Rory was nervous. Why was she nervous? It had been a while since she'd changed a shirt three times before leaving the house, but nothing felt quite right. It was almost as though she were meeting their baby today, rather than just finding out if they were having a boy or a girl. Not, of course, as she liked to remind herself, she wouldn't respect if later in their life they had a whole gender journey, but that was not the current predicament.

She already felt like their child was real. Maris told her how attached she was, and Rory had to admit that she was as well. She cared so much about the little person growing inside her wife, and already felt like she was taking on a more protective role whenever she thought about it. Even driving, she felt like she was just slightly more cautious than usual. She was more aware of their surroundings when they were on the tube, or out and about. Not that she was manic about it or anything, but she just felt slightly heightened in that regard.

She'd settled on jeans and a white t-shirt under a red blazer. Spring was finally arriving in London and it felt nice to put away the winter clothes and bask in the actual sun that came in through the clouds. Of course everyone always said how dreary London was, but really, the sun came out to play plenty.

After they'd gotten off at their stop, it was just a couple of blocks from the station to their doctor's office. She walked with her fingers laced through her wife's, pausing at a crosswalk and giving her hand a little squeeze. "How are you feeling?" She asked, her tone a little bouncy as her own (excited) nerves ran through her.

Maris felt like finding out the sex of their baby was the final piece of the puzzle. The one thing she needed to really get into gear and thus start buying the mountain of things they'd need before the baby arrived.

But mostly she'd just be relieved she could stop referring to their child as an it. The few people who knew they were expecting kept asking her if she had an inkling one way or the other and Maris had to begrudingly tell them that no, she didn't know exactly what sort of creature was growing inside her. It was a slightly disconcerting notion, really. To know so little about someone she was sharing a body and eventually her life with.

Knowing she'd need to eventually tug her pants down and her top up off she'd dressed loose and comfortably in a black tunic and faux leather leggings, smoothing the former out a little as they waited at the crossing.

"Like I want this over with," she said dryly, knowing Rory knew she was mostly annoyed at the appointment aspect rather than the baby one. Maris wanted the answer to the sex question and had been thinking about whether the baby was a boy or a girl more and more as the appointment loomed closer, but as much as she wanted to know more about, not to mention see her baby, she also kind of hated the whole sonogram process. It went beyond the jelly that never seemed to warm up. Being poked and prodded by the nurses while they asked the same questions they asked last time was not fun.

No matter how much she knew everything had to happen if they wanted things to go off without a hitch.

Maris took the lead as they slipped inside, though she had to admit the staff was pretty good about aknowledging Rory and letting her in on the process too.

As expected, she had the same conversation she'd been having with her regular doctor for the thousandth time.

She was fine. She was eating. She wasn't dizzy. She wasn't spotting. She wasn't experiencing anything that alarmed or concerned her.

And then it was time to lie back and think of (babies to be born in) England.

She gritted her teeth as the gel was chilly as ever, reminding herself that it was for good reason and that her next experience with it would be a month away.

Her stomach knotted a little as she turned to the screen and watched the tech move the sensor around. For a minute she didn't see anything and Maris was always scared of that scenario.

Then a blob shifted into frame and she found herself smiling despite herself. The woman started pointing out things like a head, hands and feet but Maris honestly couldn't tell one from the other, showing surprising restraint in telling the tech she wasn't following. It wasn't her fault there wasn't much of anything there yet. Well, okay there was, but nothing clear anyway. She wasn't sure how she could spot the baby's sex when she could barely tell the difference from a head and a butt, but she hadn't exactly gone to school for this and she decided to focus on the fact that everything seemed to be "growing as it should" instead.

"Okay, let's see what we're having, here, huh?"

The woman's brow furrowed as she moved the sensor around. "I think... oh, I think we have a boy!"

"Really?" Maris sat up a little, squinting. She didn't see anything. Maybe a tiny shadow a little bit above where she supposed the baby's feet were. Was that supposed to be his....

Well, she was hardly an expert when it came to those either.

She looked at Rory, eager to see her wife's reaction, but also secretly curious if her wife was having just as much trouble spotting everything the tech was pointing out as she was.

They had purposefully planned so much gender neutral decor and themes to everything around their child thus far, that Rory wondered if anything might change once they knew who they were expecting. Not that anything they could buy would be gendered anyway. She full on expected to have their little boy if they had one in a pastel pink shirt and learning about the importance of radical women told in a way children could absorb, just as much as she might encourage their daughter if they had one if she liked trucks or wanted to play a sport. Rory had loved her time in sports after all, even if she didn’t play much now. Maybe she should look into some sort of lesbian softball league or something… did they even play that in England?

The point was, no matter what they would have, Rory didn’t think it would change the way they raised their child. They would encourage them to read, encourage them to be whoever they were. Hope that their kids wouldn’t be assholes and make damn sure they at very least weren’t entitled little shits. She didn’t think they would, but that was always the worry, right? That something they wouldn’t be able to prepare for.

Today, Rory just smirked at her wife, bumping her shoulder gently with her own. She agreed, getting it over with was a good start. If they could just do all of this on their own without the hospitals and doctors and nurses, that would really be ideal. But of course, there were some necessary moments. It always just reminded her that their little bubble had to include some interlopers at times.

Rory greeted everyone as they went through to the room, but she hung back so Maris could answer all the questions and be the focus, as she should. When time came, she stood next to her wife and took her hand, glad that at least she could be there in the uncomfortable moment of the sonogram.

She was nervous too. Why was she so nervous? They weren’t going to be meeting their baby just yet … but it kind of felt like it.

Rory’s heart jumped to her throat when that little shape started to move around on the screen. Hi baby she said in her own mind, noting even if it was completely ridiculous, that the baby moving around looked strong. Okay it was a barely baby shaped blob, but she was still proud of them. Similarly to her wife, she didn’t really see what they were pointing out. She wasn’t seeing fingers and toes, but that made sense. The head at least, seemed to be a distinct different shape than the rest of the body.

“Oh!” Rory exclaimed the moment the doctor said it. A boy. For as much as they had talked about Keats, and Keats maybe being their first, it still had just been a silly bit of a joke to play around with. Now they were having a boy. Keats. Rory already loved him.

She turned her gaze to her wife, her brows arching up as they locked eyes. “A boy.” She laughed a little bit, which probably confused the doctor, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m going to have to read so many more books.”

For all her joking that of course they were having Keats just like they'd always planned, Maris was a bit taken aback by the news. Fears about being a very poor boy mom started to bubble up again. Sure, Keats might turn out to be a calm, slightly introverted reader like herself and Rory but he could also be your cliche rough and tumble type jumping all over couches and insisting someone watch Transformers or play football with him. She didn't even want to think about male puberty, something she knew nothing about. She felt a pang, wishing for her father or even Eli was around to help ease her fears on that front. She found herself thinking the baby would need them, or at least a male figure even if she ultimately knew she and Rory could handle things.

It was just... well, she knew what it was like to not have a same sex parent around. Doing things like asking her father to run and get pads or asking her father if it was time to shave her legs had been an awkward experience.

"She reads all the books," Maris joked to the tech, inwardly cringing at how much she sounded like a cretin.

She read. She read plenty. She just didn't want to read about this and drive herself insane.

The appointment wrapped up. Apart from a new photo of the baby and the knowledge it was a boy, everything was very much the same.

So why did this news feel kind of monumental?

Maris held tight to Rory's hand as they left the office, squinting as the spring sun was more intense as she anticipated.

"So a little less focus on the mermaids in our Neverland mural, I guess?" she joked. "Now we can start getting everything monogrammed like the bougie soccer....excuse me, football mums we're gonna become."

Rory already loved their child, and of course this didn't change any bit of that, but it did give her a swell of nerves. She wasn't entirely sure how they would manage a boy. Of course she knew they would, and they'd be loving, great parents, but it would just be an adjustment. It was funny to her that after they had been used to thinking about Keats being first, it felt real now. It would be so interesting to navigate that with her wife, but she knew they were up for the challenge. She knew that if there were any women who would love their son and raise him to be a good man, it was them. He sort of wouldn't have a choice with the two of them for mothers.

It was nerve wracking though, as Rory suddenly felt very aware that she had almost no idea of what it was like to have men in her family. Even her grandfather had died before she hit teenage years, and her father had left before she'd hit any real formative years beyond the normal childhood trauma at least.

So yeah, a lot of books.

Rory laughed a little and rolled her eyes at her wife's teasing, but it was true. She always had some new thing she was reading or looking up information on, and if she wasn't, then she was rapt in attention, listening to a new discovery of her wife's research or opinion or reading. It was one of the many, many things that worked so well with them. Rory was always intellectually stimulated with her wife.

She was relieved once they left the office, her hand tight in her wife's as she slid her sunglasses over her own eyes. "Oh no, we're putting in more mermaids. He's going to know the dangers of being a brutish pirate." She grinned, pausing to look at her wife. "You're going native, wife." Rory teased and leaned in to kiss Maris. As nervous as she was about a boy, she couldn't help but be giddy about it. They knew a little bit more about the tiny stranger.

"Keats, then." She said softly, not wanting to be so obvious in public, but letting their entwined hands lower just enough that she could rub their fingers together against her wife's stomach, just gently. "How about I get him and his mum an ice cream on this sunny day to celebrate?"

Maris smiled, realizing, for the first time, that their children just might call her mum to fit in with their friends. "Our kids are going to sound so much classier than us," she said, ultimately deciding she didn't mind if they ended up with British accents. Keats would have a natural one as opposed to some Madonna-esque put on.

And some of Maris' friends, particularly her New York ones, were beginning to tease her for sounding "posh". She didn't know if she was picking up a british accent, but she had referenced things like the tube and a pub with particularly good "chips" in conversations, lately.

Rory's teasing about going native wasn't too far off.

"Fine, but we'll eat it on the way to the tube station. It's nice out and I want to catch the next train so we can get home before Gentleman Jack starts."

Maris kept a hold of Rory's hand as they headed toward an ice cream shop they liked and knew was nearby.

"You know, if we end up with two boys... when it's your turn Jack isn't a bad first name option. We'll know who he's named after."

The ice cream shop was slow since it was the middle of the afternoon, so Maris got herself a mint chocolate chip cone with no wait, playing with her wife's fingertips while the girl behind the counter headed to the back to fetch more of the flavor Rory wanted.

"Do you remember...." Maris ducked her head for a moment at the memory before continuing, "We went out for ice cream in Maine and that was when we decided to run away together? That one beach trip we took before you came back and..."

Imploded your entire life and relationship came to mind but she knew Rory didn't see it that way.

"I think about that every time we get ice cream now."

The idea that their kids might have little British accents had dawned on Rory a few times now, and she had to admit that it was appealing and adorable. Every once in a while, even Rory found herself second guessing whether or not to add a u into certain words ... and she had long since stopped correcting papers that used the spelling.

They really were slowly but surely adopting their new homeland as their own, and the roots they were putting in here always felt right, whenever they did. She wasn't sure if the rest of their lives would be spent in London or even the UK, but it felt like they had really chosen the best place to start and raise their family.

"You read my mind." Rory beamed, leaning in and stealing one brief kiss from her wife before they set off on their way. Yet another thing that felt right was welcoming Gentleman Jack into their life, when the last finale had been somewhat (or very much) of a catalyst for their relationship starting up again.

"You know, I don't hate it... other than the fact that we'd have two boys." Rory laughed, shaking her head a little at the idea. They'd love their sons, of course they would, but Rory would be lying if it wasn't a little scary -- just the unknown.

Rory tried two flavors before finally settling on a dark chocolate with raspberry and chips in it, having decided the pistachio was just a bit too bland of a flavor, despite the vibrant color. Once ordered, she smiled and leaned in a little closer to her wife, her fingertips dancing along Maris'.

The memory Maris brought up was a fond one, a soft smile gracing her features as she nodded. "Of course I remember." She said through her smile. The time had been so affirming to her, to the both of them. Rory had a lot more hills to climb, so to speak, and it really had been a delicate time... but she wouldn't have done anything differently. She would have gone away with Maris a million times over, and made every same decision.

"It's a good memory." She said, leaning in and kissing her wife's cheek just as the door chimed with someone coming in.

Rory could barely look up before the rapid beat of tiny feet blew past them, a little girl with dark red curls ignoring them as though they were inanimate objects as she made her way to the display case of flavors. Somehow the maybe four? year old scrambled up onto the ledge and pressed her hands and nose against the glass. "Mummy! They have the pink flavor!" She chirped in the tiniest posh accent as she turned excitedly to her mother who was just coming in with a stroller and an even tinier child in tow. "I see that Fiona, but can you please say excuse me to the nice ladies you nearly bowled over?" The mother spoke, exasperated and with an apologetic glance to Rory and Maris.

There was a reason Maris taught high school. She didn't always have patience for small children. She was working on it as best as she could without having a child of her own yet. Which was probably why she smiled rather than rolling her eyes when the little girl darted in front of them.

Or maybe impending motherhood really did have her going soft.

Maris had even less patience for parents who let their children act like barbarians, but the woman's apology went a long way.

"It's alright." Maris waved a hand before leaning down a bit. "What's the pink flavor?" she asked, having a feeling it wasn't strawberry.

"Bubble gum."

Maris fought the urge to make a face. She liked it as much as anyone as a kid, but she also thought it was probably a good thing that particular flavor never seemed to last for long. She couldn't imagine eating a whole cone of it.

"Yours is a funny color," the little girl added with a point and a laugh. "And it has spots."

"You've never seen mint chocolate chip before?" Maris asked incredulously.

"Mint! Like toothpaste!?" Fiona said, echoing Maris shocked tone.

With the amount of the heathen-type children and the parents who allowed them to run amuck, it was nice that as Fiona breezed past them, her mother seemed keen on actually instilling some manners.

And for her part, Fiona bit at her knuckles and muttered a "sorry", though it wasn't for petulance but shy. Rory smiled as Maris took right to discussing with her what flavor she was going to have.

She was beaming by the time the pair of them were on about mint vs. toothpaste. "But it also has chocolate bits in it." Rory interjected with a smile. The revelation of toothpaste plus chocolate seemed to blow little Fiona's mind for a moment.

"Yours has red in it!" She pointed out to Rory, and she nodded as she took a bite of it. "Raspberry and chocolate. There's a whole world of flavors for ya outside of bubble gum." Rory smiled at her and said to her mother, just a little acknowledge of how darling she was.

As they walked out with their ice cream in hand, Rory paused and tugged Maris in close to her, leaning in to kiss her (albeit cold) lips. "Don't worry, our kids will know the delicious delicacy that mint chip ice cream is."

"Of course, we're not monsters," Maris teased, quickly starting on her cone. She took a quick look at her watch. Not really a phone person, nor the sort of teacher who wanted to whip theirs out when she scolded against her students doing the same with theirs, she was one of the few people she knew who still wore one. The slim, silver bracelet style watch had been one of the last few presents she'd gotten from her grandfather.

By now she had the train schedule pretty well memorized, so once she was pretty sure they had a few extra minutes before they needed to get to the stop, she headed over to a nearby bench to sit with Rory.

"I put in my leave since they gave us a due date last time," she said. "They told me I have to give them all my lesson plans for the time I'm out in advance and the previous month's in case they yank me out sooner."

Maris rolled her eyes a bit. Even though she had every intention of doing mostly the same lessons she had written up during her first year, it did seem like a monumental task. Besides, she didn't just keep repeating herself year after year. Some classes needed extra lessons in certain areas if they didn't seem to be latching onto something. She tweaked things day by day, something some poor sub probably wouldn't be able to do.

"And they won't tell me who is watching them for me. I thought they'd just give one of the other history teachers my classes but they have to find someone from outside the school so I'll have no clue who I'm dealing with until the time comes."

"Exactly." Rory winked, but found it oddly exciting to think about the way their children would discover things. Keats now. How he would like ice cream, what faces he would make when it was cold on his tongue, what flavor he'd eventually want. It was enough to make her emotional -- but she didn't give the thought enough time to actually make her misty. That, and she had the delicious distraction of ice cream.

Sitting with Maris, she sat close like always, their thighs touching as they ate beside each other.

"Oh did you?" Rory's brows shot up in surprise, but it made sense. Best to actually let the school prepare for her wife's absence. It felt so real, discussing these practical things that needed taking care of. "...All of them? That seems like over prepared, but I suppose it makes sense... Are they going to get some actual dolt to cover your classes?" Rory didn't like the idea of a substitute in her wife's stead, but it was necessary.

It was probably a good thing that the school wasn't preparing for a sub to come in and just let the kids watch movies every day.

"Are you going to have to meet them to discuss? You know I'll keep an eye out on them when you're gone. Well, when I'm there of course." Rory would wait to take her real maternity leave until later, but wanted to at least spend the first week with Maris and their child, at least. It was going to be torture to actually leave them, and she knew it.

"I think I'll only get to talk to them in person when I hand everything over. And I'm supposed to give them all my information in case they need to get in touch to ask questions or something."

It was something Maris would have done anyway. She didn't like the idea of reliquishing control of her classroom even though she knew she couldn't physically be there. She hated being in the dark even though she knew the sub could and probably would reach out if need be. She really didn't like knowing who she was dealing with.

She also didn't like having to rush things she was planning on dealing with as they came. With the quarter ending, she was busy enough with grades and now she had to get another set of ducks in a row. Combined with pregnancy it seemed like a lot at once, but she knew she probably wouldn't complain or even mention it again. She just figured Rory should know why she'd probably be spending a bit more time in her office. At least she wouldn't be as surprised by how much she had to turn in when it was her turn to have a baby and sit things out.

"I'm just a bit... worried that they might hire a generic sub as opposed to a history teacher. I mean, maybe they'll get an expert since it's kind of long term but if it's just... someone's mom or something, I just hope I won't have to explain a ton to them.

"Okay well that is something at least. I hope they won't rush you. It's your class, after all." Rory was always protective over her wife, it was true, even if she didn't always need her to be. She knew that any teacher they'd get would pale in comparison, but Rory hoped that they'd at least be able to keep up.

Maris was a brilliant teacher, and that was something she admired so much about her wife. She inspired her to be better in her own class, whether or not that was something she actively acknowledged, or was just something that felt natural.

"I know. My guess would be they wouldn't though? Our school is a bit snobby when it comes to hires." Rory teased, and took a thoughtful bite of her ice cream. "I can help you in any way I can. But I know how solid your lesson plans are, babe. I think whoever jumps in for you, they'll be able to hit the ground running."

Maris smiled when Rory offered to help. She knew she would, especially when she ended up going to school without her, but it was another thing to hear it aloud.

She leaned forward to kiss her wife's cheek, a silent thank you. "It'll be fine. I just didn't think they'd need it all at once? I sort of figured I'd send it in week by week or something."

Then again, maybe this was better. If everything was there, ready to go, all at once, Maris could just focus on Keats and only have to deal with problems on the work front if and when they popped up.

It had been a while since Maris had ice cream outside the comfort of home and on such a warm day, it was melting faster than she anticipated, she quickly turned her ice cream to focus on another side before it started dripping down her hand, but a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach gave her pause.

The gurgling sensation was strange. She had taken to snacking throughout the day and had a granola bar before her appointment. Since she was currently eating, she knew she wasn't hungry enough for her stomach to be rumbling.

"That's..." she murmured out loud. Maris wondered if it was a baby thing, but thought better of telling Rory about what was probably just digestion. In her eagerness to know when she'd feel the baby move she'd done a bit of googling. Since she was on the thinner side, she saw that she might feel the baby move earlier but the fact that this was her first pregnancy was a bit of a strike against her. She'd probably have to wait a few more weeks but she would have been lying if she said she wasn't hoping Keats was....well, advanced.

It was never too early to make his moms proud, right? Maris was kind of already weirdly proud of him.

She sighed a little, leaning back against the bench. "Why do I have a feeling I won't like sitting at home doing nothing?"

She knew that would hardly be true after birth, but there would be a point, toward the end where it'd just be a waiting game. A long waiting game if everything she'd heard about first babies taking longer was anything to go by.

"Keats, you're going to make me write another book."

Rory was nothing if not a helpful person in general, but that was never more true than with her wife. If it was reading over a lesson plan or listening to pieces of a lecture, Rory was rapt with attention, willing to offer a gut reaction or praise. Usually both. It was kind of hard to give notes when looking at the person she thought hung the moon, to borrow the expression.

"I imagine they might run into some sort of legality if they ask you to still do work on maternity leave... but they don't know you as well as I do." Rory teased with a wink. Even though Maris would be very busy, she knew well enough that her wife wasn't one to just wash her hands of her work.

Rory was mid-lick of her own ice cream when her attention immediately went to Maris. But as soon as her concern was up, Maris was waving it away. She wasn't going to be a worry wart, but she did steal a glance at her wife here and there just to make sure nothing was amiss.

"My guess is you might be trying to get a nap in as much as possible." Rory smiled, bumping her shoulder into Maris' gently. But the idea that Maris might get to work on another book made her smile, too. She was so proud of Maris for what she had done with her first book, and knew her wife was, too.

"It'll be far more productive than I figure I'd be. I keep legitimately getting the urge to learn how to crochet? Or knit? Is that a nesting thing? I legitimately have no idea, but it's come to mind more than a few times."

"If that's a comment about how I nod off in the middle of reading now, I won't respond to it," Maris joked. She had never been a napper. If anything, she usually had trouble falling asleep, but Maris did it without warning these days. She didn't feel extra worn out because of the baby, but she could only assume she was.

She raised an eyebrow. She had never been a crafty or even creative sort (as far as her cello wasn't concerned anyway). The idea of Rory taking up a hobby, especially in preparation for the baby was kind of adorable.

"You gonna knit Keats some booties?" Maris teased, shifting carefully. It was difficult to make sure her cone didn't spill while attempting to keep her hand on her stomach just in case she felt another weird sensation. "Do you think there's a converse pattern?"

She smiled a little, softening her teasing. "I think that's sweet. Ramona used to embroider things whenever someone had a baby. Like a hanging with the baby's name on it. She made me a bunch of bibs and stuff too. I think my dad has them in a cedar chest somewhere. I remember some Noah's ark thing too. It was in my room when I was really small. A little picture of giraffe's and zebras in a boat she embroidered."

Rory giggled as she shook her head, not entirely meaning that ... but not not meaning it, either. Busted. She had to admit though, the way she'd find Maris sleeping with a book still in hand was a sweet little reminder of how much work she really was putting in, growing their child. More often than not, Rory would carefully slip a bookmark into her book and find a blanket if it was chilly in the room.

"I'm gonna knit him the cutest booties. And a hat!" She boasted, even if she really had no idea where to even start. Rory at least knew she was good with her hands. Obviously. She liked the idea of having some things she could make for their baby, even if it might be a little difficult to get started. "Oh my god. I bet they do. Don't even tease me." And just like that, the idea of converse booties was ingrained into her mind.

The mention of embroidery however felt even more doable. "Okay, I love the idea of embroidery though? I imagine there are some really easy stitches to start with... and then I'm not making anything." She had no idea what sizes babies were, even? Picking up a 0-3 month old onesie made her think how could anything be that tiny? "We should ask if we could see them. Maybe give some to Keats, if they're still in good condition?"

"When she finds out about Keats she'll want to make him some stuff of his own," Maris said, idly wondering if her father would tell her aunt she was expecting before she got a chance to. Her father was definitely the sort of person who minded their business and knew when to keep their mouth shut, but Maris didn't mind him sharing the happy news with her aunt Ramona.

As long as she got a head's up first. For someone without children of her own, Ramona adored babies. Even strangers' she spotted when going down the street. She was going to love being a great aunt, though, as vain as she was, she'd probably leave the great out of her new title.

"But yeah, sure. I'll call my dad and see what he's got stored away."

John had always been the sort of man who needed to declutter to think straight. Maris vividly remembered him asking her to round up books and toys she wasn't into anymore at least once every year to donate.

As an adult she realized her father wasn't being charitable so much as clearing his house because he, like herself, couldn't abide clutter, but she knew he had hung onto a fair bit of her baby stuff.

Maris was probably due a conversation with him. She'd avoided calling after their visit, feeling almost guilty about the snooping she'd done on her mom's side of the family since her cousin had reached out to her.

She was weirdly nervous to tell him somebody had.

She knocked shoulders with Rory playfully, biting into her ice cream cone. "Sure he's got some embarrassing bath tub pics or something for you."

A fond smile stretched across Rory's face at that idea. "I like that. Some things just for him." It went back to this idea that there would be such a large group of people who would love Keats, and whoever came after him a while from now. They'd have grandparents that loved them, aunts and uncles and great-ones, their friends back in the states, and ones they were slowly but surely cultivating here. She liked the idea that Keats would have some things made for him through that love of their extended family.

It made everything feel that much more real, bit by bit, the closer they got to time to meet him. It felt all the more real once they decided to tell people, and now knowing he was in there. It made her giddy to think about.

Rory thought to ask her own mother for some things, if she had them, too. Rory had a couple of blankets, one that was crocheted by her mom (hence her own idea) that was a bunch of pastel colors. She'd told Rory that she didn't know she was having a girl, but made it those colors because she had a feeling. 'But would have proudly wrapped a boy in it, too." Evelyn Berlanti was always a bit ahead of her time like that, and Rory loved her for it.

"Oooh, John is about to be my most favorite person." Rory wiggled her eyebrows and bit into her own ice cream, chuckling a little as she swallowed and slid her hand over her wife's knee. "I like being able to call him by his name, Keats." She smiled a little sheepishly, like it actually changed anything. But in a way it did, at least in that it gave them more of a picture of who they were expecting.