From her perch on the counter, Trish heard the front door open. Dez's happy voice rang out through the house. "Hey, babe, I'm home. We finally wrapped up the commercial."

"That's great," Trish responded. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd come home tomorrow night."

Dez laughed. "Couldn't wait that long to come home, not as long as you're around. We just had a lot to do on this one." Dez's voice became more and more distant, and Trish was sure he was following his get-home-late-from-work routine of changing straight into his pajamas.

In a moment, he appeared in his orange and blue paint splot pajamas. "I'm sorry I've been so busy lately. We'll have to go on a date this weekend…" He noticed her, and his tone became suddenly harsh. "What do you think you're doing up there?"

"I was in the mood for some chocolate chip cookies, and somebody put the mix on the top shelf."

"Get down," he ordered sternly. "Let me get it for you."

She moved to a sitting position, her legs dangling against the cupboard fronts. "That won't be necessary. I don't know if you can tell, but the mix is already on the counter. I was just enjoying the view. The dining room table is actually clean for once. Can you believe I actually had the energy to clean the kitchen?" She wasn't sure if her attempts to distract him were successful or not.

She knew it hadn't worked when he continued. "Next time tell me, and I'll get it for you."

By now, she was feeling frustrated. What right did he have to boss her around? "Don't tell me what to do. You might not know this, but I actually like climbing on the counter. Like I was saying before, the view's actually pretty great."

"Please, Trish, don't do it again," Dez pleaded. "I'm glad to do this for you."

At the change of his tone, some of her frustration subsided. His protective attitude was annoying, but he was just concerned about her. "I'm getting sick of you wanting to do everything for me. It was really embarrassing when we were out shopping last night and you wouldn't even let me grab the jalapeño cans. I'm beginning to get the idea that all you want me to do is to sit on the couch and knit."

Dez hopped up on the counter beside her with a bounding leap. "Hey, I could use a new pair of stripped socks. I haven't been able to find any way to get new ones since Granny got arthritis."

She felt her face melt into a smile. It was super adorable when he misunderstood what she was saying. "Dez, I don't know how to knit. That was just a figure of speech."

Dez turned to her with a surprised look on his face. "Yeah, I already knew that," he replied quickly, pointing at her with a flair as he spoke.

"The point is that you're treating me like I'm sick or hurt or something. I'm not. I'm just pregnant. Feel my arm. Come on, Dez, feel it." She forcibly picked up his hand and ran it up and down her arm. "Skin and bones. Not glass. I'm not a china doll. I won't break. You need to stop treating me like I will." She gave his hand a squeeze before putting it back on his lap.

Dez stared at his lap, his hands clenched. "But Esmeralda."

"Esmeralda is fine. Remember what Doctor Fletcher said last week. She's doing great," Trish said confidently.

"I know she's fine today, but how do I know you're not going to fall off a slide tomorrow?"

Trish chuckled. "Fall off a slide, really? When do I even go down a slide?"

Dez's tone was mechanical as he spoke. "I don't know. It just seems like you're always going to the park."

"Dez." Trish reached over and put her hand in his. "I know you're worried, but I'm as excited about this baby as you are…" She smiled remembering Dez's ten minute impromptu tap dance when he learned the results of the pregnancy test. "Well, maybe not quite is much, but I'm very invested. Come on, I'm the one who's suffering the discomfort and pain. Babies make it. Esmeralda is going to be just fine," Trish added firmly.

Dez's eyes wandered to the floor, and the depths of blue had a troubled look in them. His voice shook a little. "Declan didn't. I…I…never got to have a little brother. If….if…something happens to Esmeralda, I might never get to be a dad."

Trish put her arm around him and pulled him close. "I'm so sorry that you never got the little brother you wanted, but I really think Esmeralda is going to be okay."

"That…that's what mom said, but she was wrong. Declan didn't make it. It was horrible, Trish. Mom couldn't handle it. She….she….was always in her room with the door shut, and I just knew I couldn't talk about it or she wouldn't be okay. I felt like crying, but I knew I couldn't."

"Oh, Dez," Trish reached up and ruffled his hair. "I wish I could have been there for you. That must have been so hard. I'm sure your mom wishes she could have done better for you. This situation is not the same one as that one. I really think Esmeralda will be fine, but even if she's not, we'll be. I'm here for you no matter what."

He looked down at her and smiled giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm so glad I married you, Trish."

"I'm so glad I got you too. Listen, Dez, your fears are really annoying me. You can't enjoy this pregnancy when you're so afraid. Besides, I can't stand to be treated like a china doll when I'm a strong woman. Please just trust me not to break. I'm going to be just fine."

"Okay, I'll try. I might not do that great, but know I'm trying," Dez said with a smirk.

"Well for a first step. Why don't test my lips? You know, reassure yourself that they aren't made of glass."

Dez laughed as he bent down to kiss her. "You silly. I know what you're trying to do. Like I haven't been waiting all day to do this..."


Author's note: I've been writing a lot of depressing chapters for Seven Years lately, so I thought I'd go back and write one of these. Unfortunately, I'm stuck on writing heart-broken Dez! :(

On another note, I'm also taking ideas for future one shots for this series. The focus of this series is Trez dating/engagement/wedding/marriage. I can't promise that I'll write everything, but I would love to hear your ideas whether it be a reference or situation or whatever. I generally prefer to do ratings from K-low T.