After breakfast, Abby's parents excused themselves from the group to do a little extra Christmas shopping. When Holtz's dad got up and got his jacket, Holtzmann got really confused.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Mmhmm," said Dean. "And so are you."

Holtz's face scrunched up in thought. "But I didn't plan anything?"

"I did," he said, smiling. "Come on." Holtz went and got her jacket and headed into the bathroom where Abby was getting out of the shower. She had said she needed to relax in the hot water after breakfast. Holtz kissed her on the lips before leaning down and kissing her growing abdomen. Abby rubbed her cheek.

"Go have fun with your dad sweetie."

"How did you-?"

"A wild guess," said Abby, smiling. She had been that way most of the morning so far. Holtz wanted to stay in and enjoy more of that smile, but New York and her dad were calling.

"Don't touch the presents!" she yelled back after slipping on her jacket and heading out of the bedroom. She heard a small huff that made her cackle before following her dad down the stairs.


Holtz was ready to start munching on a cheese steak (extra caramelized onions and lots of provolone) after her and her dad got seated at the restaurant with a couple of beers and an order of bacon cheese fries to tide them over until their food arrived. They had been out in the city for most of the morning, doing some last minute shopping for Dean's friends back home and sightseeing a little. Holtz had enjoyed showing him all the intricate store windows and the Christmas trees around the city.

"I miss my car," laughed Dean. "It's been a good while since I've had to walk this much."

"At least it's not a really cold day," said Holtz as she looked around the place. She nodded to Ted behind the bar, who waved in return. "No ice on the sidewalks."

"And you don't have to go take care of any ghosts," said Holtz's dad. Holtzmann nodded.

"I hope we don't get any emergency calls over the next few days. Abby and I are the only ones here in the city."

"Things will go smooth enough," said Dean. He cleared his throat. "Getting scared, excited?"

"Frankly? Terrified," Holtz admitted. "There's a new little life that's going to be dependent on me to teach it how to use a pencil and a toilet."

Dean chuckled. "I know the feeling. Your mom did all the hard work for me, I suppose."

"Nah, you taught me how to use a screwdriver. And a crock pot."

"Do you even use one?"

"The screwdriver? All the time."

"Smart ass," grinned Dean. Holtz laughed.

"Babies are hard," the older man said. "You don't know if they're hungry, thirsty, or just tired. And sometimes they don't know."

"At least with food I can hand them off to Abby for a while."

"Abby is going to breastfeed?" asked Dean.

"She thinks it'll be better for them in the long run. She wants to give them a high quality of life in the beginning. At some point in the future, they'll be living on a diet of Chinese, coffee, Pringles, and gummy bears. Also large quantities of mac and cheese, along with many bowls of Trix."

Dean nodded. "The old classic stand-bys."

Holtzmann started picking at the bacon cheese fries with a slight grimace. "Did you enjoy being a parent to me? I know..."

"I would trade nothing in the world for it," said Dean, breaking in. "You and your mother were the most important things in my life. You were so tiny Jillian. I was almost afraid to hold you at first. I thought I was going to drop you."

"Did you? Because I wouldn't be surprised if you did. It would explain some things."

"No," laughed Dean. "But there were times when you got older that you were just... exasperating and we might have felt like it. Especially to your mom when you kept wearing my shirts to school and they'd have grease and grass stains on them by the time you got home. I never did care about that part. They were clothes and you loved them. But she felt like we were setting a bad example that way." He looked at his daughter's clothing choices with a smile.

"I think we did okay."

"You did perfectly. There will never be another one of me."

"I think the Earth will be all the more glad of it," chuckled Dean Holtzmann in a teasing tone. Their lunch arrived and they both dug into their sandwiches, enjoying the hot beef and melting provolone.

"I see why you like this place."

"Yeah, it's one of Patty's finds. I think it just amuses her the place is called Shorty's." Holtzmann leaned back in her chair.

"You doing anything new at work dad?"

Dean wiped his mouth on a napkin after putting down his sandwich.

"I'm working with a tech company that's working with one of the fabric companies I consult for. They're wanting to develop an app that would allow a customer to choose the fabric they want based on some predetermined patterns and colors. But they can edit it to their liking, which is nice."

"Sounds like you're going to be busy."

"If you're asking if I'm going to be too busy to come back down to see my grandchild, that would be a no. Only the snow and ice could keep me away."

"We can always come back for more sandwiches," said Holtz, stacking some of the fries in her sandwich. Dean scoffed and shook his head.

"Alright, but I'm buying next time," he took a sip of his beer. "I want a real pastrami sandwich piled high with lots of pickles." He paused. "I'm not going to get any younger."

"Nah, you're just getting started," said Holtz, waving her hand dismissively. Dean grabbed her hand across the table, shaking his head.

"I wanted to tell you, Jillian. I met with a lawyer and went ahead and drew up my will in October. You- well, you know all the details. We've discussed this before. It's in the safe in my bedroom, along with all the other important paperwork."

"Dad-" began Holtzmann, grimacing.

"All my wishes are in there," said Dean. "I know it's something you don't want to hear right now, but I need you to know this for in the future. And I'm planning on keeping it in the future. The FAR future, okay? I'd like to see my grandchild graduate with their Ph.D.'s in... whatever and start building the first spaceship to carry people outside of the Milky Way or solve world hunger."

"Abby's hoping for first alien contact."

"That's the spirit," said Dean, picking up his sandwich.

"You'd better eat before you lose that to me."

Holtzmann laughed. "Just like old times."

"I gained a lot of your sandwiches that way."

"Nah, I stole them back when you weren't looking."

Dean smiled to himself, knowing that he had looked away on purpose. He took a sip of his beer.


Cynthia Yates came back to the firehouse a little early, leaving her husband to wander the streets of Tribeca a little while longer. Abby had given them her key that morning to the firehouse so they could come and go as they wished for the day. She had wondered what Abby was going to do, but her daughter hadn't let her in on her plans. Cynthia had barely closed the door when she noticed Abby sitting at the long conference table in the space downstairs. She had stacks of paper surrounding her. They looked mostly like notes. Abby was writing furiously in a moleskin notebook and grimacing. An old boom box sat nearby, lightly playing soft Christmas tunes.

"Abby," she said, trying to get her daughter's attention as she walked up to the table.

"Mom," she said after a moment, blinking as she looked up. "Sorry I was-"

"You were busy," said Cynthia, sitting down. "I assume this is all for a new book?"

Abby shook her head. "Erin and I have been talking about trying to redo the ghost classification system. It needs updating. Since we have the containment unit and the ability to study each specimen, we've compiled a lot of a data over the past few years." She gestured to the piles. "We think we can do it. The only thing is how everyone else is going to receive it." Cynthia skimmed over the notes that she could see and crossed her arms, sitting back in the chair.

"I think the scientific community will take it very well. They like order. The paranormal groups, probably not so much."

"They haven't taken to liking us very much no," said Abby, rubbing her face. "They don't like the publicity we receive. It's not like we actively go out and seek it."

"I still say that they should have given you and Erin all the accolades for the stuff you have theorized and tested," said Cynthia. "You have proven there is such a thing as a ghost particle. You have been to another plane of existence and back again, proving it with theory and physical evidence. I keep expecting to get a phone call from you one day in the near future asking me if I'm ready to believe that magic is real."

"Still working on that," said Abby, a small smile on her lips. Things went silent for a few minutes, Christmas tunes taking over the in-between. Cynthia Yates had always been one for science. Having been a chemist, she liked knowing things were concrete in front of her. Otherwise, you had disastrous results. She had never been able to understand her daughter growing up. She had been way too much into the fantastical. Her husband had encouraged it, even helped buy her books and such for her to learn more. But the more Cynthia had tried to steer her away from it, the more she wanted it. It had taken a fight with her husband to finally let go.

And once she had, she realized her daughter thought much like her. She believed in science and facts and loved her math and science classes. She had even wanted her mother to teach her more about everything in the evenings. The only difference was that Abby still believed in the paranormal and the existence of other things in this world besides humans and the animals that had been seen. Cynthia had never been able to bring herself to believe in what her daughter did, and had been slightly disgusted when Abby and her best friend Erin had set out to write a book about ghosts the summer after they had graduated college. She felt guilty now that she had even sold her copy of their book back to the bookstore. Her husband had kept his at least.

Abby's mom picked up one of the stacks of papers. She couldn't understand anything that was going on, but she really didn't have to. This was Abby's life's work. She herself had been a whistleblower and knew the need for concrete results. It made her proud that her daughter and her friends were a whole damn marching band on the subject of the paranormal.

And wife. That had been startling at first. Especially since her daughter's wife was a nuclear engineer whose mind was so brilliant that she was surprised even with the incident at CERN that someone didn't have her on their salary. The things she could invent would make them millions upon millions in revenue and would change the world.

But instead, Jillian had settled for being her daughter's assistant and eventual girlfriend. Although she had never told the woman, she had been grateful that Jillian had come into Abby's life. Erin's departure had hit her hard and the hits just kept on coming after that. It had been a rough few years for Abby and her determination to explore the paranormal.

Cynthia Yates admired her daughter's strength and always would. Especially right now. She couldn't imagine being pregnant at 44. It had been hard enough in her 20's. She had noticed that Abby had kept touching her baby bump as to reassure herself the other evening. She had done the same thing with Austin, but he had been a difficult pregnancy. Even the slightest movement had made her feel better. She wondered if it was the same for Abby.

"Mom, do you need something?" asked Abby, getting her attention away from her thoughts. "Coffee, a snack?"

"Coffee would be great," said Cynthia casually. "Is there a pot down here?"

"Over there at that station behind Kevin's desk," said Abby. Her mom nodded and headed over that way. "You're going to have your grandchild kicking me by the way. I think they respond to the way the smell makes me feel and they get excited."

"Must be the caffeine rush," said Cynthia, looking for the scoop for the coffee. "They might need it as much as we do."

"Yates family tradition huh?"

"I drank way too much of it when I was working. Probably why you and Austin both guzzle it."

"Like Dad didn't help at all," laughed Abby.

"Abby," said Cynthia. "How are you, really? You haven't really said much, not even to your father."

Abby eyed her mother with uncertainty. "It's kind of hard to talk to Dad about swollen feet and aching hips."

"I know he's not going to be able to much of a help, but... you could talk to your father Abigail. We've both been concerned about genetics. How is the baby?"

Abby's arm went across her stomach. "Fine. Good, actually. No problems. The doctor ordered extra tests and everything's been okay. And we're keeping an eye on my blood pressure and blood sugar and nothing's been bad so far. I worried a lot about a miscarriage in the early days. You can ask Holtz. 50% of women over the age of 42 on average have miscarriages in the first trimester. I... worried a lot. Although I don't know how I fit it in between bouts of nausea."

"And you're still having those, aren't you?"

The smell of coffee wafted through the room, making Abby want a cup. But she had already had one with breakfast, and she was limiting herself to only one till after the baby was on solid foods. She nodded.

"Not as often, but they've pretty much been a constant on this whole... journey."

"I feel like I've missed out on so much being in Michigan." She came over and surprised Abby when she put a hand on the side of her abdomen. "I could be here for you."

"You've done a lot Mom," said Abby.

"I don't feel like I've done enough," said Cynthia. "I feel like I've done more for Ariel and you're my actual daughter."

Abby shook her head. "Mom, Ariel had five with Austin. We're only having one."

"Is that all?"

"For the moment, yes," said Abby. She pushed her mother's hand a little bit towards her right side, where their little one she was pretty sure was trying to burrow itself in her organs. She had a feeling in the future their child would probably be making a nest of blankets on their bed and never coming out. Her mother laughed softly.

"Moving quite a bit."

"Tell me about it," grimaced Abby. She looked up and saw her dad enter the space with a couple of bags, just like Abby's mom had. He smiled when he saw his wife and daughter together.

"Coffee?" said Abby.

"Always," said Doug. Cynthia went to pour them a couple of cups. Abby was grateful for the distraction. Maybe her dad could keep her mom occupied till time for their lunch reservations.


Abby was yawning by the time Holtzmann came back into the living room. It was Christmas Eve, not too long before midnight. They had hoped to get a few minutes to themselves before Christmas morning and exchanging gifts with their family. Everything was piling up under the tree, and it was going to be fun getting everything unwedged from each other in the morning.

"Merry Christmas," said the blonde cheekily as she dangled the mistletoe above her head. Abby scoffed.

"And you think you can get a kiss because of that?"

"Oh, I know I can," said Holtz, kissing Abby deep. The moan that left Abby's mouth made Holtzmann grin when they pulled apart more than a few seconds later.

"Because I am the Casanova of the ladies. They all will bend to my will." Abby waved her off.

"Just as long as they're not bending tonight. You and I are going to bed and not moving for seven to eight hours and I'm going to hold you all night."

"Ah... Abby Yates, eternal cuddler is making an appearance." Holtz pulled closer to Abby, rubbing her fingers through her pulled back hair as she curled into her side. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Mom's feeling guilty so she's trying to make me feel guilty. It's not my fault New York is like a magnet for the supernatural." Holtz thought for a second.

"So she's wishing she has spent more time with you while you've been pregnant."

"Apparently," sighed Abby.

"Makes sense," shrugged Holtz. "It is a mother-daughter bonding experience, I guess. You are sharing bearing a child. Maybe she feels like you should be coming to her more for advice?"

"Oh no," said Abby. "That would be the end of everything. Then she'd want to dictate me on this and that, what to be doing, what to not to be doing..."

"Dad told me some good stories today," said Holtz, cutting in to distract Abby. "About Mom being pregnant with me. He said I was very lazy. Doc thought something was the matter with me till I gave him a good kick while he was trying to see how much I had grown."

"That does sound like something you would have done," smiled Abby. "Surprised you didn't kick him again when you were born."

"Oh Dad said I screamed right in his ear when he was trying to check my breathing," grinned Holtz.

"Of course," said Abby, playfully rolling her eyes. Holtzmann rubbed Abby's belly.

"And this little one is probably going to smile at all the nurses and charm them with all the Holtzmann suave they can muster even though they have no Holtzmann in them."

"Someone's got to," said Abby. "I kind of doubt I'm going to be very much on the friendly side."

"I wouldn't be either if I was mostly naked, in pain, and pushing seven to ten pounds out of my body," shrugged Holtz.

"Ugh," said Abby, burying her head into Holtzmann. "Do we have to do that part?"

"I don't think you can skip it Abs. It's kind of a requirement."

"Isn't there an alternative assignment? A makeup exam?"

"Abby, did you EVER give a kid a makeup exam unless they were deathly ill?"

"I don't want to do labor Jills."

"You're going to be fine," said Holtzmann. "I'll be there and there will be more than a few nurses to help out. I still can't believe you let the doctor talk you out of the birth center."

"It's still on the table," Abby said. "Depending on how my labor is going."

"You might want to tell him that," said Holtz. "He probably thinks you're going to go to labor and delivery."

"I think he's worried about my blood pressure shooting up really high or developing pre-eclampsia and gestational diabetes. They can happen late in pregnancy."

"Doctors are such worrywarts," scoffed Holtz, nuzzling her wife. Though she worried about the same things too, she wasn't going to tell Abby that. That would really put her wife over the edge and she really didn't want to have a stressed out and paranoid Abby on her hands.

"You want to open our main gifts?" said Abby. She looked at the time. "It is after midnight." She smiled softly at her wife nuzzling her chest.

"I'd love to Abs, but I'm quite comfortable," winked Holtz.

"I bought you a black leather case to match your jacket," smirked Abby. "It has zippers." Holtzmann perked up at that.

She gestured to the tree. "Yours is flannel. It came with a U-Haul."

"A lesbian joke. Quaint."

"I know, it's the end of the year and I'm running out of material before my New Year's reset." Holtz reluctantly got up off the couch, skipping as she went over to the tree and picked up the stack of presents tied up with a ribbon.

"One for me..." She looked under the tree and picked up a big box. "And one for you." She handed Abby the big box while she sat down beside her with the stack. "You already know what it is. Not like you haven't been hinting for months."

"You get a new toy and I get a new toy," said Abby delightedly. She started unwrapping the box.

"Yes!" cried out Holtzmann beside her as she opened the first gift. "It has spikes!"