A/N: Just a head's up, italics = dream. Personally, I think it's obvious, but I've had it pointed out to me that my brain doesn't work like everyone else's.
It's amazing how many people get pregnant when they have another child still in diapers. Nine kids, none of them older than five, run around the small waiting room, shifting through a trunk full of germ covered toys, a breeding ground for pink eye and staphylococcus. Reid counts the number of kids still in diapers running back and forth from their mothers, all in various stages of pregnancy. Four, and that's just right now, in this office, on a Wednesday morning.
Listening as one of the four starts crying for reasons unseen by Reid, he silently thinks All the more power to you, ladies. There's no way he would be sane enough, strong enough, or willing to handle more than one toddler at once. His time with Henry had made that perfectly clear.
Resting his head back on the beige stucco, he lets out a tired sigh. They've already been there for an hour and a half, only to see two women go back to see the doctor while twelve more filed in to fill the waiting room. This isn't his first time here. He's been here several times before, but this time is a little different. Emily's far enough along that the doctor should be able to determine the sex of the baby, if the baby's in the right position.
No more wondering. No more magic eight ball. Just a simple boy or girl. If the baby's in the right position. Reid likes knowing things, and Emily isn't too good when it comes to patience, so it would probably be best for both of them to know right away whether Garcia can start buying little dresses or miniature, faux-leather jackets.
For some reason, the music playing over the speakers shuts off, making the ambient noise of the waiting room appear all the more louder. Emily steadily reads the book she had brought with her. Reid had already read it, and had purposefully left all of his belongings, save his phone, in the car. He hadn't planned on it taking this long.
He lifts his head up from the wall when he feels movement near his left knee. Looking down, he sees a little boy, big blue eyes shining up from an Oreo smeared face as he shakes a magazine in one hand only to leave it crumpled and torn in the vacant seat next to Reid. As soon as the blue-eyed boy leaves, a little girl with equally blue eyes, runs up and grabs the magazine before running back to sit next to a woman playing on her iphone.
He leans his head back on the wall, smiling when he sees Emily impatiently check her watch. She's done it every ten minutes, almost like clockwork. 8:49. 8:59. 9:09. Now, it's 9:19 and they're still waiting.
"Emily Prentiss." A nurse in dark brown scrubs accented by pale blue calls out in a well-practiced false cheerfulness. She smiles as Reid and Emily follow her into one of the back rooms, asking how they're doing with enough sincerity that, if they didn't know better, they might actually think she cares.
Reid leans against the wall as Emily sits in the chair, offering her arm so the nurse can take her blood pressure and check her temperature. Emily takes off her shoes, steps on the scale and waits as the nurse writes down her weight, assuring her that it's perfectly healthy for her to have only gained four pounds so far. Emily doesn't flinch when the nurse draws blood, but she does wrinkle her nose, which causes Reid to laugh. He's pretty sure those tattoos she has hidden hurt a lot more.
Next, they're brought to an exam room, and Emily sits on the bed, Reid taking the chair next to her, her bag resting on his feet as they wait. "I hope we can see what it is," she whispers to the wall, and Reid isn't sure if she meant to say it out loud or not. He nods in silent agreement, a small anxious feeling creeping into his gut at the thought of not knowing for another five to six months.
Emily glances down towards Reid, one leg bouncing dangerously fast while he bites his lower lip—definitely full of nervous anticipation. "You know, if you keep that up, you're liable to wear a hole in the floor." She lets the smile play out on her lips as he turns confused eyes towards her, blushing slightly when he realizes what she's saying.
Wiping his hands on the fabric covering his knees, he clears his throat. "I'm just anxious. I'm ready to know."
Emily nods her head, "Me, too. I know Garcia's ready for us to know, too." If any one were to ask Garcia, the last month had taken twice as long to pass as any other. At one point in time, she had declared to nobody in particular, "Christmas will freaking get here before we figure out what the baby's going to be." Reid had been wise enough to know she was just venting her frustration and didn't point out that the baby is actually due well before Christmas.
"Are you going to call your mom after we know?" he asks, remembering the surprisingly long phone call where Emily had finally revealed to her mother that she was having a baby. Elizabeth Prentiss had once again let her true feelings known in the guise of subtle hints and broad statements, but only slightly. Mostly due to the fact that she was actually excited about the prospect of a grandchild, the father of which being a certifiable genius with a respectable career. Emily had ended the phone call in tears, shaking off Reid's concerned hand on her shoulder, declaring that she was almost certain the tears were happy. The fact that the ambassador had finally been given an assignment put her well out of the country, which probably helped the tension between the two women.
"If we learn what the sex is, then yes, I'll call her." Emily doesn't mention that she'll write Diana whether she knows or not. Two weeks after sending her letter to Reid's mom, both Reid and Emily had been surprised when a small envelope had arrived in the mail, return address marked Las Vegas. Diana had written two letters, one addressed to Reid and one to Emily, explaining how happy she was for them, wishing them the best of luck, and thanking Emily for including her. Since then, Emily has written Diana regularly. Not everyday like Reid, but at times when something significant happens: when she first noticed she was showing, the first time they heard the baby's heartbeat, or when the baby had first started to move.
She almost laughs when she notices Reid has started shaking his leg again. She does laugh when she realizes that she has started doing it, too. She forces her leg to stop moving the moment she hears the handle of the door turn, and Dr. Pate walks in, all smiles as she reaches out to shake their hands.
"Emily, Spencer, it's good to see you again. Are you excited?" she asks, and unlike the nurse, they can tell that she is generally interested. Dr. Pate is one of those rare doctors that actually enjoys her job, actually caring about the patients' feelings, and shares the excitement they feel in becoming new parents.
She washes her hands, and dries them as she kicks the rolling stool towards the exam table, smiling the entire time. She picks of up the chart, flips through a few pages and smiles again. "So you're doing good with weight gain, it probably wouldn't hurt if you gained a little more. Your blood work looks good, blood pressure a little high, but that's normal." She gives a running commentary on her thoughts as she looks at each page, asking if Emily or Reid have any questions and answering when they do. Eventually, she sets the chart back down, and grabs a new pair of gloves. "Alright, are you ready to see what we can see?"
"Very," Emily answers, leaning back on the table and raising her shirt, giving Dr. Pate access to perform the ultra sound. Reid leans his elbows on the side of the exam table, resting his mouth against his fingers as the doctor turns on the machine and squeezes a large amount of translucent, blue gel onto Emily's exposed stomach. At first, there's nothing but a mixture of blacks, grays, and whites—too distorted to discern exactly what they're looking at.
Emily doesn't have to have it pointed out to her this time. Their little black speck has transformed over the weeks. When the obvious outline of a baby's head appears on the screen, the profile showing a small button nose, Emily's hand quickly reaches for Reid's wrist, squeezing tightly. Reid keeps still, his eyes never leaving the screen as Dr. Pate explains what they're looking at. She moves the wand to the other side of Emily's stomach, trying to get a better angle.
When Emily sees the small outline of a foot, she laughs—a short, happy laugh. She can count five toes. A few minutes later, Dr. Pate looks away from the screen, smiling a smile that would rival Garcia's. "Do you want to know the sex?"
"You can see?" Emily asks, having lost the ability to recognize the shapes on the screen. With Dr. Pate's small nod, Emily looks to Reid, and resists the knee-jerk reaction to roll her eyes when she sees the look on his face. "You already know what it is, don't you?"
A small smile forms on the corner of his mouth, but he doesn't say a word, settling instead for shrugging one shoulder. Emily wants to frown, but can't keep from smiling. "Well then one of you better tell me," she demands, though there's no harshness to her tone.
Dr. Pate uses the computer's mouse to point the curser to a small area of the screen, "It looks like you're having a girl."
Reid looks to Emily, watching her face as the words sink in. Though she's grinning, Reid can see the telltale sign of tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It isn't until she squeezes his wrist again, shaking his arm that he can really see how happy she is. Her grin morphs into a full-blown smile, and she doesn't try to hide it when one of the tears makes it's way down her cheek. "We're going to have a daughter," she whispers, and once again, Reid can't tell if she meant to say it out loud.
Knowing that they had a doctor's appointment scheduled, Hotch had given them the entire day off, telling them that if something came up, he'd call them in. Doctor's appointment now out of the way, Reid and Emily slowly make their way to the parking lot, each a little high on adrenaline. Emily quickly texts Garcia, letting her know it's a girl, and then looks at her watch the moment the text is sent. Thirteen seconds is all it takes for Emily's phone to start ringing, Garcia eager to share in the excitement, and offer the future parents a truly heartfelt congratulations.
Reid is silent the majority of the car ride, only speaking up when asking Emily if Thai food is okay for lunch. Other than that and a quick call to phone in their order, he drives in silence, listening to Emily's animated joy as she speaks to Garcia and then JJ. Even after all these years, he very rarely sees Emily show true emotion.
He had caught glimpses of it when their relationship first began, most of it being unintentional. Slowly, she began to let her guard down, trusting him to see what she was feeling. However, it wasn't until they learned that they were going to have a baby that she opened up enough to reveal her emotions on a daily basis, even going so far as to share them with the rest of the team. He knows it's probably just the enormity of the situation, the fact that they're bringing another person into the world who hadn't existed before. The idea has him allowing his guard to slip on occasion; the feeling can only be stronger for Emily, who's actually carrying the baby.
She's hanging up the phone as he puts the car in park outside the small Thai restaurant that knows his name and order by heart. She's staring at the phone, fingers dancing over the smooth touch screen, and he knows she's trying to gather the strength to call her mother. "I'll be right back," he says, knowing that there's no point in trying to coerce her into making the call. When it comes to Emily's mom, he's favorable of the watch and let happen kind of approach, mostly because that's all Emily will allow.
She nods her head, letting him know she heard him, and he slips out of the car, turning once to see her bring the phone up to her ear as she lets out a heavy sigh.
The restaurant is crowded, and he sits in one of the chairs next to the door as he waits for them to finish preparing his order. His mind drifts back to Emily and her reaction to hearing about having a girl. He remembers wondering about whether or not Emily would be upset if they had a girl, but all concern was thrown out the window when she smiled as the doctor handed her a printout of the ultrasound. Apparently, Emily had forgotten that she had told Garcia that she was hoping for a boy.
Reid remembers telling Garcia that he didn't prefer one over the other, but as the man behind the counter smiles and tells him that his order's ready, he can't help feeling an overwhelming gladness that the baby's a girl. Part of him wonders if he would have felt the same had it been a boy.
He pays for the food and hurries out to the car. He climbs in and hands the bag to Emily who immediately reaches in for the small container of appetizers. "My mom says to tell you 'hi'," she says, smiling and offering no sign that the call was anything but pleasant. Reid just smiles, asking, "How's she doing?" as he starts the car, and checks his blind spots before backing out of the parking space.
He listens to Emily relay the short conversation as he eases the car into the busy street, preparing for the long ride home thanks to lunchtime rush hour in DC. He feels the adrenaline start to ease away, his body slowly relaxing into sleepiness as excitement morphs into a surreal state of being. By the time they pull onto Emily's street, he's ready to eat and sleep, despite the fact that it's still early in the afternoon.
Emily seems to make no objection as he slips off his shoes and makes his way for the bedroom after finishing off his share of the take-out. The night before had granted him little sleep, mostly thanks to the late night at the office, wanting to make sure he wouldn't get too far behind on paperwork and partly thanks to the excited anticipation he had felt at possibly knowing about the baby. He realized early on that he felt anxious each time Emily had a doctor's appointment. It was always a relief to hear that things were going okay, that their baby was healthy, that Emily was healthy, that it all isn't a dream tricking his mind into craving an alternate reality he was steadily growing to expect and couldn't live without.
Reaching for the spare blanket tossed on the foot of the bed, Reid climbs in, happily lying on his stomach as he lets the last remnants of adrenaline fall away and gives in to the welcome release of sleep.
He never really liked the beach, there was always too much sand—weird considering he's from Vegas, a city formed right in the middle of a desert. Now, as he watches the waves come in, steadily making their way closer and closer to his bare feet with each crash of the tide, he feels the resentment towards the sand even more.
It's grainy, messy, and it clings to your clothes and the inside of your shoes. It's also hard to run in. It slows you down. No matter how hard you try to keep up your speed, force your muscles to move, the sand will always slow you down. It's a hindrance.
He looks down the beach to see Emily standing a short distance away, the waves rising to meet her feet as her face looks out towards the sea. He watches as she turns and walks away, heading towards a small bundle resting just out of reach of the approaching waves. She picks it up, and Reid realizes it's a baby. He doesn't know how he knows, he just does. Like all dreams, he knows enough, and nothing more. Morpheus was a need to know kind of guy. Emily is holding their daughter, walking further down the beach, steadily putting distance between herself and Reid.
Eventually, she sits down, looking once more towards the horizon before letting her eyes fall to the baby in her arms. She smiles, and Reid sees that rare glimpse of emotion she's slowly learning to reveal. She looks up and meets his eyes, grinning a smile that only speaks of joy.
A glimpse of movement catches his attention, forcing his eyes to move away from his family. He feels his stomach ache, a sharp pain caused by panic and worry when he sees the figure making his way towards the woman and child sitting near the waves. Reid knows this man, he watched him die.
He starts to move, tries to get to Emily before the other man can. The sand is slowing him down, making it difficult to run. Grey-blue eyes look at him over a lecherous smile as a hand reaches for Emily, the outline of a shamrock tattoo peeking beneath the fabric at his wrist.
Reid opens his eyes, surprised that he hadn't jumped up in bed. He doesn't know what woke him up, but he's thankful nonetheless. He can tell by the light filtering through the room's large window that he's slept for several hours, much longer than he had intended. His body is sore, but the racing of his heart forces him to give up the idea of returning to sleep, not that he was willing, anyway. One look around the room and the sound of the living room's TV lets him know that Emily is still awake.
He stands and rearranges his shirt, which had somehow managed to get twisted around his torso. Rubbing his hands over his tired face, he makes his way towards the living room. Emily's resting against one end of the couch, her feet stretched out towards the opposite end as an opened case file rests in her lap. She has the coffee table pulled up close to her, giving her easy access to the remote control and small bowl of pineapple slices sitting on top. Despite the TV being on, all her attention is focused on the file in her lap, her pen tapping on the edge of the paper as she thinks of what to write.
The sound of Reid's shuffling feet causes her to look up, smiling at the rumpled clothes and messy hair. "Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty. Did you rest okay?" she asks in between a mouthful of pineapple.
Forcing his conscious mind to ignore the nightmare that woke him from sleep, Reid stretches out his long arms, smiling as he sits on the couch, pushing Emily's feet out of the way. "Yeah, I didn't mean to sleep that long."
He looks at the TV, frowning when he doesn't recognize what she's watching. She mutes the TV, and he turns to look at her, frown increasing when he notices her scrutinizing gaze. She's studying him, and he knows it. He also doesn't like it, because, as it's been pointed out on more than one occasion, he isn't good at lying. "You don't look like you slept well." Her voice isn't accusing, but it still isn't questioning. She knows he hadn't slept well the night before, and when she had gone in the bedroom to change clothes, he had a slight crease in his brow, telling her he wasn't resting as comfortably as he should have been.
He lets the frown ease up when he notes the concern in her eyes. "It's fine. Maybe that just means that I'll sleep better tonight."
"Did you have a nightmare?"
He forces his reaction to be calm, and he's pretty impressed when he succeeds in not jerking his head to the side, flashing her with an alarmed, deer caught in headlights look at how quickly she had figured it out. "It wasn't that bad, I've had them before." He has had them before, long before he even met Emily. He's had nightmares about babies and children. It's a constant in their line of work. Nightmares had even prompted the conversation that started his relationship with Emily—it's why he isn't ashamed to admit to her that he has them.
He just hasn't had them in a while-a long time actually. And never before has his child been the one in danger.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks, sitting aside the file and pushing her toes beneath the warmth of his leg.
"Not really," he answers, reading along with the closed captioning flashing across the bottom of the TV screen. Emily ignores his attempt to end the conversation, and reaches for another slice of fruit. "Was it about me?"
Reid sighs, closing his eyes before he turns to look at the woman sitting next to him. She has her both eyebrows raised questioningly, waiting for an answer. His lips quirk up in an unintentional grin, hating the way she forces him out of his comfort zone, but not minding all the same. "You're not going to let this go are you?"
"Sure I will," she says, biting into the slice of pineapple, bringing her hand up to catch the juice. "As soon as you tell me what the dream was about."
Rolling his eyes, he leans back against the couch, letting his hand come up to rest on her knee. "I dreamed that Doyle went after you and the baby."
She slowly chews the last bite of the pineapple, thinking over the implications of his dream. Her instant reaction is to remind him that Doyle is dead, but she knows he already knows that. He's not worried about Ian Doyle getting them, he's worried about the next Ian Doyle. Another monster that has yet to have a face or a name. "Reid, nothing bad is going to happen."
He quirks an eyebrow at her, fighting the urge to remind her how often bad things tend to happen to them and the people they know. They both have the scars to prove it. Sensing what he's thinking, Emily quickly amends her previous statement. "I know it's a possibility, but it's not something you can let keep you up at night. We're going to take care of our baby, and I can still take care of myself."
"I don't remember saying that you couldn't," he says, keeping his tone even to match hers.
"I know, that's because you're a smart guy. I'm just reminding your subconscious." She laughs and tries to pull her leg away when he squeezes at her knee. She regrets the moment he realized she was ticklish there.
"I've been telling my subconscious for years to cut me some slack, and it hasn't listened. But hey, if you think it'll listen to you, go ahead."
She reaches her hand up towards her knee, squeezing his fingers. "Reid, I know there aren't any guarantees in anything we do. I can't promise you that nothing bad will ever happen to her," she lets her other hand run across her stomach, liking that she now knows to say 'her', "But we try our best to keep her safe, learn from our mistakes and watch each other's backs."
Reid nods his head, squeezing her fingers in return. "Sounds like a plan."
"Good, 'cause it's all I got." She says, sitting forward and resting her arms on her knees.
"It's more than I had," he admits through a smile, leaning in and kissing her, tasting the pineapple.
She grabs the remote and turns the volume back on as she repositions herself on the couch, letting her weight lean against his side.
"What are you watching?" he asks, as what appears to be two teams of people crawling through a slime covered obstacle course.
"I have no idea. The TV was on for background noise." She gives him the remote and watches as he quickly turns it to the science-fiction channel, smiling when she recognizes the classic movie.
They settle in, choosing to spend the rest of their day off watching TV and eating leftovers, occasionally tuning out the TV to discuss the fact that they're having a daughter. A little girl. They talk about how spoiled she'll be, the very real likelihood that Garcia will try and influence the child's fashion sense, the fact that she'll still be able to kick but—girl or not. Neither mentions the possibility of the next Ian Doyle.
A/N: Thanks to all the reviews. It really does motivate me to write. By the by, I'm trying really hard to get this story to the end. I'm thinking maybe five or so more chapters, the outline's still a bit rusty.