"It'll be fine," he hears himself repeating as he pats the hand on his left knee, the other far too preoccupied with bouncing up and down to calm him down. "It'll be fine."

She's already thrown up three times this morning, and while he knows that that's supposed to be normal for pregnant women- women, yes, Lea is a woman, and you're definitely still gay- he can't shake his own anxiety knowing that Lea is this anxious.

He's gay, he's known that since he was three when he not only played with Barbie and Ken dolls, smooshing together the faces of the Kens as they all got married one by one, but also when he started singing, dancing, and feeling different from anyone else. Until he met Lea, of course, when his whole world fell into place, dancing down Broadway in the middle of the night with the woman of his dreams.

Why can't she be a guy and make this all easier? Why does she have to be a she?

A part of him wants to call the whole thing with Karl off and just... do this. With her. But how well-adjusted would he even be as a parent, flip-flopping back and forth on an issue as important as sexuality? Not that he'll be any better in that regard as a parent opposite Karl, where he'll still want to fly out to LA to cheat on his partner on a regular basis, and with a girl, no less.

He can't help but think that this was all a terrible idea after seeing Lea's face the night before, but he's not about to tell her that, not when they're so close to this immaterial thing that they've both gotten so attached to by now.

"It'll be fine," he says again when she squeezes his hand, nodding as he awkwardly looks around the entirely too pink room, the gaudy decorations, the pictures of babies and flowers up on the wall. None of these things mean anything to him, and if he's honest with himself, he never thought once that he would find himself sitting in a gynecologist's office, not once. Under normal circumstances they'd be joking about it, making fun of the awkwardness of everything surrounding them, but he knows far too well how nervous she is- he feels it, too.

"Ms. Sarfati?"

Lea's hand tenses in his, and he nods at her, trying hard to be reassuring and likely failing as they both get up, Jon uncertain of whether he should actually stay behind or come with her- she's already peed in a cup, it's not about accompanying her for that, which he clearly wouldn't do- his heart finally settling into an uncomfortable place between throat and stomach when she takes his hand and gives him her own non-verbal reassurance.

She wants him there. Of course she wants him there, they're inseparable, and he instantly feels the sharp pang of his own fears coming up inside of him like a wellspring that feels slightly like a sudden panic attack as he considers the ramifications of their actions. Lea is pregnant.

Lea is pregnant.

It hasn't really hit him yet, not really, but now, Lea sitting up onto the table in the examination room, stirrups and all- he's only heard horror stories until now- everything feels too real.

Despite the nurse's insistence that the doctor would be right in, it becomes very clear, very quickly, that it'll be a while until they're out of here, let alone moved to the ultrasound room, and he wraps an arm around Lea, her legs dangling off the side of the seat, tucking her in under his chin.

"Have you already decided what you're going to do about work?" he asks, holding her at arm's length as he smiles, everything- at least for the moment- feeling back to normal, natural, familiar.

"Well, obviously. I think I might just take a break for a while, you know? It's not like I'm going to be of much use to anyone while I'm pregnant. And after- well, that isn't really an issue, right?"

"Right," he mutters softly, suddenly realizing that they're back to the same exact topic again. "It's just-"

"What, that you're gay?" It wasn't what he was going to say, but apparently it is now, and his jaw tightens as he holds her hand. "Gay guys don't sleep with their female friends. Especially not their best friend."

She's right, of course.

"Unless they're really confused," he finishes quietly for her, frowning, wondering for a second how much of this is fueled by the hormones from the pregnancy, and how much is genuine, instantly berating himself for even thinking it. "Look, Lea, I'm... huge in the LGBT community. I can't very well tell them that I'm fucking you."

"But you want to," she insists, and he sighs.

"Yes. I do want to." Well, a part of him wants to, though that part is quietly resigned to loving Lea in the shadows and nowhere else. The fallout would be... tremendous. "But that doesn't mean that it's going to happen. Not with-" he wants to say Karl for a moment, and then promptly doesn't, realizing he'd rather swallow his own tongue, "not with this baby and everything else going on."

"But even if," she continues again, Jon envisioning a long line of buts still to come as he internally begs the doctor to just come in already so that this conversation can be over, "we love each other."

As if that's the answer to everything, which it isn't, he knows it isn't, and it's ridiculous to even think it.

Every time he tries to sit back and think about what his and Lea's future would be like, it ends in disaster. In his head, something always goes wrong, whether it's one of them dying, or fights all the time, or an army of angry gay men stampeding the house. He's rationalizing. It's tremendously stupid.

"There's a big different between loving someone- which I do, with all my heart- and being in love with someone," he whispers to her, knowing that it's a reality check that they both need. Of course he loves her. But she's still a she.

Finally the door opens and he returns to his full height, not letting go of Lea's hand until she forces him to by pulling away. He deserves that, he thinks one moment, until the next when everything goes blank.

"Well, you're definitely pregnant."

It's as if suddenly, in that moment, nothing about their previous conversation really matters anymore, Lea's arms around him with a sudden squeal as he laughs and holds her as tightly as he can.

Karl doesn't matter, being gay doesn't matter, loving her but not being in love with her doesn't matter, because all that does is Lea and this baby they're actually having together.

What happens later, they can worry about then.

Most of the doctor's tests are just as awkward as he's expected them to be with, perhaps, the lone exception of her having blood drawn. Everything looks fine- and even if everyone keeps telling them that they'll hear more in a couple of days on the specimen and blood test results, he can't help feeling like he's just been told that there are ten perfect little fingers and ten perfect little toes and the little thing is going to come out looking exactly like Lea, maybe with his hair, but really, mostly just Lea.

All this time, the sonogram has been what he's been looking forward to the most, but when he's finally standing in the dark room where it's all supposed to happen, where he's supposed to meet his son or daughter for the first time on that screen, he feels like the rug is being swept out from under him, the only thing keeping him firmly rooted to the ground Lea's hand in his.

He wonders why he's so panicked- really, he's not the one having what really, truly looks like an awkward dildo with a condom on it shoved up his private parts. Lea doesn't even look fazed, a soft laugh escaping her as she looks at him, beaming.

"It'll be fine," she's the one to tell him this time around, and he just nods, running a hand through over her hair as he looks at her as if he's seeing her for the first time. Maybe he is. "Calm down, daddy," she grins, "what are you so worried about?"

It hits him like a brick when he realizes it, realizes that mom and dad- they're real now. He's going to be a father, and she's-

His heart aches in his chest just as the monitor cuts him off, amorphous gray movement catching his eye as he feels his heart- he's sure- stop, replaced by a new, different heartbeat that isn't quite his own, but Lea's, too.

"Lea, that's- that's-"

"I know," she whispers, her eyes glued to the screen as much as his are, and he realizes belatedly how tightly he's gripping onto her hand with both of his, staring at the little bean of a person on the screen.

"That's little Baby Groff-Sarfati," the nurse nods with a chuckle, clicking and measuring and occasionally moving what Jon's sure by now is some kind of probe for a better look.

"You're really cute, little baby," Jon hears himself whisper, faintly feeling Lea's hand grip his tighter. He's tearing up, he can't help it, and suddenly, he can't remember the last time he was this happy. "And I can't wait to meet you."

He can't believe the little boy or girl is a part of him and a part of Lea, and he has to wonder whether he hasn't just seen a glimpse of God in the shape of a tiny, little, lentil-shaped miracle.

"Can we... get pictures of that?" he hears Lea ask, prompting him back to reality as he absently wipes at his eyes, realizing that the tears he thought so well-contained a second ago are now running down his cheeks.

The monitor shuts off too soon, he thinks, trying not to think about the fact that he's supposed to be sharing this joy with someone else, not with Lea.

The pictures aren't nearly as good as the sound of the little heartbeat, the moving, shifting- growing, too, even if they can't see it- live-action feed of the little thing, but it's close enough, and he's still smiling at them as Lea gets cleaned up- all until he realizes that there's three of them there. One for Lea, one for him, and one for Karl. The third isn't just a spare, and guilt grips his stomach painfully as Lea reemerges from the bathroom to grab hold of his hand.

"Let's go home, daddy."

Half an hour later, as it turns out that pregnant women have cravings (as Lea puts it, needs), home suddenly turns into a detour to a local vegan soups and sandwich place.

"Isn't your lease running out?" he asks, eying the toppings on the sandwich in front of him with no uncertain trepidation. "Seeing as you didn't renew it before the deadline?"

For Lea, it's a vegan tomato-basil soup, healthful, logical- and only when his eyes turn to an extra-large mocha soymilk frappe with extra chocolate sauce does he realize where her cravings are leading her.

"Well, that's not for another three and a half months," she says more casually than he might have expected. Still, she has that look on her face that tells him that she knows that his concern is coming from the fact that three and a half months fall well within the bounds of her pregnancy. "I don't know, I thought I might move in with Stephen."

There it is.

"Stephen?"

"He offered! It's not that big of a deal. Besides, you're living with Karl, aren't you?"

"Those two are not even remotely comparable. You don't hate Karl."

"That doesn't mean I like him, either."

That jolts him. For all he's known, he's always thought that Karl and Lea have gotten along, but perhaps a part of that understanding comes from the fact that Karl likes everyone, gets along with everyone, and would never dare think poorly of anyone. It's a stupid assumption to have made, he realizes that now.

"I'm sure Karl would be just thrilled if I moved in with you two."

He stares at her for a long moment, stabbing her drink with her straw as she attempts to mix the chocolate sauce in with the rest of it all, holding his breath before reaching across the table to take her free hand in both of his. "I would be thrilled, Lea."

It's the first honest moment they've had in a while- this doesn't have to do with love, with sex, with sexuality- rather, it's about them, and the fact that New York will always feel empty without her there by his side. That he knows he'd miss her even if he'd never gotten to meet her.

When she winks at him in response, he knows everything is right again with the world.

Under normal circumstances he'd be pissed. It's pouring, someone stole her covered parking space, presumably to park out of the rain, and the nearest open spot on the street is two blocks down from her building.

But Lea- after reporting the problem to her landlord- is grinning hugely.

"What on earth made you decide that it was a good idea to switch from owning your own home to renting an apartment, again?" he asks tersely, a copy of Cosmopolitan in his hand to shield him from the rain whenever they do finally decide to step outside and brave the weather, Jon still staring at the door handle as if it has spectacularly bad fashion sense.

"First, the fact that I miss New York and want to get back there sooner rather than later and apparently wasn't attached enough to LA to keep the house, and secondly, I like being able to call someone who isn't Stephen to come fix stuff for me," she laughs, and he can't help laughing with her.

"Sometimes," he grins, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek, "I think you forget that you're Lea Michele."

On that note, he finally opens the car door into torrents of rain, cursing the fact that Lea didn't think to bring an umbrella when rain was clearly in the forecast- 80% is nothing, Jon, don't be so negative- quickly realizing that the cosmopolitan is going to be useless, and setting off into a jog before Lea calls after him, laughing.

"Don't! Come back here! Jonathan!"

It's an admittedly warm October day, and the rain feels almost pleasant against his if he squints and convinces himself hard enough. On the other hand, Jon is fairly convinced that every single day is perfectly warm in Los Angeles, and that this is nothing special.

At least, maybe if it weren't for Lea, it wouldn't be, but she drags him back by the hand, jumping into puddles and onto him and laughing until he does it all with her, and by the time they actually make it to her condo, they're both soaked to the skin, and Jon's cheeks hurt from all the laughing.

"You're ridiculous," he mutters as he tries hard to wring out his shirt before they step inside, and she just beams and leans up to kiss him again.

"That's why you love me so much."

"That's why I love you the mostest," he grins, returning the kiss on the forehead, fairly certain that by now, he's wet in places his body really was never meant for.

"Heeey, mom."

Lea is by his side in an instant, and he has to contain his laughter as he grins at her, the winter squash soup they were making suddenly forgotten.

"Yeah, no, everything is fine," he nods, gesturing at the phone to signal to Lea that he'd left her a message earlier, mouthing the words. "Lea and I just had some big news to share, actually."

"You're finally getting married?" he can hear his mother beaming on the other end, suddenly making him want to bury his head in his hands as his unoccupied forearm comes to rest on the kitchen counter.

"Mom," he admonishes with a soft laugh, rolling his eyes just slightly as Lea finds herself suddenly so much more interested in the soup than the conversation. "We're having a baby."

He knows the instant the words leave his lips that he worded it incorrectly.

"What? But that's-"

"She's the surrogate," he hurries to correct himself as quickly as possible with a soft sigh, suddenly not liking the word very much at all. "She- volunteered herself for the position."

"What brought this on?"

That's a longer conversation, of course, and he has to think back to what even started all of this, what on earth made Lea think that this was a good idea to go along with. It's almost awkward to explain to his mother, but his mention of Karl derails the conversation somewhat.

"Oh, that nice boy you introduced us to at Thanksgiving? Who also visited on Easter?"

"Yes, Karl. Him."

"Well, I think that's wonderful!" he hears his mother say, and he flinches just barely enough for Lea to notice. "You know we're very happy for you, right? Are you just trying or is this for sure already? You'll have to be sure to keep us updated on everything! Our very first grandbaby!"

His mother's enthusiasm feels almost premature, and he runs a nervous hand through his hair, absently tucking it behind his ear.

"I was kind of hoping you'd be excited for us. It's, um, yeah- it's for sure. We went to see her gynecologist today, actually."

It reminds him of coming out. His parents have always been supportive of him and Dave, and whether it's the arts or boys, it never seemed to really matter. But a part of him can't forget that his mother still asked him if he was sure that he was gay.

He doesn't blame her, of course. He has wonderful parents, and he's lucky, he knows that. But he's also smart enough to understand that most parents would want their son or daughter to have a traditional wedding ceremony in a church on a Sunday where the whole family could attend and be happy for them. They have Dave, of course, who got married just recently, but the last thing he wants is to tell his mother now, after all the years of her coming to terms with the fact that he is gay, that he isn't.

"Well, tell Lea that we, of course, still consider her part of the family and that she should know that we all love her. This is an awfully nice thing of her to do for you, you know."

"I know."

The conversation ends on a slightly awkward note until he's left frowning at the phone in front of him, brow creased.

"Well? What did she have to say?"

"You're invited for dinner the next time we're up in Lancaster," he starts, retreating back to the comforts of the sofa, leaning against the back of it. "Everyone still loves you and they're all terribly happy that we're doing this, just quietly disappointed that I'm still gay."

"You know she loves you," Lea frowns, concern for Jon taking over any other feelings she might have had otherwise.

"Yeah, I know, it's just-"

"You know what we're going to do tonight?" she asks, sounding very much like she's already decided for them as she ladles soup into both their bowls.

"What?"

"Well, first, we'll eat, and then once that's done, we'll put in our favorite musical soundtracks and sing and dance our way to blissful exhaustion. We have to get this little mash-up of us in my belly used to hearing a lot of showtunes."

It's a good night, one of the best they've had in a while. Jon has this way of laughing with his entire body, his whole body rocking back and forth regardless of what position he's in, sitting, standing, lying down. It only gets worse when he's drunk, mouth wide open as he lights up her whole world, singing and dancing to choreography copied off of youtube, and badly, at that.

By the time she collapses on him after a truly terrible number, both of them laughing hard enough to make their stomach muscles ache and Lea struggling to breathe, everything feels right with the world again.

"You know what I want to audition for?" he asks her when he finally regains his bearings, and she sits up slightly from her position in the crook of his arm.

"What?"

"Thoroughly Modern Millie. Again. This time, with less desperation and lunacy."

"Maybe," she laughs, "you can do your stomach thing!"

"Oh my god, Lea!" His whole body shakes as he tugs her closer, his hand running playfully through her hair to mess it up even worse than it was before from all the dancing and jumping around. "I love you way too much. The stuff I put up with from you is ridiculous."

"You love me," she beams, leaning in to kiss him more playfully than anything else, her lips smooshed together.

It isn't until he threads his fingers into her hair and leans in to really kiss her that it turns into more.

"Jon," she whispers, shaking her head as she pulls away. "Don't. We can't keep doing this."

It's a stupid thing to say, because of course they can, and of course they will. Karl will be none the wiser, Stephen can leave if he has to, and everything will keep happening the way it's been, even if she's pregnant with his child.

"Then maybe you should stop kissing me," he mutters against her lips, his hand coming up to squeeze at her hip, making her hips press against his, earning her a groan.

From that point, it's a pointless discussion to even bother with, Lea absently flipping through her Broadway playlist with her iHome remote until "I Believe" comes on, and he picks her up to carry her to the bedroom, bridal style. It's a nice thought, but it doesn't make the situation any less bittersweet as she moves to straddle his legs, forcing his jeans down until she can tug his cock out of his pajama pants, the hand that wraps around him making Jon groan as his head falls back against the comforter.

"Fuck, Lea," he growls as Lea wraps her mouth around his head, sliding down as far as she can go.

"Stop- Lea, don't- let me," he mutters a few moments later, needing her to, tugging her up and off him and rolling them over, tugging off his pants completely before moving to get hers down and off, hand slipping under her shirt to palm at her breast, his other hand moving quickly to slip past her folds to press inside of her, first one, then two, then his tongue.

"Ohhh god-"

"I'm not stopping until you come for me, Lea baby," he mutters against her clit, his fingers working her furiously know as he eats her out, groaning into her as though this is getting him off as much as it is her.

"Jon, please," she whimpers, wondering for a split second how a gay man can feel so comfortable eating a girl out, all until she comes on his fingers, hard.

He doesn't waste any time, pulling away from her only to tug his shirt off before positioning himself and pushing inside of her in one solid stroke, a low groan slipping out as he thrusts once, twice, bliss written all over his face.

"Fuck, Lea, feel so good."

"Please, daddy," she whines, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist. "Tell me I'm beautiful."

"Most beautiful girl in the world," he mutters against the skin of her neck as he rocks his hips into hers. "Only girl I'd ever even think about sleeping with, baby."

His hand sneaks between their bodies, knowing already that he won't be able to last long, that all it'll take will be her orgasm to set him off, his thumb working her furiously. He knows her body too well by now, too intimately, knows how he can get her off fast, slow, how he can drive her crazy and make her beg for more. For now, though, speed is all that matters, and he groans into her skin as he moves faster, his hips jerking erratically as he pounds into her.

"Tell me you love me? D-daddy-!"

"Of course I love you. More than anything or anyone."

"Jon-"

He pinches her clit, seeming to send her over the edge as she comes, whimpering, clenching around him hard enough to draw his own orgasm out, groaning as he comes inside of her, his forehead pressed against her shoulder as his body rocks out the remainder of his own orgasm, pulling her into his arms as he unceremoniously collapses to the side of her, littering her face with kisses as she comes down from her own high with a yawn.

"That good?"

"That good," she mutters softly, nodding against him, looking for a moment like she might fall asleep. "You?"

"You have no idea," he laughs softly, his hands cradling the sides of her face as he leans his forehead against hers.

"Most gay guys don't sleep with their girlfriends. And I'm pretty sure they don't enjoy it, either on the off chance that they do."

"You're ridiculous," he tells her, his smile fading just slightly as he looks at her.

"You like sleeping with a girl."

That makes him laugh again, loud and bright, and he leans in to kiss her forehead. "You're certainly right about that. I love sleeping with you. But," he continues with that same soft smirk from before, "that doesn't mean anything."

"I'm just saying," Karl sighs into his Grand Marnier Margarita, the picture of their baby laying beside it on the bar. "I'm just saying it would have been nice to have been there."

"I know," Jon concedes, awkwardly tucking his hair behind his ears, entirely too messy. It's getting too long again. "I'm sorry." He really does feel bad about it, just not enough to have done anything any differently.

"Just- we'll plan next time, and both go."

Suddenly the drink is abandoned, and Jon feels comforting hands wrap around his body. He can feel Karl smiling against him, and it makes him wonder what on earth he did to deserve this man when he keeps running back to LA to sleep with Lea, what he did to deserve this baby.

He's a good person, he's not supposed to fuck someone over.

"I told Lea I was going to try out for Millie."

"Yeah? I say go for it. Might actually distract you from your phone for a bit."

He knows Karl is joking, of course, but that doesn't really do all that much to help the implication.

"Oh, and I told my parents," he goes on, ignoring the stab, his fingers content to occupy themselves with the small stir-stick in the gin fizz in front of him. There's almost only ice left in the glass now, not that it really matters.

"It's like I hardly even know anymore you when you come back from your trips with Lea," he laughs, and Jon has to force himself to keep from visibly flinching as Karl returns to his seat, ordering them both another drink. "Did you decide to name the baby while you were there, too?"

"What? No, that's ridiculous."

"I'm just saying, it would be nice to be a bit more involved."

"Karl, it was just one visit," Jon mutters, though it sounds hollow and empty even to his own ears. "You are my partner. But Lea is my best friend, and I'd die for her in a heartbeat. But that doesn't mean that anything is going on behind your back, or that you're less important. My relationship with Lea and my relationship with you are intrinsically different from each other. Lea can't be for me what you are."

They're the right words, it seems, even if they're not entirely honest. Lea could be- even wants to be, he thinks- for him what Karl is.

"Come on, let's go home," Karl nods, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. "So you can prove it to me."

They spend the rest of the evening in bed, first making love, then watching reruns of Friends while eating late-night cereal and cuddling. It's a nice evening, and it would be even nicer if he could have stopped thinking about Lea- the jokes she would have laughed at, the fact that she would have gotten irrationally riled up over the fact that they were out of Honey Bunches of Oats and would have insisted they go on a grocery store run at one a.m. that would have easily turned into an adventure.

He misses her. His chest aches painfully, and he has to wonder if everyone feels this way if they're without their best friend. His relationships with Karl and Lea are intrinsically different, he knows that- but he's never thought before that his relationship with Lea so vastly outweighs everything else in the world.

When Karl's been asleep for a good half hour, he finally feels safe enough to slip out of bed and onto their porch, phone in hand, the sharp, cold sting of the early November night making him wonder whether he deserves to suffer for calling Lea at three in the morning without Karl knowing.

Three rings. "Jon?"

"Hey, you."

It's wonderful, hearing her voice. After all these years, it's become almost comforting- calling Lea always seems to fix everything, and he can feel himself relax into the chair as he overlooks the city missing its most amazing starlet as much as he does.

"Is everything okay? It's three a.m. where you are, baby."

"I just miss you."

That seems to stop her, and he can hear the soft, slow intake of breath as she smiles into the phone. "I miss you, too."

"I couldn't sleep- I mean, we fixed it, and it's fine now, but Karl and I got into a bit of a tiff," he hears himself say, leaning his head back in the chair, ankle coming to rest on his knee, unable to make his leg stop shaking, more from fidgeting than the cold.

"What happened?"

"You," he laughs softly. It's always you. "He was just upset that he didn't get to come along to the first ultrasound."

"Oh."

He can't help but feel that it's their baby, and that Karl doesn't really get it. It's the same sort of noise, the same sort of oh that he hears in his own head when he thinks about how right it felt to be there with Lea, and only Lea. That he somehow feels entitled to see their child on that screen beside the woman of his dreams... exclusively. It's stupid, of course, since it's supposed to be as much Karl's as it is his- and not supposed to be Lea's, in turn, either.

But it feels like it.

"It's fine, I mean. We worked it out. Don't worry about it, mom."

There's a long silence that seems to stretch across the phone line from one end to the other for miles on end, and Jon feels his heart in his throat, pushing, threatening to come up and out and leave him high and dry with nothing left with which to fend for himself. "I guess that means something totally new now. Even if... I'm not actually going to be a mom." There's another beat, and suddenly it feels as though his stomach knows ahead of time already what she's going to say before she says it. "Karl is going to be a great dad, though."

"He doesn't seem nearly as excited as you are," Jon hears himself say, practically out of his own body as he jumps to her defense. It makes him feel as guilty as she sounds on the other end, and he can't help but wonder what the hell they're even doing, what he's thinking, doing this.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she rushes to reassure him, and he knows she's lying almost instantly. "And if it doesn't work out, you can always rethink the whole gay thing."

"Lea-"

"I know, daddy," she sighs. "We don't talk about that."

They talk regularly, of course, outside of discussing the baby, but every Saturday morning- if it wasn't his favorite before, it certainly is now- she's taken to calling him just to tell him how the baby is doing. She's promised him, of course, that she'd call him the second there's kicking (so he can book a flight to LA and feel it for himself, see if the baby recognizes his or her daddy) or something similarly exciting, but the weekly updates are more routine, little facts about development that always manage to put a smile on his face from 3,000 miles away.

"The baby weighs about as much as a grape right now, and the little embryonic tail isn't there anymore, so that's... good. And there're all the organs, not totally developed yet, but they're there, kind of like the facial features, and- brain waves. Actually... loads of stuff happens during week nine." There's audible scrolling, and he can picture her with her hand on her abdomen as he leans further back on his bed, cuddling a pillow to his front as he listens to her, soft smile playing on his face. "There are fingerprints now, in case he or she ever gets arrested," that makes him laugh, "and... if you were to put your finger in his or her grip right now, you'd feel like a dad. Because those little fingers would hold on and refuse to let go, Jon."

That stops him, and he sits up to run a harried hand through his hair, their last conversation in California echoing in his head. That she's supposed to be here. That she should move in with him and Karl instead of with Stephen, because the ache he feels in his chest at wanting to be with both of them, his favorite girl and their baby, is tremendous. It's a miracle he hasn't been swallowed whole by the weight of it all just yet.

"What was that about?"

Karl's entrances- to no fault of Karl's- have become nerve-wracking. It isn't even that Karl is particularly critical of his phone conversations with Lea, it's that Jon feels like he should be. Like he should feel guilty for spending so much time on the phone with her. He doesn't even know what changed between then and now, how the pregnancy could make such a difference, but it does. In less significant terms, it's like promising to go to the zoo with someone, only to go with someone else

"Oh, um, weekly status report," he mutters, tucking his hair behind his ears and forcing himself off the bed to kiss Karl on the cheek. "Our baby no longer has a tail."

"Well, that's wonderful news," he laughs, and for a moment, Jon feels like nothing has changed, running his hands into Karl's hair and tugging softly with a crooked smile. This is nice, familiar.

"Your hair is getting too long," Jon mutters softly, a complete non-sequitur from his thoughts at the moment, his mind racing just about as fast as his heart is at the thought. "Listen, I know you've been feeling really left out lately what with Lea being in California. I know her lease is running out kind of soon. If she-"

He misses her. And what with her carrying their baby, it almost seems like a reasonable thing to ask of Karl, even if he can't help the lump in his throat at the thought of this betrayal.

"You're suggesting she live with us," Karl laughs, turning in Jon's arms to kiss him, hands at his waist as he smiles. "I don't have a problem with it, Buckaroo. And it's sweet of you to think of me like that."

"Anything for you, right?" he grins, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

"So, we've all been hearing the baby bump rumors by now, including yourself, I'm sure. I know the audience would just love to hear the story behind that as much as myself," Regis laughs.

Lea's smiling face on his TV screen has him leaning forward in his seat, grin on his face. The bump isn't all that evident just yet, though in the dress she's wearing, highlighting all of her curves, it's hard to explain away her slowly burgeoning baby bump as nothing but a big lunch.

"Ha, well! The baby is Jonathan Groff's."

"Isn't he gay?"

"Yes, yes he is," she says softly, nodding. "But it's actually not mine," she laughs somewhat sheepishly. "I'm just the surrogate for him and his wonderful partner."

The way her hands end up on her abdomen almost as though drawn there instinctively has him swallowing hard, jaw set as he leans back in the couch.

"What's going on?" Karl's arms wrap around his torso from behind over the couch as he leans in to nibble at his earlobe, making Jon's shoulders relax just barely.

"Lea's on Regis and Kelly talking about the baby."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, come sit and watch."

"Actually," Lea continues as Jon turns the volume up, "he should be watching right now, since he promised me that he would, so hi, Jonathan!" She waves at the screen, beaming genuinely for a moment, enough so to make him pick up his phone to text her.

Hello to you, too, gorgeous.

He knows she won't get it until later, but he can't help himself, not with the way her baby bump is starting to slowly show itself, like a universal declaration that she loves him enough to carry his child.

Realizing she loves him is like noticing the earth goes around the sun. She should have seen it coming so much sooner- it seems so logical, now that she thinks about it in retrospect. On the other hand, she doesn't know if she would have been able to take the heartbreak of knowing for longer than is already necessary.

Now, the heartbreak tugs at her, insisting. Her arm feels cold against the rim of the toilet, a harried hand tangling in the front of her hair, making a mess of things as she cries. Leaning up to flush the toilet, the stark reminder of the baby inside of her rings more than apparent.

It's Jon. It's always been Jon, and when her phone lights up with Stephen's name, she feels bile rise in her throat all over again, not sure what's just happened to her world, and let alone how to fix it.

"Heeeey, baby. How's my favorite mommy in the world?"

"I miss you," she whispers desperately into the phone, the words almost as good and yet not even remotely close to what she really means to say.

"I miss you, too," she can hear him frown, his tone instantly serious as he hears the broken way her voice sounds. She's been like this ever since the realization has hit her that there's no way out of this, no way to fix being in love with your gay best friend. "What's wrong?"

"The baby's gotten a lot bigger," she swallows hard, closing her eyes as she lets her head fall back against the kitchen counter. "6.7 centimeters this week. Everything still looks good and healthy. The... doctor wanted to show me the ultrasound, but I didn't want to see it. Not... without you there. We're in the second trimester now, and everything is fully formed, and... I have this baby bump that's so much bigger than the last time you saw me, and I keep getting scared that I'll feel it move, or kick, and that you won't be there to feel it, Jon."

The silence on the other end weighs heavily on her, and she takes a deep, shaky breath as she runs her hand into her hair and stalls it there, tugging helplessly. "The baby can even smile now."

Returning the conversation to a neutral topic about the baby doesn't work, not with the way she can hear Jon's slow, calculated exhale on the other end of the line, not when she already knows what he's thinking.

"We'll be there for the next ultrasound. I promise."