"Well, that was fun," I say, closing the door after seeing Susan out.

"You only think so because you won," Carter says.

"Won? I mopped the floor with you two."

"Yes, Abby, your Uno skills are completely unrivaled. You should be proud."

"Oh, I am."

"Next time it is definitely going to be Scrabble."

"So you can try to impress me with your big vocabulary?" I ask, taking his hands and leading him over to the couch.

"That wasn't exactly how I was hoping to impress you," he says as he sits down. I'm standing in front him, his hands in mine, and before I can sit down he leans forward to kiss the belly which just happens to be at the perfect height. "So c'mon … show me your stuff."

I can't help but laugh at that. "You could at least buy me dinner first," I say, resurrecting one of his old jokes.

He shakes his head, but chuckles at me. "Abby. That's not what I meant, you know that."

"So you don't want me to show you my … stuff?" I ask in an accusatory tone, pretending to be offended.

"Is this a trick question?" He looks around, seeming somewhat bewildered, probably thinking that he's a victim of my current state of heightened sensitivity.

"Just answer the question." I drop his hands in favor of putting my hands on my hips and giving him a look.

"Uh, well, what I meant was …" he starts slowly, in a careful tone of voice, "I'd love to see the stuff you got for the baby now … maybe you can show me your stuff later." I just look at him. "Maybe? If I'm good?"

"I thought you were always good," I say, giving him a sly smile.

"Well … wait … so you're not really mad?" He looks up at me in surprise as light dawns. I shake my head, and lean down to kiss the tip of his nose. "So … did I just get punk'd?" He asks, watching me move across the room to retrieve the bag of baby clothes.

"I think that requires something slightly more elaborate. And you really need to stop watching so much MTV. That's what you did all night while I was slaving away at work, huh? Just sat around watching MTV?"

"Well, not just MTV. Nick at Nite, too." I give him raised eyebrows on that one, as I sit down next to him. "Hey, all those family shows are on. I figured it would be a good way to pick up some parenting pointers."

"If you think television is the place to learn your parenting skills, this kid is in more trouble than I thought."

"What do you mean? Full House was on and that Uncle Jesse is just full of great advice. Plus, he has great hair."

"Okay, this conversation has just gone from weird to truly terrifying."

"Just show me what you've got," he says, gesturing toward the bag at my feet.

"Didn't we just go through this … I'm not gonna just show you my stuff."

"The baby stuff," he says dryly.

"Ohh … the baby stuff. Right."

He's chuckling at me and doing that slight headshake that shows his bemusement. "You think you're so cute."

"I am so cute," I inform him. "And so is this stuff. You know, Susan dragged me kicking and screaming into the baby department."

"Kicking and screaming? I kinda wish I'd been there to see that."

"But anyway, it turns out she was right … these little clothes are so adorable. There's no way you can be bummed out when you are surrounded by all this tiny, pink stuff," I say, pulling out the bunny sleeper that Susan picked out. "I mean, look at this. How cute is this? Auntie Susan picked it out, didn't she?" I coo, bending my head to talk to the baby.

"It's very cute." But there's a seriousness in his voice that makes me look up at him.

"What?" I thought he was all excited to see my purchases, but now his mood seems to have undergone a shift.

"What were you bummed out about?"

"What?"

"You said that Susan was right, you can't be bummed out in the baby department."

"I said that?"

"Yeah, you did. Wanna talk about it?" He asks, picking up my hand and playing idly with my fingers.

I shrug. "It was nothing. Just … jitters, I guess."

"Jitters? Abby, you're gonna be great, you know that right?"

I shrug again. "I know you believe that, but I'm not so sure."

"Abby, we've been over this. Of course it's scary, but you're gonna be an amazing mom. You really are. Everyone gets scared. But then the baby gets here, and you just take it one day at a time. And everything turns out fine."

"But what if it doesn't turn out fine?" I look at him through the tears in my eyes, knowing in my head that he's probably right, but worrying in my heart that he isn't.

"Come here," he says, pulling me onto his lap. I lay my head on his shoulder, and he smoothes my hair back from my face. "Tell me what you're scared of."

"That I'm gonna mess her up."

"Well … that's pretty broad."

"My mom chased me around the house with a butcher knife and disappeared in the middle of the night on a regular basis." It sounds like a non sequitur, but my mother's behavior as I was growing up definitely weighs heavily on my mind.

"And you're worried that you might repeat Maggie's mistakes?"

"Well, no. Not exactly. I mean, I don't really worry that I'll threaten the baby with cutlery, but … you know, what do I know about being a mother?"

"Well, what do I know about being a father? My mom and dad weren't exactly stellar examples of great parenting."

"Yeah," I agree, running my hand over his chest, "But at least you had your grandparents. And someone did something right … look how well you turned out."

"Well, you didn't turn out so badly yourself. And since you practically raised yourself … and your brother … well, I think you know more about being a mom than you realize."

I sigh, nuzzling my head up against his neck. "There's just so much that could go wrong."

"Yeah. And something … someday … will go wrong. And when that happens … we'll deal with it. Together. There's no point in worrying about it now, though, because there's no way we can anticipate what problems are gonna crop up."

"I just wish there was some way that I could feel prepared."

"Oh, Abby … every first time parent feels that way. I know that your concerns go a little deeper than the average first time mother's … but every expectant parent feels this way. Really. It's perfectly normal."

"I know, but …"

"It'll get easier once she's here. We'll be too damn busy to worry all the time."

"Susan says that if I work hard enough at it, I can be a good mother."

"Well, listen to Susan. She's smart."

"She says she felt the same way that I do. And then her niece came along, and she found out the hard way that she could do it."

"See? It'll be the same way with you. Once she's born …"

"I wish she was already born."

"Getting tired of being pregnant?"

"No. It's just that everyone keeps saying how much easier it'll be once she's here. And I'm … you know, anxious to see her."

"Me too."

"Although, I do like being pregnant. So far. At least once I got past the whole morning sickness thing."

"What's it feel like?"

"What? Morning sickness?"

"No," he says with a laugh. "Being pregnant."

"Being pregnant?" I ask, not knowing quite how to explain it.

"Yeah."

"I don't know. It's … good. Weird. There's a little person floating around in there. Inside of me. It's bizarre. But pretty cool. Kinda scary since, you know, my body is completely out of control. It's just growing in all sorts of crazy ways. It's a little disconcerting. Like being in puberty all over again … only everything's happening a lot faster. But it's good, being pregnant. Knowing I'm growing a baby."

"Our baby."

"Yeah."

"You're lucky -- you get to be the one to feel our baby kicking around inside of you."

"Yeah, now that's pretty neat. Strange. Different. But I like it. And I'm already so used to it that it'll be hard to get used to not feeling it anymore after she's born."

"I wish I could feel it, too."

"Sorry," I tell him. "But this is the best I can do." I take his hand and move it to my belly.

"Wow, she's really kicking up a storm in there, isn't she?"

"Of course she is. Her daddy's close by. I told you, she hears your voice, and she goes crazy."

"She can't really recognize my voice, can she?"

I shrug, and smile up at him. "Well, she doesn't do somersaults for anyone else."

"Somersaults, huh?" He pushes my shirt up, exposing my belly so that his hand can roam over my bare flesh. "Oh, that was a good one," he says, feeling a big kick.

"She's glad you're here." I tell him, reaching up to slide a hand along his cheek. "And so is her mommy."

"I love it when you talk like that," he tells me, shifting me on his lap so that I'm no longer leaning against his chest. I wonder why he's essentially pushing me away, forcing me into a semi-reclining position across his lap, until he drops his head down to my belly, planting a kiss on my bare skin.

"When I talk like what? When I say how much we miss you?"

"When you call yourself 'Mommy.' I like that 'we' stuff, too. Makes it all seem so much more real."

"This doesn't seem real to you?" I ask, massaging my bulge, and feeling the kicks from the baby inside. "I don't know how it could possibly get any more real."

"Mmm … well, she could be here." He nuzzles his head against my skin, finally laying his cheek gently to rest on my stomach. He sighs happily, closing his eyes as a smile spreads across his face. He's already completely head-over-heels for his little girl.

"You know, I would gladly leave you two alone … only I can't," I tell him.

He opens his eyes and looks at me appraisingly for a moment. Then he turns his head so that he's gazing at the belly again. "Aww, I think Mommy's feeling a bit jealous. Or maybe just a little neglected."

"Not really," I say, putting my hand on his head and running my fingers through his hair. "I don't care if you spend all night cooing at the baby. I'm just glad you're here."

"Me too. I'm really glad I came home."

Home. That's the second time today he's said that. I lean my head down so I can look him in the eye. He notices me leaning over and looks up, meeting my gaze. "You did it again."

"Did what again?" he asks, straightening up.

"Called this place -- my crappy little apartment … home. Do you really think of this as home?" I wrap my arms loosely around his neck and study him intently.

"Abby … anywhere that you are is home to me."

"Really?"

"Well, home is where the heart is, right? And you have my heart, so I guess you'll always be home to me. Besides, home is supposed to be a place where you feel safe … and comfortable."

"So now I'm safe and comfortable?" I ask.

"It's not a bad thing."

"I don't know. Sounds a lot like 'boring' to me."

"Absolutely not. God, Abby. You could never be boring. You're my tornado. You know I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Well, good. But only if you mean it. Otherwise, we'll just have to find away to spice things up a bit."

"Spice things up?" he asks with interest. "Well …"

"So you do think I'm boring."

"Abby … no. I don't. But who would ever turn down making things a bit more spicy? Especially considering that you'd be the one coming up with the spice." He brings his face toward mine, capturing my lips in a soft, but sensuous, kiss. "There's no one in the world more ingenious and … imaginative than you. Or more amazing."

"Whatever," I say lightly, with a little chuckle, figuring he's just doing a little random ass-kissing to make sure things go smoothly this evening.

"You are amazing, Abby. I wish you could see it. It's why I have no doubts that you're gonna be a great mom. You're smart." He plants a little kiss on my lips. "You're funny." He kisses my cheek. "You're sweet. And caring. And nurturing." Each attribute that he lists is punctuated with a kiss to my neck. "You are exactly who I always wanted … who I was always looking for … to be my children's mother."

I know that in addition to trying to reassure me and ease my doubts, he means every word he says. His sentimental streak is showing through. Not being quite so comfortable with the sentimentalism, of course I find a way to turn it into a joke. "I think someone is trying to make sure he's gonna get lucky tonight."

"No, not at all."

"Not at all? Are you saying you don't want to get lucky tonight?

"Of course not."

"Of course not? Are you ill?"

"No, I meant, of course I'm not saying that I don't want to get lucky."

"So you do?" I ask, just to clarify.

"Of course. I just didn't think that it was ever really in question."

"Well, that's good to know."

"Why? Were you worried?"

"Yeah. After all, I was hoping to get lucky tonight. And I always worry that one of these days … well, you know …"

"What?" He seems genuinely confused.

I look down at my round belly where one of his hands still rests. "I'm getting bigger all the time. How do I know that one of these days I'm not gonna just start disgusting you?"

"That could never happen Abby. You're beautiful pregnant. You know that, right? I mean, you're having my baby and that's a beautiful thing. But aside from that, you're just darn cute all round and curvy. And no matter how big and round you get, that's not gonna change the way I feel about you. It's certainly not gonna make me want you any less."

"Sure, you say that now …"

"I'll be saying it then, too."

"Unless I get boring on you," I say with a grin to let him know I'm joking.

"That could never happen."

"Well, it could. But we won't let it. We'll just have to find a way to keep things interesting." I lean forward and capture his lips, slipping my tongue into his eagerly waiting mouth. "I guess I might be forced to show you my wild side," I say when we break out of the lip-lock.

"You mean I haven't already seen it?"

"Not even close."

"Okay, I'm a little scared now."

"You should be," I say as I attack his neck, kissing, nibbling and sucking at his flesh.

"So Abby," he starts in a conversation tone, "did you want to show me the stuff you got for the baby?"

"Later," I mumble. I'm a little distracted at the moment. I'd say I'm about halfway to giving him a really nice hickey. I'd be a little worried that maybe he's really not interested in me anymore, what with him bringing up baby clothes at a time like this, but the way he's enthusiastically massaging my butt suggests that he has at least some fleeting interest.

"How about a snack?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Not now." What's wrong with him?

"Boy, you must really want me bad." Oh, so he was just teasing me.

"What makes you say that?" I ask in a fake indignant tone of voice as I pull myself away from him, settling a little further back on his legs so that I can give him a look.

"Well, aside from the fact that you never turn down food these days --"

"I can't help that. It's all your daughter's fault."

"Well, it's not just that."

"What else?"

"Hmm … well, I would say the fact that you've managed to unbuttoned your own shirt while nibbling on my ear was a bit of a clue."

"Oh …" I look down. Huh. My shirt is unbuttoned. Now how did that happen? As I'm looking down at my exposed body, Carter's hands manage to find their way back to my stomach. He lovingly caresses the bump, staring intently at it, not seeming to notice anything else. My God, I've lost him already. I slip a finger under his chin, forcing him to tear himself away from my belly. He brings his eyes up to meet mine. "Is she all you can think about … Daddy?"

"Sorry," he says, giving me a sheepish smile. His gaze slips away from my face and travels downward, coming to rest on my swollen breasts barely contained in the lacy bra I'm wearing. One of his hands travels up from my abdomen to the plastic fastener in between the white lace cups. "This opens in the front, huh? Nice."

He deftly pops open the clasp with one hand, freeing me from my constraints. Well, good. Now I have his attention. Or at least my boobs do. Not that I can really blame him since they are pretty much right in his face now. He pushes the lacy material off to the sides, replacing it with his own hands. I lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss once again. Our tongues tangle for a moment before he acquiesces and lets me have my way.

"Abby …" He's somewhat breathless as we pull away from the kiss. "Do you wanna …"

"Of course I wanna. Why else would I be straddling you half-naked with my tongue down your throat? Besides, I'm pregnant and overflowing with hormones. All week when I've been in bed all alone … all I could do was think about you. And how I couldn't wait to get my hands on you. Believe me, I wanna."

He drops his head back, against the back of the couch, and chuckles. "Well, that's good to know. But what I was trying to ask is … do you want to go to the bedroom?"

"Oh. Sure." I extricate myself from his lap and stand up carefully. I start toward the bedroom, letting the open shirt and bra fall to the floor as I go. I've already pushed my pants over my hips and let them fall to the floor, too, when I turn around and find Carter stooping to pick them up. I see that he already has my other discarded items in his hands. Now shouldn't he be more worried about taking off his clothes than picking up mine? "What are you doing?"

"You're making a mess."

"So?" I ask with a laugh. Yeah, he can be a bit of a neat-nik, but not usually at a time like this.

"Well … what if you get up in the middle of the night to get a snack or go to the bathroom?"

"You lost me." I really have no idea why my potential nocturnal wanderings having anything at all to do with whether or not my clothes are strewn across the floor.

"If there's stuff all over the floor, you could trip and fall."

Is he serious? I look at his face. He's serious. It's all I can do to stifle my laughter. I take the clothing out of his hands and toss it over a nearby chair. Then I grab his hands and pull him to me. "You're cute."

"I am?" He looks a bit bewildered by my statement. Which just makes him look cuter.

I nod. "Uh-huh. You're very cute. And sweet."

"I am?"

I nod again, letting go of his hands and laying down on the bed, wriggling out of my panties. "But you're wearing way too many clothes. C'mon. Get naked."

He laughs, "That's what I love about you Abby: your subtleness."

"I like to think of it as being direct. Now would you take off your clothes? Please?"

"Well, since you asked nicely," he says with a grin as he starts unbuttoning his shirt. "At least you know what you want."

"Yeah, you."

"Well, I am very desirable." He slips the shirt off, tossing it on top of the pile of clothes accumulating on the chair. His pants, undershirt, and boxers soon follow.

"You're fast, too," I say as he settles down next to me on the bed.

"Mmm, not always." He dips his head down to my bare shoulder and starts a trail of kisses that moves toward my neck. He nuzzles my neck for a while before moving on, taking those kisses over my shoulder and across my chest as his hands lightly run up my sides.

I lay on my back, my head nestled into a nice soft pillow, my arms wrapped loosely around his body. I close my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hands and lips on my skin. My body seems to fall into a state of complete relaxation. Strains of that John Mayer song run through my mind, "Your body is a wonderland … I'll use my hands … if you want love, we'll make it … swim in a deep sea of blankets …" I feel like I'm slipping into a sea, floating and drifting on waves of calming sensation. His soft touch and light feathery-kisses feel so good. I'm just so relaxed. So content. I feel a smile spread across my face … my hand is resting on the back of his head and my fingers dance through his hair, as he kisses his way over the swell of my belly. It feels so nice …

"Abby?"

"Hmm?"

"You have to wake up, babe."

"I'm awake," I say, struggling to open my eyes.

"Barely." He moves up to lay next to me, our heads on the same pillow.

"I guess you want me to reciprocate, huh?" I turn onto my side to face him, draping an arm over him.

"Well … at least participate."

"Gee, you expect a lot," I say facetiously.

"If you're too tired, Abby, we don't have to." He pushes a lock of hair back from my face and tucks it behind my ear, letting his hand slip down the length of my hair before it comes to rest lightly on my shoulder. "Maybe we should just go to sleep."

"I don't want to go to sleep."

"You could have fooled me," he says with a smile. "It's okay. Really. Maybe we'll wake up in a little while. Or tomorrow …"

"You're working," I remind him with a mumble.

"Yeah, but … I should be home early. Luka promised he'd come in when he could so I won't have to cover his whole shift. So we'll have the whole evening and the whole night …"

"No. I work tomorrow night." I do my best to stifle a yawn.

"Actually, you don't."

"What? Did I get fired in absentia?"

"No, you just got switched back to days."

"How did that happen?" I ask, suddenly much more awake.

"Oh, I don't know." He puts on his best innocent face. "Maybe … I just happened to mention to Weaver how tough it is for you to work all night these days. And maybe she just happened to mention that to the nursing supervisor. You know, it must have been something like that."

"You did that for me?" I ask, bringing a hand up to his cheek. "Thank you." I lean forward and give him a little kiss. Slipping my other hand under his body and finding a different cheek to rest it on.

"Ah, I did it as much for me as I did it for you. I missed you way too much this week. I couldn't stand the thought of it going on any longer. Besides, it's better for you and the baby to be on a set schedule."

"So you did it for the baby?" I ask as I push myself up onto my knees.

"Well, I told you, I did it for myself. And for my girls." He rolls onto his back next to me, giving me a chance to throw one leg over his body, straddling his waist.

"You're looking out for us."

"Well, that's my job."

"'Cause you're the daddy?"

"Uh-huh."

"And I can't look out for myself?"

"That's not what I meant." I think he can tells by my tone that I'm just teasing him. "Although, I'll admit, I'd be perfectly happy if you just didn't work at all."

"Oh, and what? Spend my days lying around stuffing my face?"

"No. But you've got quite an important fulltime job now." Funny how he seems to be petting the belly again. "So if there ever comes a day when it's just too much, and you just want to stay home …"

"And … pay the bills with what money?"

"Abby," he says in a tone of voice that suggests that I'm being ridiculous.

"Ohh … you'd pay my bills, and I'd be a kept woman."

"I was thinking more along the lines of I'd be supporting my family, and you'd be doing the most important job there is -- taking care of our baby." I'm just about to fire off some sort of snotty response and take him up on that whole 'let's just go to sleep' thing when he seems to sense my annoyance and wraps his hands lightly around my wrists, effectively keeping me pinned on top of him as he speaks again, "But Abby? Only if that's what you want. I'm not saying that's what I think you should do. Or what I want you to do. I just want you to know that it's an option."

"Oh," I say, relaxing my body and getting comfortable once again, no longer thinking about rolling off of and away from him. "Well, as long as it's just an option."

"Of course." He runs his hands up my back, pulling me down closer to him. "I would never try to make you do something you don't want to do."

"Oh really?" I look down pointedly at the roundness between us.

"Well, that was different."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I knew you really wanted it. You just didn't know it."

"Hmm …" I turn my head to the side and snuggle against his chest.

"What? I'm right, aren't I? Don't try to tell me you don't want this. I hear how you talk to her when you think I can't hear you."

"Of course I want it. I wanted it then … I just didn't think it was possible."

"Anything is possible. There's always a way … if you want it enough. No matter how daunting something seems, if you want it more than anything … so badly that you can practically taste it … "

He kinda trails off, his voice sounding soft and full of sentiment. I know he's thinking about the baby, how much he wanted it, and how close we … I came to ending it all and how glad we both are that I couldn't go through with it. I'm grateful for that every single day, and I know he is, too. I can feel tears threatening to boil to the surface. Okay, enough of all this mushy emotion. Things are supposed to be hot and sweaty about now … not warm and fuzzy.

I push myself up away from him, then look down at him and give him a wicked little smile. "You mean … the way that I want you right now?"

He looks into my eyes, and I watch his expression change from wistful to lustful.

His hands slip up my legs and come to rest on my hips. I trail a finger along his shoulder and down his chest, doing a little exploration of his pecs and abs, before finding my way back to his sensitive little nipples. After tossing my head to get my hair out the way, I lean down and attack his neck once again. Eventually letting my lips follow the trail laid by my fingers. He's slowly and sensuously trailing his hands up over my butt and along my back. He slips his hands along my side, inadvertently tickling me and causing me to giggle around the nipple that I've sucked into my mouth. He manages to find his way to my breasts where he begins to fondle and caress their fullness. His fingers trace lazy patterns around my sensitive flesh, finally landing on the already taut nipples.

"Ohh," I moan slowly, as I arch my back and grind my pelvis against him. His previous ministrations had managed to arouse me quite nicely, even in my half-asleep state. So now the slightest touch seems to drive me crazy. Of course with all the pregnancy hormones coursing through my body, that's pretty much true all the time.

He abruptly moves his hands away from my boobs and back on to my hips, where he pushes me away slightly, shifting me back onto his legs. I'm momentarily confused when I realize that he's struggling to sit up, but as soon as he's achieved the position he wants, he takes my hand, encouraging me to move close to him. I sit up on my knees before him, draping my arms loosely over his shoulders. He starts a trail of kisses down at my collarbone, moving slowly over my chest and to my full orbs. His tongue lashes out at a nipple before quickly sucking it into his mouth. My back arches toward him as I wrap my arms around his head, holding him close .

I slide a hand down in between our bodies, caressing his chest as I move lower and lower until I find the object of my search … his hard shaft that now throbs in my hand.

"Please?" I ask.

"I'm ready whenever you are," he says, somewhat breathlessly.

I let go of him and put both my hands on his shoulders for support as I slowly lower my body. His hands on my waist help to steady me as I impale myself on him. We both let out a low moan as we are joined together.

I wrap my legs around him and he puts his arms around me, pulling me close.

"It's nice like this," I tell him.

"Mmm, I wanted to have you close."

I lean forward and find his lips, nibbling at the lower one gently, finally capturing it between my lips. I pull away and then go back for more, slipping my tongue into his slightly opened mouth. Our tongues mingle as our hands explore each other's backs. Ultimately, I end up holding his head, letting my fingers run through his soft hair while his hands resting back on my waist help to move me up and down on him. I rotate my hips and grind my pelvis into his. Our movements are languid … slow and sensual. In some ways, even with the sensation building and my arousal mounting, I feel like I'm still in that dream state I'd fallen into earlier. We move in harmony with each other over and over again, our bodies seeming to merge into one entity.

"Abby," he moans, running his hands through my hair, nuzzling his head into my neck. He finds a sensitive spot that sends a shiver through my body.

"Mmm," I sigh, as I wriggle my hips against him, relishing the feel of him inside of me, but knowing that it won't last much longer as we both are starting to need that release.

"Abby," he calls, his voice more frantic this time. His hands glide down my back and firmly grasp my ass. He begins lifting me up and down, the pace growing faster and faster.

"Oh, God. Oh, God. John." I mumble constantly as the pleasure grows and grows. With each downward stroke, he manages to hit just the right spot. And in my heightened state of sensitivity, it doesn't take long until I feel myself reach the brink of orgasm.

"Oh!" I cry out as the waves crash over me. As my muscles clench around him, he stops all movement. "Don't stop!" I gasp out, still desperately wanting and needing more. He starts moving again, helping me to move along his shaft while he thrusts up in me. As he gets closer, his hips rise higher off the bed, pushing his erection deeper and deeper. He seems to grow and swell inside of me as I feel another climax building.

"Faster, baby …" I mumble in his ear.

"Oh, Abby. Oh, God, I'm so close."

"Me, too. Don't stop. I'm almost … uhh!" I gasp as fireworks explode inside of me, fingers of pleasure spreading through my body. John is still moving desperately within me as my muscles clench against him. He holds me tightly in place as he fiercely pushes into me.

"Oh!" he calls as I feel one big thrust, followed by several small jerks that deposit his warm juice deep inside.

As the tension drains out of my body, I slump against him. Snuggling against his chest. After a moment he collapses back onto the pillows, putting me squarely on top of him, using him as my pillow.

"Ahh …" I sigh contently, enjoying being so close to him, the two of us wrapped around each other.

"Happy?" he asks.

"More like satisfied," I clarify.

"Oh," he says, rolling us over onto our sides. "Well, I'm happy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He brushes a lock of my hair back from my face. "I'm here with you. Home with you."

"Well, we're glad you're home."

"Have I mentioned yet today how much I love you?"

"No, I don't think so." I give him what I hope is a charming smile.

"Well then … I love you, Abby." He looks down at the belly between us. "And I love you, too, princess."

"We love you, too," I assure him.

"You tired?"

"Hmm, not anymore."

"Really? I thought for sure you'd be out like a light. You have been awake for more than 24 hours."

"Nope. I'm oddly energized now."

"So … what do you want to do?" I just leer at him in response. "You're gonna have to give me some time for that," he laughs. "So, in the meantime, what do you want to do?"

"Uh .. Hey, I got a good idea."

"Oh yeah?" He sounds intrigued.

"Yeah."

"So what's this brilliant idea?"

"You can give me a pedicure," I say, proffering a foot and wiggling the toes for his inspection.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I asked you to?"

"But why would you want me to?"

"Well … because I can, for the moment, still see my toes. And I can see that they are in need of some attention. However, it's a little tough for me to reach them these days … what with the big belly and all."

"Your belly's not that big."

"Okay, I'll tape a volleyball to your stomach and see how easy it is for you to paint your toenails."

"I don't paint my toenails."

"John," I say, rolling my eyes.

"What?"

I heave a sigh. "I can't believe you're gonna make me do this."

"Do what?"

"Guilt trip. Okay, here goes."

"Uh-oh."

"I can't believe that I'm having your baby, and you won't even paint my toenails for me. I'm making you a baby, for God's sake, and you can't put some nail polish on for me."

"Okay, okay," he says, laughing. "I give up. I'll paint your toenails."

"Actually, I want a pedicure."

"What's the difference?"

"Well, a pedicure means a massage, lotion, filing, nail polish."

"Sounds complicated."

"I think you can handle it," I assure him.

"Hmm … is it gonna be an all naked pedicure?"

"If you want it to be," I say, leaning over the bed to the lower drawer in the nightstand to retrieve my nail stuff. "You kinky freak," I say under my breath.

"What was that?"

"I said, how about Passion Pink?" I wave the bottle at him.

"Well, I like the sound of that."

I get to spend the next twenty minutes having my feet pampered. A nice long massage for each foot and then Carter, who claims to never have done this kind of thing, did a great job on my nails. And I found the whole thing to be very relaxing. Oddly enough, as relaxed as I am, I still don't feel tired. I feel … hungry. Imagine that.

"Not bad," I tell him, inspecting the Passion Pink toenails. "Except you got some on my toe."

"Where?" he asks, skeptically, bending over to look.

"Right there on the little toe."

"That little spot? You're being kinda picky, aren't you?"

"I told you it wasn't bad. It's just not perfect."

"So I won't quit my day job."

"Too bad. I was hoping you would, and we could spend all of our days like this," I say, giving him a little peck on the lips before I carefully get out of bed.

"Doing naked pedicures in bed?"

"Well, the naked in bed part, anyway." Being careful of my newly-painted toes, I make my way to the chair and retrieve his shirt, pulling it on.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna waddle out to the kitchen."

"You don't waddle."

"I will now." He looks at me, confused. "Because of my toes," I explain.

"Oh. You don't want to mess up my fine paint job."

"Something like that," I say over my shoulder as I go out to the kitchen to grab a midnight snack. On the way back to the bedroom, I walk by the couch and retrieve the bag of baby clothes so that I can finally show Carter the baby stuff.

"Whatcha got?" he asks from the doorway of the bedroom. He reaches out to take the shopping bag.

"Baby clothes. Remember?"

"I meant your snack."

"Oh." I settle onto the bed and wait for him to join me. "Honey Nut Cheerios." I wave the box at him.

"Nutritious."

"The baby will like it. Babies like Cheerios."

"You really think babies like Cheerios?"

"It's one of the first table foods they get."

"My point exactly. Who knows if they like them. They don't get much choice."

"You always have to be right, don't you?" I stick my tongue out at him.

" Always? More like hardly ever. I know that you're always right."

"It's about time you finally figured that out."

"So am I finally gonna get to see your purchases?" he asks, turning to the bag and conveniently changing the subject.

"Well go ahead and look," I tell him as I shovel a handful of cereal in my mouth

He pulls the items out carefully, one by one, commenting on each of them. He's got quite a pile of sleepers and nightgowns and little outfits piled up when he comes to one of my favorites, a hooded sweater knitted with various shades of pink and lavender.

"Look at this little sweater." He lays it carefully over my belly. "It looks good," he pronounces. "It's so tiny. It looks like doll clothes."

"Princess clothes," I say.

"Oh … yeah. Princess clothes. Speaking of which, I do love all these little outfits with princess written right on them."

"The Princess Line. That's what Susan called it. Sounds like cruise ships to me."

"Well, they're adorable. And so perfect for our little princess."

"We thought you'd like them."

"Oh my God, look at these tiny little shoes," he says as he retrieves the last item from the bag and holds up a little pair of traditional white baby shoes, adorned with little pink bows. "I can't imagine anything with feet this small."

"Tiny little feet that are gonna walk all over you."

"Like mother, like daughter?"

"Well, I hope so."

"I hope she's just like you, too," he says.

"I meant … I hope it's a daughter. I mean … all these pink clothes. What would we do with them if we had a boy?"

"Dress him in pink?" he asks, as a joke I hope.

"That would go over well."

"He'll be … liberated."

"He'll be beat up."

"I didn't mean he'd have to wear pink clothes for the rest of his life."

"How about he doesn't wear pink clothes at all? We'll just have to buy new clothes if it's a boy."

"See? It's not so bad buying the baby stuff, is it?"

"Well, a few little outfits wasn't so bad. I'm still not sure where to start with all the other stuff."

"Don't worry about it. We've got plenty of time."

"Not that much time. And it's gonna go by so fast. I keep having this nightmare about bringing the baby home and not having a thing ready. And do you know where I always end up putting the baby?"

"Dresser drawer?"

"No. The oven. What do you think that means?" I ask with a big yawn that I'm not quite able to stifle.

"I think it means you should stop eating before bed." He takes the cereal box out of my hand and puts it on the nightstand next to him. He leans over and gives me a little kiss. "And I think that it's time for bed."

"We're already in bed," I point out.

"Fine. Then it's time to sleep. You look awfully tired."

"Yeah. Maybe that whole going an entire day without sleep … well, other than that little nap I had last night about this time … is starting to catch up to me," I say, as I lay down on my side, getting comfortable. "Time for me to get my beauty sleep."

"Not that you need it," he says, snuggling up with me under the covers.

"Nice ass kissing."

"I thought so."

"Good-night, John" I say, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck.

He kisses the top my head and sighs happily. The last thing I hear as I drift of to sleep is him whispering, "Good-night, Abby. Good-night, princess. I love you."