both already knew the answer.

"I mean I'm all in for using up vacation days." Rory grinned as she nuzzled her nose against Maris' and kissed her quickly just as she rolled off of her.

Her entire body was buzzing, that kind of thrumming pulse that settled into her very bones as they lay there together. Never so much of a come down as it was just the bliss that came after.

And sensitive. Her breath caught audibly in her throat as Maris touched her, a soft whine escaping her lips as she reached out and blindly slid her hand over Maris' hip. It was true that their desire for each other was always out of this world kind of intense, and remained so. The idea that that would get even more intense? Well bring it on.

"Is that a challenge, wife?" Rory raised an eyebrow, but her voice was thick with lust, a little labored from her wife's touch. As she gazed up at her wife, her own twinkling eyes matched. She slid her hand from Maris' hip and then between her thighs, not an ounce of hesitation as she slid her fingers flat against her to tease her sensitive pussy right back. "I think I've handled you pretty well so far." She smirked, leaning in and barely brushing her lips against her wife's. "And you know I never back down from a challenge, sweetheart."