As usual, without a knock, someone entered Sweets' office abruptly that morning.

"Doesn't anyone knock around he-"

"A kid, Sweets?"

"Sorry?"

"You can't have a kid."

Sweets turned around in his chair and looked at the doorway to see Booth standing there, a dubious look in his eyes.

"You're still a kid." Booth stated.

"Agent Booth, I… Who told you?" Sweets asked before he realised the words that were coming out of his mouth. Of course. Doctor Brennan would have told him.

"Bones told me – look, Sweets… what are you doing?" Booth asked.

"Uh, going over some material for my next client, why?" Sweets replied, turning back to his desk. Booth walked over to him and swung his chair back around, crossing his arms.

"You know what I mean, Sweets." he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Agent Booth, I don't feel I'm at the liberty to discuss-"

"Do you want a kid? I'm asking you, not Daisy. You." Booth said. Sweets looked at Booth before staring at the floor and sighing. He stood up and walked over to the other side of the office.

"Of course I do. But then… there's this." Sweets stated.

"There's what?" Booth asked. Sweets turned around and gave Booth a dubious look.

"The whole You're still a kid spiel. When people yours and Doctor Brennan's age have kids, nobody asks questions." Sweets started.

"You calling me old?" Booth asked.

"No! I just… Sure, we're young. But we're stable – who's to say we can't raise a child?" Sweets asked.

"Nobody is, Sweets." Booth said.

"So why are you here?" Sweets asked once more.

"I'm not saying you can't raise a kid, Sweets. I just want to make sure that it's what you want, not just what Daisy wants." Booth replied. Sweets developed a little smile on his face and he crossed his arms.

"Are you saying you care about what happens to me?" he asked.

"Don't push it, Sweets." With a swift smack in the arm, Booth left the office. Sweets gave himself a little smile and returned to his work.

Sweets returned home later that night to a quiet apartment.

"Daisy?" he called. He got no response, so he walked into the apartment slowly, and as his eyes flicked over the figure on the couch, he couldn't help but laugh.

Daisy had fallen asleep on the couch, but before she had, she had obviously been exploring what it would look like if she got pregnant.

A cushion was shoved up under Daisy's shirt, her hands resting on it in slumber.

Daisy stirred slightly, and her eyes opened to see the wide smile on Lance's face.

"Hey, Lance, I – Ohmygod."

Daisy sat up and instantaneously pulled the pillow out from underneath her shirt. Her cheeks heated up and she blinked up at Lance.

"I… Well, I… I didn't mean to…"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Daisy. I'm not asking you to." Lance reassured her, sitting down next to the brunette and putting his arm around her.

"I don't know what I expected, Lance." she murmured.

"Daisy, you've got to give it time." he replied, and she sighed and nodded, wrapping her arms around his midsection.

"I know. And you told me not to get my hopes up and I didn't listen to you and I did get my hopes up and I-"

"Daisy, it's okay." Lance leant over and kissed Daisy gently on the temple.

"Really." he murmured. Daisy gave a great sigh and shut her eyes gently.

"How was your day?" she asked. Lance gave a sigh not dissimilar to Daisy's and she sat up like a shot, a worried look in her eyes.

"Lance, what is it? What happened?" Her voice was filled with worry.

"No, nothing, just…"

"Just what?" She prodded further.

"Agent Booth came to talk to me today. Doctor Brennan told him about… us." Lance shifted slightly uncomfortably in his seat.

"And what did he say?" Daisy asked.

"Nothing, we just… he started off with the whole You're having a kid and you're just a kid yourself thing, but it turned out alright. I think." Lance raised an eyebrow and Daisy did in turn.

"You think? Baby, you're a psychologist – you read people for a living." Daisy said.

"I don't think anyone could read Agent Booth, Daisy." Lance said, sighing again. Daisy flopped back down next to him and closed her eyes.

"Good point, Lancelot."

Daisy was scheduled to work at the Jeffersonian the next morning, but before she left for work, she sat down quietly in the living room, taking a pen and an old notebook and beginning to write.

Hi.

I don't quite know who I'm saying hi to, but nevertheless… hi.

I just want to make something clear here – I love Lance. I love him a lot, but… he's a psychologist. And he doesn't judge, but he analyses. And I quite like that paper can't talk back and be all psychoanalytic and Freudian on me (see, I pay attention.)

My name is Daisy. Daisy Wick. And, recently, my partner Lance Sweets and I decided that we were going to try and have a child. We've been trying for nearly two months now, and nothing. But, you know, I'm going to keep my hopes up.

Lance has told me not to keep my hopes up too high, but it's in my nature.

A lot of people have told me that. And the fact that I'm peppy.

Oh well!

I always kept journals in high school… mainly because I didn't have many friends… and the fact that I spent most of my days in the library…

Never mind that!

But I want to keep this journal. Maybe I get pregnant, maybe I don't – but I want to be able to look back on this and remember all the ups and the downs.

So, that's it for my first entry. If I'm late for my shift at the Jeffersonian, I'm toast.

Much love, Daisy.

Daisy shut the journal and sighed, walking back into the bedroom and putting it in her bedside drawer. Sure, she hadn't written much in there, but it was a start. It was her safe haven, and she wasn't sure how important it was going to be over the next few months.

But, for now, she had to work.

She shut the drawer and left the room, switching off the light with a small, contented smile.

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay, and I'm sorry the shapters are so short. It' just so time consuming writing a big, long, 1500 word chapter. But, I'll try to make each chapter at least 1000 words, okay? Deal.