Genevieve sat at the dining room table, eating her morning cereal. She always woke up a few minutes before Doyle did, and usually stayed in bed next to him, gently rubbing his muscular shoulders until he woke. This morning, however, her grumbling stomach made her go downstairs early for breakfast. She stared out the window, and a sunny Saturday morning greeted her. A gentle, cooling breeze swept in through the open window, rustling Genevieve's long, raven hair. While she was crunching away at her Lucky Charms, poking at the sugary rainbows and horseshoes in the bowl, she hadn't noticed Doyle sneaking down the stairs and approaching her, his footsteps surprisingly quiet. Her husband crept up behind her and placed his hands over her eyes. "Guess who?" Doyle whispered, his lips brushing against his wife's ear. Genevieve smiled and removed his hands from her green eyes, rising from her seat at the table. She wrapped her thin arms around Doyle's neck, and he rubbed her hips, caressing her in his arms. She brushed his red hair out of his face, and kissed his nose, giggling involuntarily. He smiled, and responded with a proper, passionate kiss. Their lips parted, and Doyle was surprised to see a concerned look on his Genevieve's face. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly. She rushed over to the living room and grabbed one of Doyle's t-shirts off of the couch, and deposited it on his shoulder. "Honey, the shades are open, for goodness sake! I know you have an amazing body, but don't flaunt it too much!" At this comment, Doyle laughed out loud, and pulled on his shirt. "Good looks never hurt anybody" he replied, standing behind Genevieve and patting her stomach. This reminded her of the news that she would have to deliver, unsure as to how he would react. She spun around, and took his hands in hers. "Hey, it's kind of ironic that you're rubbing my stomach. Last night, I found out some life-changing news. Doyle, I… I'm pregnant."