Author's Note: This... got a little convoluted on me, but I couldn't find a good way to take this prompt other than this one, so here it is.

"Before you say anything, I know you're mad at me," Frank said as he approached his wife in the kitchen. Nancy didn't usually go to all the trouble of making a meal with one of Hannah's recipes and setting up the table with candles and decorations. This was not an ordinary occasion, but he'd ended up with an ordinary occurrence—routine for them, frustrating for those around them that wanted the more normal aspects of life, predictable schedules and people who were actually home for dinners and not out embroiled in mysteries and cases.

"I am."

"And I know I screwed up. That was obvious the moment I walked in the door."

"Your detective skills are legendary, Hardy, but that does not mean—"

"You want to hear about them when they are what made me late for the special evening you specifically requested I be here for and without my usual companion who seems to think he lives here most of the time?" Frank asked, seeing her fight a smile for just a minute before squashing it out. "I'm sorry. I did manage to come without Joe, but only because he was so tired when it was all done he just about passed out on me. It could have been worse. One of us could have been bleeding or in the hospital or—that already occurred to you and is half the reason you're upset right now."

Nancy nodded. She ran her fingers through her hair. "Normally, I don't freak out—I like to think I don't—because we both know what we're capable of and what we get into, and while we're aware of the risks, we accept them and don't stop each other from doing what we need to do even if we worry sometimes. It's just... You're the responsible one. You said you'd be here. You weren't. It... It got to me."

Frank grimaced. "The only casualty of the night was my phone, which definitely did not make it out alive or I would have called hours ago."

"Maybe we should all carry two."

"Maybe."

Nancy snorted. "Or maybe I'll just blame hormones and forget I was foolish enough to make this dinner and think I needed it or to worry as much as I did or—"

"Hormones?" Frank interrupted, his mind catching onto that word and holding it with a startling possibility jumping to the forefront. "Wait—did you plan all this because you had something special to tell me... like about... a baby?"

Nancy flushed. "I... Yes."

He thought about teasing her for being so nervous about his reaction, but under the circumstances, he didn't think that was a good idea. "Am I forgiven enough to where I can kiss you?"

"Yes," she said, but she stopped him before he could. "This... does mean you're happy about this, doesn't it?"

He put his hand on her stomach and smiled at her. "I couldn't be happier, I promise—as long as you really have forgiven me."

Her answer to that was to kiss him.