A/N: This is a one-shot which I imagine to be about 6 months or so after the ending of Right Here. Although if you've not read that, just think of it as some time after 200 (so there are slight spoilers from that episode). Anyway, I kind of like the idea of writing a JJ and Will pregnancy and baby fic that ties in with how I imagined their recovery post-200. Might write that as a multi-chapter story at some point but for now I wanted to get over the block which was stopping me working on my other stories so I wrote this.

Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy it :)

Excitement. And then a flash of paralysing fear. Then an odd sense of melancholy as she remembered the last time. Followed quickly by a spark of joy that ignited and seemed to swell within her.

Taking a breath to stabilise her emotions, she glanced down at the object she held in her shaking hands – just in case she was mistaken. She wasn't. And the warmth generated by the spark spread to her limbs. Was it possible for a human body to emit an actual, visible glow?

Downstairs, the front door opened and she heard Henry excitedly greet his father. The smile on her face only grew as she listened to her son babble away about his day at school.

"Momma's in the toilet," the little boy answered, in response to his father's question about her whereabouts. She laughed at his childish directness. Henry had been known to answer the phone with the same blunt and honest response, which provided her colleagues with much amusement.

It was as though Will knew it the moment he realised his wife was in the bathroom. Instead of giving in to Henry's requests to join him in building whichever Lego creation was the project of the day, he dashed straight up to find her, feeling an extra spring in his step as he reached the top of the stairs.

She met him in the bathroom doorway, her glistening eyes confirming the possibility which had already planted itself in his head. JJ wasn't so overtly emotional under ordinary circumstances; it wouldn't have been a useful quality in her line of work. But right now, she couldn't control her expression. The small white stick she gripped in her hand wasn't even necessary to explain the situation.

"Really?" he breathed, as her joy seemed to overspill and leave its mark across his face. They'd had some truly happy times in the years they'd spent together but, other than at Henry's birth, she didn't think she'd ever seen Will smile so widely that his entire face seemed to light up.

She bit down on her lip, in an attempt to control the overwhelming rush of emotion which coursed through her veins, and nodded slowly. There were no words appropriate to accompany the moment. So she watched, through her own watery eyes, as her husband let a few tears spill onto his cheeks. She released the pressure on her lip and felt her own mouth slide into a broad grin.

"I love you so much," he whispered, pulling her close and wrapping her tightly in his arms. Wrapping them tightly in his arms.

"I love you too," she breathed, against the soft warmth of his shirt, which was now damp with happy tears.

"Momma? Daddy? What are we having for dinner?" Henry shouted from the bottom of the stairs. His parents laughed as their perfect moment was shattered in the most perfect way. They each dried their eyes with their sleeves and took a second to regain their composure.

"I think we should order pizza tonight," Will called back to his son, clearing his throat of the choked up sensation. "What do you think?"

Henry cheered at the unexpected treat of take-out on a school night.

"And how about you, Momma?" he added, laying his hand across JJ's, for the time being, flat stomach, and prolonging their long-awaited burst of happiness. She simply smiled again and placed her hand over his.

"Whatever you think, Daddy."

/
/

It was about a week later that the flash of fear returned. A doctor's appointment to confirm her pregnancy had brought home the fact that it was real; she really had another life growing inside her. A life which she was supposed to nurture and protect until it could survive in the world. And that was terrifying.

"Will?" she whispered, in the dark of their bedroom. "Will, are you awake?" She felt bad disturbing his sleep but she had so many thoughts racing around her head and she couldn't address them all by herself.

Will sighed slightly, accepting that she wasn't simply going to settle down. He'd been wakened for about half an hour with her tossing and turning but had hoped that if she wasn't made aware of this then she'd just close her eyes again. She needed her rest. Whether she was willing to admit that or not.

"What's wrong?" he asked, rolling over to face her.

"I'm thinking," she replied, without giving much away. "About the baby." He'd guessed that much. "This is really happening," she stated, staring up at the ceiling, her wide eyes reflecting the limited light that could be found in their room.

"Yeah, it is," he replied, a small smile forming on his lips, as it did every time he thought of their unborn child.

"But what if something goes wrong?" she worried aloud. "What if there's something wrong with the baby, or with me? Or with both of us? I could lose it. Again. I could get hurt. Or it could just happen. Our baby's heart could just stop beating. And I might not even notice. How can I be sure I'm doing the right things? There's so much I could be getting wrong and…"

"Calm down," Will cut her off, firmly but soothingly. He sat up so he could look her in the eye. "I'm scared too," he admitted. "But it's not like before. You can do things to keep yourself safe at work." He didn't specify what these "things" entailed, in order to put off the inevitable dispute about her staying out of the field until it was at least a daylight hour.

"Bad things can happen no matter what we do," she frowned. Neither of them needed reminding of that fact – they saw it all too often with strangers and with colleagues.

"But you can't let that scare you," he insisted, running his hand through her hair and positioning himself so that he could lay a protective arm across her body.

"I can't lose this baby," she stated and though her tone remained calm and even, he knew this was the root of her fear.

"I know," he whispered, pressing his lips against the side of her head as he pulled her closer. Though he desperately wanted to reassure her, he felt the very same way; he wasn't sure he could handle another trauma so soon. "But we have to take this a day at a time." He hoped his attempt at a sensible approach to their fear was convincing.

"A day at a time?" she repeated, with a slight questioning intonation at the end of the phrase. That seemed a little more bearable. She hadn't been able to think of her concerns in more manageable pieces. She blamed the hormones and told herself this was exactly why she had woken her husband.

"Yeah, and today you need to rest," he replied, with a quiet laugh.

"OK," she agreed, noting his undisguised hint. She curled against him and vowed to herself that she would try to shut off her overactive mind. Her silence lasted a few minutes, in which neither party really attempted to close their eyes.

"We're really doing this; we're really pregnant," she whispered with an air of disbelief, as she repeated the sentiment which had begun their conversation.

Wrapping his arm around her stomach in the process, he reached for her hand under the covers, and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"I know," he whispered, his voice reflecting the same emotions that muddled in her brain.

And eventually they fell asleep, accepting that each day, for the foreseeable future, they would be living with the ever-present threat that their worst fears would be realised, but also with the equally constant hope that it would all be worth it.