The campground is beautiful.

Kira, Gemma and Oscar howl with the abandon of youth as they run through the open fields, arms outstretched, silhouetted by the setting sun. Alison yells at them not to run. Sarah rolls her eyes as she unloads the cooler.

"Relax, Alison. It's an open space, yea? Let 'em run, 'specially Kira. She's always cooped up in the apartment." Alison lets out a long suffering sigh, but remains quiet as the children tackle each other in a mass of arms and legs.

You smile.

"Makes me wish I was a kid again," says Cosima, coming up behind you. "I'd like to have that kind of energy again."

You turn and smirk at her, leaning in close. "Your stamina levels seemed fine last night, chérie," you tease under your breath. Cosima rolls her eyes and shoves you.

"Not here, Delphine. Christ." You chuckle.

You help Alison set up the tent, and when you're finished you find Cosima crouched beside some plantlife.

"Poison sumac," she identifies the plants immediately, as if she's taking a pop quiz. "Super nasty stuff. It grows in shrubs like this." She reaches out a hand without thinking, and you snatch it from the air before it can make contact with the leaves.

"For a certifiable genius, you do very little thinking, you silly girl," you tell her gently, and kiss her fingers. You cannot help but adore her desire to learn about anything and everything – even if it clouds her judgment sometimes.

One hour into the excursion and the children are begging for s'mores. You watch with a certain fondness as Alison and Sarah interact with their children. Sarah holds Kira in her lap and laughs at the girl when she gets marshmallow all over her face. Alison runs a hand up and down her son's back; the other arm holds her daughter close.

Your heart gives a hollow throb, and you look at Cosima. Her eyes are misty, and you know she is thinking what you are thinking.

Later, when the two of you have snuggled into one sleeping bag and tangled your limbs together, you're still thinking about it. Cosima breathes deeply against you.

"Cosima?" you whisper. She grunts.

"What do you think… about having children… someday?"

Cosima inhales and adjusts her hold on your waist. "Mm. What do you think?"

You take a deep breath. "I think I… I like the idea. A lot."

Cosima presses her face against your collarbones. "Ditto. Obvs."

You dream of tiny hands in yours.