A/N: I seem to have a bit of writer's block right now, which is why this is a bit shorter than usual! Sorry about that.
"Please tell me that you are not reading a text book to the bump."
"Okay, I won't."
"Maura..."
"It's only a small demographical piece by doctor..."
Eyes rolling the newly arrived brunette sat herself down at the feet of her partner in a less than graceful manner, her butt hitting the floor with a small thunk! She'd only been gone an hour and already Maura was trying to turn their unborn baby into a brain-bump "If you're not following that up with Suess then I'm not interested."
Closing the hefty dust jacket the heavily pregnant woman smiled adoringly and placed it to the side, Jane's remark causing her heart to swell – a pleasant change from the heartburn that liked to plague her. She'd always been certain that her friend would make a fantastic mother, but it was small comments like this that confirmed the notion "Well perhaps you should educate me in the works of the good Doctor, hm?" Clearing her throat as if she were preparing for a dramatic reading Jane placed her hand down onto Maura's stomach as she began "Oh the places you'll go! There is fun to be done! There are points to be scored. There are games to be won. And the magical things you can do with that ball will make you the winning-est winner of all."
"Winning-est?"
"You're spoiling it."
"Sorry," pursing her lips together Maura stifled the grin that was evolving from her previous smile, "Do go on."
"Y'know what, bump? I think your mom is laughing at me."
Maura's hand settled on top of the detective's, fingers splayed out between Jane's to join them as a family "Only because your Madre is being positively adorable, bump."
"Aw Maur, c'mon. I can't have the kid hearin' that. I'm gunna be the one to scare away the boogie-man; I've got to maintain my reputation."
"I can't lie, Jane. If I have a vasovagal episode then I'll be putting the baby at risk, so I have to speak the truth."
"Uh huh, nice excuse Maura."
"I thought so."
Eyes closing, Jane groaned as a wave of realisation washed over her "You're gunna teach our baby big words too, aren't you."
"Well, no. An infant doesn't start speaking until four months at a minimum, and even then I highly doubt she will be ready for anything beyond 'mumma'. It will take eighteen to twenty months for her to string short sentences together... Maybe when she's a toddler..."
"Maura!"
"Oh, was that one of your hypothetical groans?"
"You categorize my groans now?"
"Well, you do have several. One for pain, one for questions you don't want answered, one for when I want you to eat greens, one for when you're sexually frustrated... I suppose those that you make during sex really should have their own subcategory..."
"I do not like them in a box. I do not like them with a fox I do not like them in a house. I do not like them with a mouse..."