Disclaimer: I do not own Blindspot or any of its characters used in this story. What is written here is for entertainment purposes only. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this story.

"My name is Special Agent Jane Weller, I'm here to ask you a few questions."

No matter how many times Jane says it, she can't quite yet get used to her married name - and she's been married for about three months now, three glorious months.

The woman she's currently questioning is a barrista who reported having seen Roman in her apartment building two days ago. Kurt had assigned the case to Jane, against Tasha's advice.

Jane knows Tasha's arguments against her taking the lead on the case. But despite not being able to treat Roman with a level head, Jane can't have anyone else going after her brother. He's her responsibility; it's got to be her. She's got to take care of him, make things right because if she doesn't... She tightens her fist at the thought of what failure could mean for her, for Kurt.

The barrista talks about the time she saw Roman. Halfway through Jane finds herself zoning out on the details, staring instead at the crib in the corner of the room, at the walker, at the toys scattered on the floor.

"Ma'am?" Asks the barrista, snapping Jane back to attention.

"Yes, sorry, you were saying?"

The talk with the barrista doesn't lead to anything of substance. Jane thanks the woman and leaves, disappointed and annoyed at herself for not giving the case her full attention.

If she goes on at this rate, Kurt is definitely going to transfer the case to Tasha's hands. Determined not to see that happen, Jane takes her mind off her worries and drives back to the NYO.

Jane enters Kurt's office and puts her report on the interview on his desk. She slumps on the chair across his table.

Kurt raises a brow at her. "I'm guessing there wasn't any new intel."

"Nope. The guy she saw was just another hipster whose only connection with Roman is his beard." Jane sighs.

Kurt reaches out and takes his wife's hand. "We'll find him. Maybe not today, but some day."

Jane gives him a thankful smile.

A knock on Kurt's door causes them both to pull their hands apart.

Director Hirst walks in, a kind smile on her face.

"Nice to have you back from sabbatical, ma'am," says Kurt, rising from his chair and rounding the table to shake Hirst's hand.

"Good to be back, Asst. Director Weller." Hirst turns to Jane who had also risen. "I hear congratulations are in order, Jane, Kurt."

Jane blushes while Kurt straightens up in pride.

"Yes," Jane chuckles shyly, "it was just a small ceremony with some friends and family a few months ago."

"Lovely. Any small Wellers I need to prepare for?"

Jane blanches at the question and it's a palpable ten seconds before Kurt jumps in to answer it. He moves closer to Jane, placing a hand on her waist, as he says, "uh, no. We're probably going to wait a year. You know, enjoy this time between the two of us."

Hurst nods her understanding. "Good. Because I don't think I can afford having my two best agents out on parental leave at the same time."

Then she inquires as to another investigation. Afterwards, she pats them both on their arms and takes her leave.

With the two of them alone once more, Kurt turns to Jane and asks teasingly, "Mind telling me what that was about? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were scared of having children."

Jane doesn't answer and Kurt worries that he didn't hit far from the truth.

"Jane?" Kurt places a hand on her waist. "If you don't want kids, I'm perfectly okay with that. I mean, Ava is more than enough for me to fulfill fatherhood."

Jane shakes her head quickly. It wouldn't do to have Kurt thinking she didn't want children. "No, no. I do want kids but I..." She sighs, deciding that this was the perfect time to disclose her fears. "I have to tell you something." She swallows hard. "I'm pregnant. Or... I think I am."

Kurt's breath hitches. "You're... Pregnant?"

"Maybe? I don't know. It's just that my period's late and I'm more tired than usual. It could be nothing."

"Or it could be you're pregnant."

"Yeah. It could be that."

Kurt's joyful bark of laughter surprises Jane. "You're pregnant!" He kisses Jane square on the lips, forgetting his previous statement of wanting to wait a year for kids. "You're pregnant!" He stops mid-laughter and looks at Jane. "You're not happy."

Jane's eyes widen. "No. You got it wrong! I'm..." She shuts her eyes. No, she isn't happy. But she wants to be. Opening them again, she admits the line of thought that's been distracting her the whole day. "Kurt, I'm not mother material. My own mother was-"

Kurt's hand moves to cup her cheek and he speaks with a conviction that makes Jane's doubts melt away.

"None of that now," he says, "Shepherd wasn't a mother to you. Taking you in and manipulating you, that's not what a mother does."

"It doesn't matter!" cries Jane, her eyes welling with unshed tears. How can I be a mother when I can't even take care of my own younger brother? I manipulated him too, Kurt. I couldn't protect him! I lied to him, lost him. What I did was horrible! What if-"

"What if you turn out to be just like Shepherd? Terrible, negligent, and the list of synonyms goes on and on." Kurt gives a small smile. "I've been where you are, Jane. You're not the only one who had an awful parent."

Jane breathes in a huge gulp of air and her eyes sting at finally releasing the choked back tears. Kurt draws her in for a hug.

"Your drive, your commitment to your brother," he whispers in her ear, "your desire to be good, to do better, is why I'm certain you'll be nothing like Shepherd. You'll be a fantastic mother, Jane."

Jane scoffs a laugh.

"I'm serious! Our child, if there is a child, won't want for anything. Not love, not affection, and certainly not spoiling aunts and uncles." Kurt kisses the side of Jane's head. "We'll deal with this together, okay?"

Jane nods, too overwhelmed to say anything for the moment. She just hopes that when the time comes she can count Roman along the list of overindulgent uncles.

Some day.

A/N: tell me what you think.