Hey guys! Thanks for all the reviews and feedback... I'm loving it all :) So in this chapter, fast forward three whole months where Emma is nine months preggo... which means... well...

enjoy!

The Saturday sunlight fell on her face as she slept. Her eyes were closed, a peaceful smile draped her lips, her curls were splayed across her pillow like a red halo. Will gasped at her beauty, her huge stomach, her whole entire person was just so beautiful. It was almost breathtaking. He reminded himself to never lose her. He almost had lost her once, and even that had been too much. Was there any point to anything without Emma? Seemingly, no.

She stirred away gently as he stroked her cheek with his index finger. Her skin was smooth under his touch, and he smiled. As soon as her brown eyes sleepily pulled themselves open, she grinned.

"Hi," she whispered through her smile. Will pulled her as close as possible, considering her huge stomach. She laughed.

"I can barely kiss you!" he joked, kissing her lips and her cheeks. "Good morning, baby."

"Good morning Will," she offered, gently pulling the covers back. "What time is it?"

"Six thirty seven," Will answered, glancing at the clock. He knew Emma liked to be up at five forty five every morning, when their alarm clock blared. But he had shut it off quickly as soon as it woke him, knowing Emma needed her sleep that Wednesday morning. She hadn't even heard the alarm go off, and he knew she couldn't be too angry.

"Geez, Will!" she sat up abruptly, then winced and slowly slid back down to a lying down position.

"Em? Are you alright?" he asked, darting out of bed and over to her side, standing beside her and holding her hand as he eased his wife out of her resting place.

"Yeah," she said, obviously trying to hide pain. He could tell by her voice, he could read her like a book. "Fine. Just... hurts a little. They're really kicking this morning, is all," she added, explaining herself. It sounded, however, like she was trying to convince herself of this more than her husband.

"Alright Emmie," he said, hugging her close. "But if something hurts Emma, honey, you need to tell me because you are nine whole months pregnant Emma, and Friday you're going to be full term, so we should get you to a hospital if you feel like you're--"

"I'm not going into labor, Will, I think I would know," she snapped, pulling angrily away from him and stomping off into the bathroom. She had been a little snappish lately, always nervous and on edge about herself giving birth.