When Gemma first got the script for Professor Marston, this scene had been one of her favorites. It was so small in the grand scheme of things, but struck her as being one of the most meaningful. People might criticize certain artistic license that Angela in particular had taken with their film, but there were some irrefutable facts that they stuck very closely to. Elizabeth would name her daughter Olive Ann, after the woman she would spend the rest of her life with (after, perhaps, some bumps in the road). What struck Gemma even more was that this scene was one where Elizabeth was completely contented, without guile or trying to pass off her affection for Olive as a fascination or lust. This was pure and simple love between two women, in the purest of moments.

Gemma had been looking forward to it for weeks, but she'd be lying if she didn't admit today made her a little nervous. It wasn't the scene itself, no that she knew front to back, but rather the emotion it would invoke between the characters. Really since they started, and especially in the last couple of weeks, that roller coaster of emotion she'd been through had so much more to do with Veruca than it did passing off to Elizabeth and Olive. They could fight and gnash their teeth at each other, break hearts (mostly Elizabeth, on all those counts) - but the depth of feeling, that all came from a connection that was so genuine, it honestly scarred Gemma when she let herself really feel it.

Today, her getting-ready time took a little extra effort. She made a face as she was cinched into her fake belly, taking time to adjust it so it was a little more comfortable. While not the first time she'd worn one, it always made her feel a little ridiculous -- at least until she saw the finished product. After she put on her wardrobe and was properly done up in hair and makeup, she couldn't help but smile to herself at the belly that protruded from her. It was such instinct, wasn't it, to let her hands rest on the bump.

As she made her way to set, she laughed a little to herself as she sat down in her chair while they marked the scene and got the lighting ready. It was a bit more difficult to get into than usual, but eventually she sorted it all out. Her foot tapped as she looked at her phone, all just in anticipation of her scene partner's arrival.

Veruca had been looking forward to this scene too and not just because she wasn't the one wearing a fake belly (interesting, but more uncomfortable than she had been anticipating) this time around. After reading it for the first time, she was struck by how few times she had seen a pregnant woman and her female partner on screen before. She'd only seen it once or twice in modern media, let alone in something set in the Marston's era. And then there was just the pure, uncomplicated love conveyed in the scene. Was there anything more touching, a bigger honor than someone naming their child after you?

God, no wonder Olive cried. It rarely was, but Veruca knew it would hardly be a struggle to muster up the tears for this one. She often wondered if the last scene was the first time Elizabeth had ever told Olive she loved her. Mrs. Marston was hardly a sentimental sort and admitting you loved someone gave them a certain sort of power over you, something she was sure the other woman couldn't abide.

It made you vulnerable.

Veruca thought Olive always felt that way. On some level she was constantly on eggshells, unsure of when Elizabeth, prickly as she was, would push her away again because she always did.

It was a delicate balance. But in this moment, everything felt right. Permanent. Because what was more permanent than a name? A child and with it, the fact that their lives would be changed forever.

She liked today's costume, the brightly embroidered top fairly similar to one she had in her closet in New York. She was extra careful as she carried their drinks over in an effort not to ruin it.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Gemma in her chair. She looked...well, more than adorable. The sight of her with a bump filled her with a feeling she couldn't quite describe, the smile it elicited threatening to overtake her whole face.

"Well, I was gonna give you this but..." She made a show of pulling Gemma's coffee far away from her. "It's bad for the baby," she whispered.

The last time Gemma had worn a pregnant belly, it had been for an extended amount of scenes. That had been less than fun, but this was an easy scene. It was a good scene. It was one of the more quiet, domestic scenes that she wished they could luxuriate in even more. The things they were doing, and showing to whatever audience they'd get made her all the more proud to be a part of this film.

This was a period of bliss for the Marston family, growing their little unit to include their four children. It would last a while, until Elizabeth inevitably blew it up again out of her fear -- but Gemma wasn't thinking about that. This was, in her mind, a time when Elizabeth was fully engrossed in how happy she was. She wasn't hiding behind her intellect or pride. She was just happy, in love, with the man she married and the woman who was, effectively, just as much her spouse.

Of course, scenes like this one had a way of stoking memories and feelings from the past just as much as they did make you think about your own life and future. Gemma had been in a handful of very serious relationships, the last real one more serious than most, but even then, she hadn't necessarily felt like a scene like this one would have played out with her ex. Well for starters, the woman was adamantly against wanting anything to do with children, but also tended to be too high-strung to just sit and ... be.

Problematic as it was, Gemma could so easily see this situation playing out so similarly with the woman she was about to do the scene with - all apart from the script.

"No!" She said almost desperately, reaching both of her hands out for Veruca as soon as she was alerted to her presence. "Please, the baby will just be slightly stunted in growth with a hyper heartbeat. She'll be fine." Gemma laughed as she wiggled her fingers, like Veruca was holding a fix for a drug she was desperate for. Maybe not far off.

"Please, do not make our child have to suffer through the indignity of set coffee."

Veruca smirked, unable to hide her amusement over just how much her co-star liked (and apparently needed) coffee. "Knock yourself out," she said as she handed it over. "Sorry, little Olive. It was the 50's. Prenatal care wasn't that great anyway. "

Veruca took a moment to get settled in, juggling her chai and her bag before taking a seat next to Gemma. She'd slept through one of her alarms and hadn't managed to have breakfast that morning, so she eventually pulled some peanut butter granola bars out of her bag, wordlessly offering one to Gemma. "Is it heavy?" she asked, eyebrow raised after she'd taken her first bite. "The prosthetic. I'm assuming they used the same one on you as they did me. I know I'm a newbie when it comes to fake babies, but I didn't expect it to be so heavy."

Why was the idea that she and Gemma were probably wearing the same fake belly under their clothes so weirdly... appealing? It made her feel close to her in a way she couldn't quite describe. And sort of fitting for Olive and Elizabeth even though theirs were obviously real.

She'd become almost reliant on the start-of-day coffee from Veruca, but it really had begun to have less and less to do with the caffeinated drink than the woman that came with it. "She should just be grateful I'm not chainsmoking and drinking whiskey with every meal." She chuckled, eying the other woman as she took a first sip of her drink.

Gemma watched Veruca for a moment, her smile barely faded from her face as she took one of the bars from her, thanking her with a nod. "It is, I think. And yes. I'm going to need to go for a massage for my shoulders after this." There was an ease that Gemma was slowly starting to recognize with Veruca, something she hadn't anticipated, but that still snuck up on her at some point. It was unlike any friendship (or whatever) she'd had before, where it seemed as though they built a unique rhythm together, no matter what they did. Whether it was Veruca giving her coffee, or a granola bar, or Gemma handing her the same pen she'd been using just because she got it in a second when she might be looking for one. It gave her a kind of warm feeling she wasn't sure what to do with.

"Funny thing, isn't it?" She said, smoothing her hand over the brown sweater that covered the belly, as she leaned back to make it stick out a little more. "Clearly not really letting my maternal instincts," She continued, raising her drink for show. "But it does bring up those ideas."

"The scene does feel a little empty without a clove cigarette lying around," Veruca said, not entirely joking. She had grown used to (and fond of) the smell and was pretty sure she'd always associate it with the woman across from her.

"Yeah?" Veruca asked, a rhetorical question when her time pretending to be pregnant definitely had her thinking about it would feel like to really be a mother. "Do you want kids?" she asked before inwardly cringing. It was such a personal question, one even strangers thought they were entitled to ask women because they couldn't fathom one not wanting to experience motherhood.

As a lesbian, Veruca supposed she was asked about children less often than most and maybe Gemma's experience was the same but it still didn't give her the right to poke into her business. She liked to think...okay, she knew they were friends but there were still some things even friends didn't talk about.

No matter how deep their connection.

She ducked her head. "You don't have to answer that if you don't want," she mumbled, taking another quick bite of her granola bar in an effort to keep her mouth from running away from her any more than it already had.

"I'll light one up, just for you darling." Gemma laughed, wrinkling her nose a little at the idea. While she'd never exactly gotten used to the taste of them, they were indeed better than stoking an actual smoking habit into being. And she didn't have to smell of tobacco for the rest of the day - win/win, really.

Veruca's question caused Gemma to sincerely feel an atmospheric pause. While yes, that was often a question inappropriately asked by family members and strangers alike, it was also a topic that could (and had) make or break a relationship. Not that she and Veruca were in one, but still ... telling her what she'd always felt she wanted did indeed feel intimate. Then again, at this point, what didn't feel intimate between the two of them?

"You can ask me anything." She said so naturally it almost sounded casual - though it really was anything but. Gemma meant it. She couldn't fathom something Veruca might ask her that she wouldn't answer freely, willingly. She wanted to know Veruca as well as she wanted the woman to know her. God dammit, that wasn't exactly purely friendship-behavior, was it?

"My mum would like me to be having a whole brood by now." She started, her fingers tapping against her coffee cup. "But I've always felt I wanted one or two. I do have a desire to be a mother." She bumped her hand against her fake belly, as though that would take some of the sincerity off of it. "It's a deliberate decision for us, you know? Finding the right person, if a person at all to be a partner with in raising children. It's not as though I'd accidentally get knocked up at any point." She laughed, her gaze, as usual, naturally on Veruca. "Have you thought about it?"

Darling. It was another pet name Veruca was surprised she didn't seem to mind. It was simple, classic and more importantly, from Gemma, though she quickly reminded herself it was an endearment and nothing more. Nicknames were signs of affection and there was nothing wrong with affection between friends. Wanting there to be a certain sort of affection when there couldn't be well, that was a problem, which is why she did her best to put it all out of her mind.

Gemma's reassurance made her feel warm all over and not in the way she usually did. It was an honor, really to be given the sort of trust she'd been given. As well as confirmation that they really were as close as she thought. She leaned a bit closer as Gemma mentioned her mom, suddenly wondering about the other woman's family and not just because it was already vastly different from her own. Like Olive, Veruca had grown up without a mother and she couldn't help but wonder if that had spared her some nagging about grandchildren. While she'd certainly never felt unwanted, Veruca had always understood her father was more work than family oriented and that she probably wouldn't have had many (if any) siblings if her mother hadn't passed away. Children simply didn't seem like a huge priority to her dad and she supposed the same could be said about grandchildren. He'd certainly never asked about them or her personal life in general. He'd simply accepted her and her sexuality in stride, a non issue that didn't need to be talked about aside from a nervous confession she made at the kitchen table the summer she turned 19. She'd actually been a bit surprised at anticlimactic coming out had actually been, but was undeniably grateful for it. If there was anything Veruca hated, it was undue attention and fuss.

Was Gemma's mom nice? Stern? A meddler? Did she look anything like her or did she take after her dad? Did her personality mirror one parent or the other? These were the things Veruca found herself curious about and she wasn't sure her interest was exactly friendly.

She nodded a little. "I know what you mean. We have to be sure. It's not like we can get surprised then wing it. There are a few extra steps for us no matter which way we go about it so you have to put a lot of thought into it."

Veruca had been. Not a lot. Now was definitely not the right time for a family. She wasn't about to do anything to slow down her career now that it was finally picking up steam. She didn't have a steady partner or even the sort of space she wanted to raise a child in but...she did want one. Someday. She just....

"I like kids. They usually like me, but..." She sighed a little, running a hand through her hair. "I'm not sure how I'd be. If I could handle it or be any good at it which, I know, everyone says that and they say it's a good sign to be nervous but I've never really been around them that much? My family's really small, there were never babies and cousins running around. And my friends are all too busy with their careers or childless and queer so... I don't know. Kind of scared of being out of my depth someday but..." She smiled, sipping her drink. "Yeah, I'd like at least one," she said finally, firm in her conviction.

Perhaps it was kind of a dangerous thing, the way Gemma so readily noted (both aloud, and to herself) how much she enjoyed spending one on one time with Veruca. Sure, she had done with other co-stars before, and got on quite well with them to be sure, but none of them felt like this. In another world, another mindset (or one she was desperately trying to avoid), it could feel almost like some old-fashioned courting. Getting to know each other and deeper conversations as they went.

Gemma liked the idea of knowing more about Veruca, and more about what the woman wanted out of life. They could talk about acting and their industry until they were blue in the face, but at the end of the day, she wanted to know far beyond that. She wanted to hear all of her childhood stories, and she wanted to know about her family. She wanted to know what she wanted to be when she was six, or how that may have changed when she was twelve, or whenever she decided she had to be an actor. Had she broken any bones? Or her first heartbreak? All of these little stories that became the amalgamation of the woman sitting next to her. The desire to know her like that hit her so suddenly, so fully, that it nearly stole the breath from her lungs. How one innocent question could bring all that on -- well, the woman was a talent at throwing Gemma off guard.

All that wondering felt both alluring and frustrating at once. Which, was entirely on brand for their whole dynamic, wasn't it?

"Not until we learn to impregnate ourselves ... like ..." She made a face, trying to remember. "I want to say Hermit Crabs? No, that's not right, but I've successfully ruined my own joke, so." Gemma rolled her eyes, waving her hand in between them.

As Veruca explained herself, Gemma watched her -- which wasn't new. She always found it hard to look anywhere else when Veruca was speaking. She leaned forward a bit, propping her elbow on the arm of her chair and resting her chin in her palm. She remained quiet while she worked it all out, smiling when she concluded her decision. "I gather every parent thinks they are going to be absolute shit the first time. Hell, maybe even the third time. It's any miracle any of us make it to adulthood." She chuckled, ignoring, for the most part, the warmth that lingered as her mind so desperately wanted to wander down a path it should not go. "I've got a nephew and two nieces. They're lovely, and I do love being around them, but it is always nice to get to hand them back to their parents when there's a mess or a tantrum." She laughed, making a face. "But my own, that'd feel very different indeed."

"For what it's worth, I've seen how capable you are. I don't doubt you'd be amazing."

Veruca was struck quiet by Gemma's reassurance that she could handle motherhood some day. She wasn't sure what to say to something as touching (and sorely needed) as that kind of encouragement, so she simply smiled. "I think you'd be a pretty great mom too. I mean, at the very least you could build them a crib." Her lips twitched with the excitement of having an opportunity to bring back their old joke. "With your drill."

"That sounds fun," Veruca said almost wistfully. She often wished her close friends or family members had kids she could spoil, but Claire (the cousin/best friend who had sent her Wonder Woman poster) lived halfway across the country from her and since she was a good bit older than Veruca, her son, Ryan was more of a teenager than a kid. Not to say that Veruca and Daisy's son didn't have a bond of their own. Ryan was as excited to have an actress in the family as any kid his age would be and worshiped the ground Veruca walked on.

Veruca wasn't the sort of person who would do well in a large family. She was introverted. She liked time and space to herself. She liked quiet. But she supposed it was only natural to wonder what growing up differently would have been like and even long for that from time to time.

There was a reason she invented an imaginary sibling named Daisy (a near mirror image of her, but with brown hair so people could tell them apart) in pre-school. She'd always kind of wanted one.

And she'd always been kind of curious about other people's.

"You have siblings?"

Veruca's worries about prying had pretty much gone out the window at this point. And siblings were a slightly less intrusive topic than someone's reproductive plans.

With the amount of people out there who had kids who, honestly, probably shouldn't have, it could have been easy for Gemma to tell Veruca that of course she'd make a good mother if she so chose to be one. But Gemma wouldn't say anything of the sort if she didn't mean it. Then there was hearing the same sentiment returned to her from Veruca. Something about that just ... hit her somewhere she hadn't been expecting. She took a moment, only exhaling after she'd realized she'd been holding a breath. "Oh I'd build the best fucking crib." She laughed, making a face as though it were a sure thing.

Somehow talking about this with Veruca felt intimate in a way it might not at all with anyone else. She could talk about the abstract idea of kids or somedays, but with Veruca ... well it brought with it a whole different set of ideas. Ones she couldn't allow herself to dwell on for even a second longer than need be.

"They are. Little hellions too, but I adore them." She chuckled, and would have reached for her phone to be one of those obnoxious folks who shoved pictures in her face, but her hands were full so, not now. Gemma's family had always been close particularly when growing up, but now were spread out all over the place. She was often the one farthest away; depending on shooting locations or wherever her wanderlust might strike her to go. Some occasions however, were always meant to be shared with family. She hadn't missed a Christmas in a very long time, for example, or her parents' anniversary they still insisted on celebrating as a family.

"Mm, I do." She nodded, smiling as she said so. It hadn't occurred to Gemma that they hadn't really shared much family information with each other. There were always other things to talk about. She seemed to have known Veruca was an only child - had she mentioned it? Or had she read that somewhere? It was hard to tell these days, but she wanted to know more, too. "I have an older brother. He's still back in Manchester, and two younger sisters as well." She paused, a wicked smile coming across her face. "I'm definitely the odd artsy one of the family."

Gemma suddenly found herself wondering how they'd all get on, her siblings and Veruca. Her parents and Veruca. It was enough of a thought to make her almost blush wondering over. That was definitely odd territory. "I don't think I know much about your family either, come to think of it."

It probably came as no surprise that Veruca preferred the company of women, even in the platonic sense. When her younger self imagined a sibling, they were almost always female, but when Gemma mentioned her older brother, she couldn't help but smile. She'd heard plenty of stories of (sometimes infuriatingly) overprotective big brothers and wondered if Gemma's was the same (though she wasn't sure she could see the other woman letting anyone boss her around). Even Veruca could see a strange sort of appeal in that. Sometimes her relationship with Luke seemed to mirror that dynamic and she had a feeling she'd miss it (and his teasing) once they went their separate ways again.

She also found herself wondering how she and Gemma's family would get along. She'd pretty much instantly decided she'd like them because if they were anything like her co-star she was sure she would, but... would they like her? Some quiet American who wouldn't quite know how to deal with interacting with so many people at once?

It wasn't like she'd ever actually meet them.

But Veruca thought about it all the same.

"There's not much to tell," she said after a beat, a bit embarrassed that her own stories about family were bound to be a lot shorter. And a bit of a downer. "It's just me and my dad. My mom passed when I was little." The last sentence, while profound, sounded pretty matter of fact. Veruca longed for a mother even more than she had a sibling growing up, but it was more the idea of a mom than the one she'd lost. It was hard to miss someone you were too young to actually remember.

But once people heard you lost a parent, especially at a young age they looked at you with a sort of pity, if only for a moment. Veruca was used to that look. She'd had a whole lifetime of it and she didn't want to see it from Gemma, so she did what she'd learned to do. She stated the facts, waited a moment to give her mother and her loss the sort of respect they deserved, and moved on.

She wasn't totally without a maternal figure. Her paternal grandmother, Rose had filled that void quite well and shaped Veruca far more than her father ever had. If she took after anyone, it was her.

She was out of the picture now too, but Rose had lived a fairly long life and gotten to see the very beginning of Veruca's career. She'd never forget the pride on her grandmother's face when she saw her on her first movie poster.

"Well, it was me, my dad and my grandma so I was obviously meant to be a grandma." She offered her a lopsided smile. "My cousin's a bit like a sister, I guess. An older sister. We're a good bit apart so..." She laughed a little. "God, I'm suddenly sensing a pattern here."

Was it any wonder people always assumed Veruca was older than she actually was? She'd always been mature, almost alarmingly so as a kid. She'd functioned like a mini adult. Grandma was the next logical step. She just hoped she'd be a mother before she was really old enough to be one.

Perhaps it was a natural thing, even though it felt something very juvenile, to put the person you fancied, you wanted into situations that might mean a lot. Gemma was probably ten or eleven when she'd first started drawing hearts with initials in them, before she really knew what desire actually was. Holding hands, what a concept that had been. The novelty of it, or better yet the intimacy that simple thing could have only became more appreciated by Gemma the older she got. Silly as it was, she could imagine how it would feel in a moment just like this one, sharing histories and stories with Veruca, but doing so as their fingers comfortably fit together.

Perhaps Gemma had always been a bit of a romantic, underneath it all.

"I'm sorry." She said simply, without a lilt of that sing-songy way some people do apologize for past tragedies, like it would make them feel better just saying it. No matter how Veruca might feel about an absence of a mother growing up, Gemma wanted to acknowledge it, and with it, the way she'd said it. She wasn't going to pry or ask any follow up questions at all. She wanted to know what Veruca wanted to give.

Gemma listened with a smile, imagining what growing up must have been like for Veruca with her father and her grandmother. She chuckled a bit at the idea that she'd always been destined to be a grandma. "See, this is all making good sense to me. One day I'm going to come in and you'll be knitting with those tiny glasses on your nose." Which ... would be impossibly cute and shit. The more time she spent with Veruca, the more she knew about her, the more she realized just how far gone she was becoming. That wasn't something she was used to.

But also a problem for another day.

"Was your grandma a big fan of the older films as well? Or was that all your own soul finding those beautiful classics?"

"I do know how to knit," Veruca said somewhat sheepishly. She was pretty good with any kind of needle. She could sew, knit and crochet and all three skills had been taught to her by Rose. Being able to knit friends and family scarves had saved her one Christmas when money was too tight for her to do much else (a problem she, thankfully, hadn't had in years). It was usually a point of pride and it still was but for all her joking, Veruca didn't want Gemma to see her as a some boring, frumpy grandma.

She wanted her to think she was interesting, exciting. Okay, she wanted her to think she was sexy, too.

She nodded. "But we really didn't end up liking the same ones. She was more into musicals. I like them too, I mean, Julie Andrews might be my favorite person on the planet. She reminds me a little of my grandma, actually. They're sort of similar. That effortlessly regal quality, you know? And, I mean, who doesn't love Liza and Judy, but I really can't sing so I never got intensely into all of that. Give me Norma Shearer or Lauren Bacall any day of the week."

She finished up her granola bar, tossing the wrapper into her bag to be dealt with later. "What about you? How did you get hooked on movies? I mean, we all are in this line of work, right?"

"Of course you do." Gemma said through a grin, utterly fascinated by the skill. She probably should have learned, particularly with how much down time there was on any given film set. She probably could have knit her whole family a bunch of things by now if she'd learned to do it. "My grandmother taught me when I was small, but I completely forgot how to do it about five minutes later. I was too interested in other things." Gemma laughed, shaking her head.

Knitting, and activities like it, probably helped in the area of just slowing things down - something that Gemma needed to think about sometimes. Funny, because nothing she felt towards Veruca could exactly be described as 'slow'.

"God, Julie Andrews." Gemma sighed dramatically, clutching her heart with one hand. "What a dream that must have been. She sounds like an incredible lady. I see where you get it." It might have been a little presumptuous to say so, but she meant it. Everything she learned about Veruca just served to draw her in more and more. "You make me want to spend a whole weekend watching the old ones. Bacall was unreal. We should do that some weekend, pick some good old ones." Again, just inviting herself into spending more and more time with Veruca? Sure.

"Oh we have to be. I don't think you can be an effective actor if you just ... don't like films." She laughed, leaning back as she took a last bite of her own granola bar as well. "My mum definitely instilled a love of movies, but then my brother and father loved the action films, so I guess it really was a family affair. It was a big event growing up, going to the cinema, or having movie nights at home. I just became obsessed with wanting to be in them once I got the bug in theatre."

"It probably wouldn't be hard to pick up again. I used to bring my yarn and needles with me on set when I first started out, but its not the best hobby for multitasking. After a while your wrists start hurting and who needs more things to worry about during a scene?"

The idea of an old school movie marathon brought a smile to Veruca's face. She'd tried to have one with Haley on numerous occasions, carefully choosing films and actresses she thought she might like. Since she was so fond of old Hollywood (and older things in general), Veruca's tastes were probably a bit more varied than everyone else's. She'd discovered hidden gems in the film and talent department alike. She thought her girlfriend would be happy to learn about them too but Haley had been painfully bored. She'd gone for things that were a bit more mainstream on her second attempt, even sitting through Breakfast at Tiffany's (overrated, racist drivel) even though she'd never been able to stomach anything the (in her opinion) lesser Hepburn had done besides The Children's Hour in an effort to find something her girlfriend liked.

All Haley ended up commenting on was the clothes.

She liked movies too, of course. Veruca knew she was right in her earlier assumption. Everyone did. Even people outside of show business but those who were in...well, they loved them a little more than everyone else.

Veruca and Haley just didn't seem to love the same ones.

Which was fine, really. A relationship where both parties liked the exact same things was bound to be boring, but Veruca often found herself wondering if she and her girlfriend agreed on anything.

A little common ground that they could carve out as theirs certainly would have made things easier sometimes.

Her smile returned when her co-star mentioned being bitten by the acting bug, her experience had been very much the same, though it had been a definite learning curve. A child as shy and occasionally awkward as Veruca had been was bound to have a little trouble getting comfortable in front of an audience, but her stage fright had been nearly debilitating. But a little bit of that fear went away every time and once it faded away completely, the stage was one of the few places she felt invincible.

She wondered if Gemma had started out scared too, or if she really had taken it like a fish to water, instantly competent and fearless. She wanted to know what her first play had been and if she had gotten the role she wanted (memories of sobbing in her grandmother's car because she had to play a tree rather than Wendy Darling would always be in the back of Veruca's mind).

But it was time to stop talking about movies and start making one. Angela appeared to give notes and Veruca sat up a bit straighter to hear them. It was a simple scene on paper. Neither party had very many lines but the subtext...god, the subtext was everything, wasn't it?

Not that she and Gemma had ever really had a problem with that.

"You need help up?" she asked, offering her hand with a bit of a laugh as she rose from her chair.

"Then you could just be that lady with wrist braces on while you furiously knit an entire onesie." She chuckled, winking at the other woman.

It occurred to Gemma just then, how much she liked making plans with Veruca. One of the main factors their being their follow-through. It was so easy to get into the habit of agreeing to things without really having any plans of doing the thing in the end. 'Yes, absolutely we should get lunch sometime.' became as non-committal as just saying no outright. Gemma and Veruca at least seemed to be on the same page with enjoying one anothers' company, and it seemed as though they'd been able to get over (somewhat) the awkwardness that their kiss and the subsequent visitor had laid over their relationship. Gemma was willing to let that all go on the surface, because she genuinely enjoyed just spending time with Veruca. It didn't have to become a thing that everything else roiled just beneath the surface. That was her burden to bear, not to put on Veruca.

Which in part, was why Gemma hadn't asked about her relationship at all. Beyond that first night they spent together (which, yes, sounded odd when put in such a way), Gemma didn't want to pry. Part of it was not wanting to seem as though she were pushing for any particular vibe or answer, but the other part of it was definitely self preservation.

Soon enough, or rather, too soon it seemed, it was time to go. Gemma usually was anxious to get going with a scene, but found that when she was off in the figurative "wings" with Veruca, she didn't mind the long stretches of time between set-ups and lighting changes. In fact, she looked forward to them.

"I... yes." She laughed suddenly, realizing she'd gotten herself in a bit of a position that was difficult to get out of. She reached for Veruca's hand, squeezing it as she pulled herself up with some assistance. "Such a kind wife you are." She said with a cheeky grin, dropping her hand a moment later. Some romantic-part of her mind noted a certain buzz in her skin from touching her hand.

Gemma listened to Angela's notes as they walked into the scene, pausing in her stride once hair and makeup descended to do some final touch-ups. Her hand kept gravitating to her stomach, absentmindedly doing so that she'd just blame on getting into character. "I'm changing one seat for another, you might have to wedge me out of this one." She said with a laugh as she situated herself on the couch, a much lower (and more comfortable) seat than the one she'd just been in.

"I got you," Veruca said with a bit of a wink, but the sentiment was earnest. She was beginning to realize there was very little she wouldn't do for Gemma, professionally or otherwise. Save maybe giving in again.

She wasn't stupid or in denial enough to believe this wasn't something. She even knew it was something more than what she already had, the sort of risk worth taking but when there were just so many risks, so many things standing in their way, how could she? Besides, they'd made plans. And Veruca may have made a great deal of them out of fear that she wouldn't have any other excuses to share her company again, but she intended to keep them.

She couldn't be with Gemma the way she wanted, but she could be with her. She just needed time to figure things out. After her busiest year yet with more projects than she knew what to do with (and one she actually had to walk away from to help accommodate the rest) she was finally getting some time to stop, breathe and wind down once Marston was all over. She'd give things with Haley a proper shot and if it fizzled well, it fizzled.

She wouldn't do anyone any good with this sort of juggling act. It probably would have been easier to just push her feelings for Gemma away, but they were so intense, different than anything she'd ever felt that she didn't want to. She let herself enjoy them and every bit of excruciating torture and guilt.

It was surprisingly easy not to worry about the real world here, the life and woman she had waiting for her so she didn't. She'd come back down to reality when she needed to.

When the cameras started rolling, Veruca let herself look at Gemma for a long time, allowing herself to believe that she wasn't just some actress or even a friend that she fancied.

She was her wife.

And she was carrying their child.

She didn't break eye contact, still not speaking even as she reached out to tentatively lay a hand on her stomach. She let herself believe a few more things. There was something in there. Something living, breathing, a child she had helped create in her own way because she had sure as hell been there when it happened. She thought about how much Olive loved children, how she would look after this one the same way she had all the others before it, treating it no different than the ones that were biologically her own because they all were. When it was all said and done she'd have someone else calling her mom and she'd be just as nervous as Bill when he was banished to the waiting room.

Then, after a moment, she allowed her fingers to flex, allowing herself to believe there was movement underneath them (a sensation she'd only experienced once in real life when her pregnant cousin had come to visit, but had never really forgotten).

"I think it's a girl," she said softly because she was a little unsure of her prediction, but also because she didn't want to disturb whoever was in there.

Was it wishful thinking on Olive's part? They did already have three boys between them. A little girl would certainly be a welcome addition to even out the gender scales (and girls were supposed to be less trouble) but maybe she did know.She spent more time around the children (and their friends) than the rest of them. Olive certainly kept a close enough eye on Elizabeth to notice any number of little things, a new dress, how she'd furrow her brow when she was tired or annoyed, days when she changed the style of her hair. Maybe she was carrying differently this time around. Or maybe they were so in sync that she just knew in a way even their husband couldn't.

Such a simple, even flippant sentiment, but Gemma knew what Veruca said was true in more ways than one. She'd had excellent scene partners throughout her career - also some not-so-great ones, but none of them seemed to connect on the same level she did with Veruca. The trust she had with the other woman was almost enough to scare her away from it -- just from how sure she was. No matter what her choice for whatever line, emotion, whatever might be, she knew that she just had to look across to Veruca and know that there was a safety net there in their performance.

That kind of reliance on someone, even just in scenes, was as terrifying as it was calming. Probably, mostly, because Gemma knew the way it made her feel went far beyond a scene or a film.

But a homewrecker, she was not, no matter her opinions of Haley in the short time she'd spent in her presence, or even what Veruca had told her about the woman. You could tell someone they deserved the world, but particularly if she were the one who wanted to show her that -- it would ring false, pushy, all things Gemma was not.

Better then, to focus on the home of Elizabeth and Olive, and the one they'd built with William. Three boys between them, and handling their relationship like it was the most natural thing. God, it'd make her even more of a bitch when she made Olive leave in a few years time. But that was a scene for another day.

Today was just about them. And what would become the trio of women that made up the feminine in the Marston family. She loved the way Angela let them go into this scene, so unlike the barking of 'action', but rather a "when you're ready." It spoke to her wanting to capture the purity of their moments, and Gemma loved that all the more.

Gemma watched Veruca as she sat next to her on the couch, her adoring gaze wasn't hard to fake at all. Usually, holding such eye contact for so long could make someone uncomfortable - as human beings they were designed that way - but it felt natural, even normal in this moment. She imagined so easily that she was about to be a mother, that for the second time, she'd be welcoming a child with her husband, and her wife. The loves of her life, quite honestly.

"Really?" She said quietly, a slow smile crossing her face as she said it. Gemma felt goosebumps on her arms, but didn't know why or bother to dwell on that. She slid her hand over Veruca's on her stomach, feeling her warm skin as she tilted her head to the side. "Well, if it is... I shall name her Olive Ann." Gemma wasn't necessarily supposed to get emotional in this scene, but as she grinned at the other woman, she felt her throat go tight with emotion.

For the millionth time, Veruca found herself wondering if Elizabeth had ever told Olive she loved her before it was too almost late. It was probably something she should discuss with Gemma to sort out their history and understanding of their two characters to make sure it was something that they agreed upon, but in that moment she operated on her gut instinct as far as their dynamic was concerned.

Elizabeth hadn't.

And as much as Olive loved her and assumed Elizabeth loved her too, wasn't there something...comforting about that sort of verbal confirmation? At some point, didn't you need to hear it so badly the lack of it caused a barely detectable ache?

Which is why her announcement hit Olive that much harder. How could she ever doubt how deeply she cared when she was going to name her child after her? Happy tears were usually harder to conjure up than sad ones. Most people had more bad experiences to draw upon than good ones and the memories attached to them were usually much stronger. But Veruca was so in tune with everything: the scene, Gemma and Olive that she didn't need to draw on anything but that moment, a little huff of breath leaving her lungs, a heady mix of shock and overwhelming emotion before the tears came.

Love language, Gemma had learned, was definitely a real thing. Some people showed their love verbally, others physically, some in giving gifts -- all means of affirmation in different ways. Something that had fascinated Gemma about Elizabeth was how in-control she needed to be at any given moment. Yes, Gemma had similar tendencies, but not all the time. She had grown to learn the give and take, but Elizabeth was a different creature altogether. Her confession to William, at this point in the film years ago, "Maybe I'm in love with her too." Had been the most non-committal nonsense. It fit with who she was, however. She was not soft and warm, not gentle or even kind most of the time.

But this moment was all the more special because of it. The vulnerability that it took for Elizabeth to have this unabashed moment with Olive was something that struck Gemma when she'd read it, and struck her all over again now.

"Don't cry," She laughed, reaching other other hand to delicately touch to the side of her face. Tears were in her own eyes, but she was smiling all the while. If the big belly wasn't in her way, she'd probably lean over and kiss her. That urge was always there of course, but this felt like Elizabeth here, too.

Gemma ran her thumb over Veruca's cheek, her smile natural and big. This moment meant a hell of a lot to her, to them even. And she'd make good on her promise, too. It took her a moment or two to drop her hand from Veruca's face, her other still covering her hand on her belly even after Angela called cut.