Quiet Night.
It's the middle of the night and they're surrounded by mostly darkness, save for the light of the moon peaking through the blinds. She's turns to face him, a hand on her belly to soothe the restless little girl inside. He's fast asleep, face down, arms in a heap over his head.
She scoots closer to him and pokes his side, trying to get his attention. The first time, he doesn't budge so she pokes him again.
"Five more minutes, Q," he mumbles. "Ben and Jerry's isn't gonna grow legs and walk away, baby."
"No, I don't want ice cream," she says quietly.
He opens his eyes, blinking to adjust to the darkness, and yawns. "What's she in the mood for tonight?" he asks.
"Nothing, actually," she tells him.
"Then, what's wrong?" he wonders, turning on his side to face her.
"Beth?" she questions, referring to the song he'd sang that day.
"Cool, huh?" he shrugs, a small smile on his face.
"It's pretty," she says, rubbing her belly. "I think it'll suit her…" she whispers, looking into his eyes. "Beth Puckerman," she mumbles.
His eyes widen a little. "You'd give her my last name?" he asks.
She nods quietly. "You're her daddy. Of course I would."
He doesn't say a word and instead extends his hand to lightly run his fingertips along the swollen skin of her abdomen. "Will you miss her?" he asks, still looking down at the place his daughter rested.
"More than anything," she tells him, moving her hand to give him more access. "You?"
He just nods, a sigh escaping his lips.
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