"You look beautiful" he whispered as he threw the blanket over the grass. He had said the river was 'something to be seen' but under the moonlight, and with the ripples of water that danced so tenderly against the banks, I found the whole setting serene, almost picturesque.

Taking my hand in his he lowered me down, and I kept my other hand on the back of my suit, self conscious of showing a little more than I had planned to tonight. It was a strange feeling, hearing myself referred to as 'beautiful', and I almost asked him to repeat it again because I liked the way it rolled so effortlessly off his tongue, almost as if he had been dying to say it ever since we left my apartment. No, 'beautiful' was something I had rarely, if ever, heard to describe me, perhaps with the exception from Dadda. High school had seemingly thought 'beautiful' wasn't quite the word to describe the ginger swot that endlessly found herself roaming the library catalogue for the following month's assignment.

Yes, hearing Will Schuester call me beautiful made me feel every bit of the woman I wanted to be, and every bit of the woman that was perhaps just enough for him.

"You look as good as always Will", and I quickly gave his bicep a gentle squeeze, blushing profusely as I went from empowered woman to flirty, giggly teenager in approximately half a minute. But he didn't seem to mind though, judging by the way his pearly white harbour beamed so brightly. I relished in his reaction, taking comfort in the warmth of his body as his arm wrapped protectively around my waist.

"I was wondering what you called this".

I tried not to react too enthusiastically as his fingers wondered across my upper arm, "it looks like a dress, but its shorts?"

I laughed, "I had no idea what it was as well. Claire said it's called a playsuit, or a one piece." I added, conscious that Will was just as baffled as he had previously been. "Look" I whispered, turning my back fully towards him and dipping ever so slightly so that my hair fell to the side of my neck, "there's a zipper that runs along the back so you can just take it off whenever you like".

I realised in horror how that must have sounded, and how inviting my words had seemed. Take it off whenever you like. It had me cringing beyond my wildest fantasies. Yet somehow Will's voice had a way of making light of the situation, and despite the clear, underlying message to his words, "That's good to know", I felt a little more at ease, and it reminded me of that day when his confessions had spilled through my intercom as I learnt of his deepest desires and wants.

That had also been a new first; being wanted, and in such a way that it transcended the platonic nature of our previous relationship that had been filled full of advice and comfort. His motivations had been clear, there was no disputing the fact; wine coolers, riding bulls and if I had heard that message left for someone other than myself I would have felt sickened at the derogatory tone of it. But this was Will's way of telling me that he desired me, despite my mysophobia, the Will, who up until a point I thought had only wanted me because I was unavailable. But his words had been honest and raw, a pent up of emotion that night and I had finally realised that he just wanted me in any shape or form; single, taken, mysophobic or not. And I had gone home that night with the first real smile I had had in weeks.

We lolled in a state of ease as the silence settled pleasantly around us for a minute. We were free from the chains that held us to our titles, and free from the emotional baggage we had carried so heavily on our shoulders for the past few months. We were just Will and Emma and as we lay peacefully on the blanket underneath our weight I felt as though we could achieve anything.

"How far along is Claire?" His tone was inquisitive as he propped himself up by his wrists and I could tell that his was thinking hard and deep, for what though, I had no idea.

"She's 24 weeks" I smiled, sitting cross legged with my back against his side, "You can feel her moving around."

"Her?" His eyes shone brightly, but his smile didn't quite match the expression.

"Isabella they want to call her, Isabella Rose"

"Pretty" he whispered and he bowed his head shamefully as he asked his next question. "Have you felt her?"

"Yes". The honesty spilt from my lips and I could tell they stung by the way his body tensed.

"What did it feel like?" His eyes burned through me as his words came out as no more than hushed whispers.

"Here". I took his hand in mine, ignoring the puzzled look that was carved on his face. I slipped our joined hands gently onto my stomach, placing his down first before resting mine on top. It must have looked strange, and I wondered if just for a moment he had thought in the way I had just done, that in the future he would feel the love of his child kick inside my stomach.

"It was about here in Claire's stomach she kicked me last" and I pressed my hand a little heavier on his so he knew exactly where I meant. "And she squirms a lot" I smiled as my hand tried to show him how it felt.

"Does she always kick when you touch her?" His question was innocent as his curiosity grew and I felt pained that he had once been close to experiencing everything that I had selfishly took for granted.

"Not always" I shook my head, and my gaze dropped, stumbling upon his longing eyes. The intimacy that was unlocked in such a simplistic, innocent sort of gesture as his hand lay pressed against my stomach told me more than any words could ever have done. The graze of his finger, the hope in his eyes confirmed a future made up of understanding and comfort within one another.

"I bet it's beautiful" and he looked straight into my eyes, his sorrow penetrating.

"I want children" I whispered, and it had been the first time I had admitted to anyone aloud that I had thought about having a family.

Yet even for someone as inexperienced as me knew that this kinda talk wasn't typically 'first date'. But perhaps it was because it didn't feel like a first date, more like a rekindling of acquaintances and of past forbiddances that allowed our hearts to show our true desires without the meaningless drabble in between.

"I want to have children with you" and the way he touched my cheek so tenderly when he said you made me feel as though I was the only thing in the world that mattered to him. And for that brief moment he was the only thing that mattered as well.

He drew in a deep breath, plagued by the vast deepness of our conversation as he slowly withdrew his hand from my stomach. It felt a little cooler as the evening breeze tumbled past effortlessly so I scooted closer, missing the warmth of where his hand had just been.

"Can I kiss you?" It was apparent by the hitch in his throat that he was nervous, and yet so prepared so I hurriedly pleaded with him to do so as my body involuntarily became moulded to his.

Taking my cheek in his hand he ran a thumb over my lips and my eyes drifted shut, waiting with keen anticipation for his lips to caress mine. His mouth moved over mine hungrily, our tongues becoming woven together as we pushed further and harder into one another.

It was erotic and passionate and the panted breaths and heaving chests was the only thing to be heard as the last break of light faded willingly to sleep.

And it was beautiful.

I was overwhelmed by the amount of reviews for the 1st and 2nd chapters. Thank you :) Hope you enjoy.

To Firstlady1408 and EpicWemma I hope this answers your questions about the playsuit, I've also posted a link on my profile of the one I had in mind for Emma to wear :)