A name-choosing chapter, for a tumblr prompt.

"What about Carol? And Carrie for short? What? Why are you wrinkling your nose?" she asked him, "Don't you like Carrie?"

They were tucked up together under the bedspread. It was their third Sunday in their cottage. He was still wearing his dressing gown, he had slipped out of bed to bring her some tea and jumped straight back in once he had done so. But now, he was, he was wrinkling his nose in disapproval.

"What's wrong with Carrie?" she pressed him.

"Carrie Molesley?" he asked her, "It doesn't sound right. It's the "ee" sound."

She gently stroked her protruding stomach.

"Well, she can change it if she wants to go onto the stage," she told him softly.

"Our daughter is not going on the stage," he told her firmly, "Not if I have anything to do with it. She's going to go to school so she can have a good job."

"You sound like Mr Carson," she told him, smiling.

He took ahold of her hand gently.

"And what if I do?" he asked her quietly, "I want more for our daughter than we had. Is that wrong of me?"

She looked up at him.

"Of course not, Joseph," she told him quietly, "Of course it's not."

He leant in towards her. Kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips. She pulled away, a fraction.

"I still like Carrie, though."

He huffed visibly, moving his head back sharply in frustration and she chuckled.

"You like Maisy," she told him, "And that has an "ee" sound too!"

"Yes, but the M's take care of it," he told her.

"You know that makes no sense whatever?" she asked.

"Yes, it does!" he insisted. She raised her eyebrows in reply, and he swiftly went on, "You do know, if we're wrong and it's a boy all this planning will be for nothing?"

"I know," she replied, "But I have a feeling she's a girl. And so does Mrs Patmore."

"How would she know?" he asked her.

She shrugged.

"I have no idea. But she seems pretty certain."

"How do you fancy Beryl for a name?" he asked her.

"I think there's only room for one Beryl in that kitchen," she replied.

He smiled at her.

"You're probably right," he replied, "But I like the idea of naming her after someone… Not the family, though."

"Oh, thank God you said that," she told him, looking at him warily.

"We may share some opinions, but you are not, in fact, married to Mr. Carson," he told her.

She burst out laughing.

"And thank God for that!" she told him. She squeezed his hand tightly in hers, lifting it up to her lips, kissing his fingers and looking back at him over his knuckles, "He could never make me laugh like you do. No one can."

Gently disentangling his hand, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her to him, resting his other hand gently on her stomach.

"We've got a little bit of time yet," he told her softly, "We don't need to decide anything now."

"No, you're right," she agreed, "There's plenty of time for you to come round to my way of thinking."

She heard him laughing softly by her ear and a smile spread across her face.

"Just imagine how much we're going to disagree about godparents," he told her softly.

"I was thinking Mr and Mrs Carson," she told him.

"So was I," he replied.

She looked at him in surprise.

"Do you?"

"Yes," he told her, "Who else?"

A grin spread across her face.

"Well at least we've managed to decide on something," she told him.

He extended his hand to her in mock seriousness.

"Productive morning, Mrs Molesley," he told her, shaking her hand.

"Thank you, Mr Molesley," she replied with too much earnestness, before bursting out laughing, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him forwards to kiss him.

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