"We really need a playpen for her…"

Francisco hummed, trying to follow along with everything Marina was saying, though she was jumping from thought to thought far too quickly for him to keep up. Not that he could really blame her. According to the doctor, the baby could potentially come any time, though they were only around the eight-month mark. His stomach fluttered at the thought: they were going to be parents! But at the same time, that nagging anxiety that had lain dormant in the back of his mind for the last eight months had been coming back out a little more often as the day drew closer. Was he really ready for this? Was he good enough to be a father? After running away from his responsibility, did he even deserve to be a father? What if he messed up, what if he ruined the baby's life?

But when he looked at Marina, leaning heavily against the shelving unit with the playpens, one hand resting on her enormous baby bump, positively glowing as she compared three of the playpens' patterns, he couldn't imagine ever leaving her. She was carrying his child. She had given him this second chance at being the man she needed him to be; he would never give that up.

Marina slowly moved down the aisle, pausing in front of the next group of playpens. Sighing, Francisco trailed close after her, pushing the cart and trying not to catch her ankles. Marina stopped short in front of a playpen with an attached mobile loaded with a dozen different animals, the sides of the playpen decorated to look like a zoo exhibit. Humming to herself, Marina leaned over to read the description, tapping her chin thoughtfully. Francisco raised an eyebrow dubiously, looking down at the well-loaded shopping cart, filled with baby supplies and furniture. How much more could they really need? How much more could Marina cram into her bedroom? His stomach clenched, thinking about his idea.

A couple of Marina's school friends, along with her mother and an aunt, had thrown her a baby shower two weeks ago, and as a result they probably had enough diapers to last a lifetime – at least a dozen boxes were sitting in the basement of her parents' house – and more toys than the baby would ever be able to play with. The Agrestes had sent them enough baby clothes for the baby to wear a different onesie every hour for a month, and Marinette had told him to expect another dozen outfits from the new "Heroes of Europe" line after the wedding. Of those baby clothes, Marina had already given about half of them to Lorena, along with a metric ton of brand-new maternity clothing that Marina was never going to wear. Still the drawers built into the changing table were filled to bursting with clothing, to say nothing of Marina's dresser; if he didn't know any better, he would think Marinette expected Marina to need maternity clothes again soon!

But even after receiving all those gifts, it still hadn't been enough. Although the baby shower had been extremely generous, a few pieces of furniture had still been missing. Today, Marina had picked out even more furniture for the baby today. Crib, combination stroller/baby carrier, toy chest… and now looking for a playpen.

"You know," Francisco pointed out gently, giving her a tender smile, "we don't have to buy everything today. We could wait until after we get back from Paris to look for a playpen."

Marina arched an eyebrow at him dubiously. "You heard what Doctora Lopez said," she argued. "The baby could be here any time. I don't want her to come by surprise and not be ready."

He hummed. "And I don't want to see you push yourself too much and go into early labor." He frowned. "Especially when we're supposed to leave tomorrow for the wedding."

Marina sighed. "I'm sure Marinette would understand if I missed the wedding because I was in labor…"

"Just you?" He furrowed his brows. "I plan to be there, too…"

She smiled, letting out a relieved breath. "I know. But I do appreciate hearing you say it."

Francisco's mouth twisted around, a knot forming in his stomach. A part of him resented the implication that he wouldn't be there… but a larger part of him could only feel shame at the accuracy of the suggestion. Back when he first found out, he would not have been here, shopping for baby supplies with Marina. He would not have wanted to be present for his child's birth. He had abandoned the most important woman in his life, just when she needed him the most. He had returned, but the damage had been done – ever since, he had been trying his hardest to regain Marina's trust. How could he ever have let her doubt him? How could he have put her through so much, so early into the pregnancy?

She hummed, looking off into the distance. "I do hope she waits until after the wedding, though," she admitted. "At least until we get back to Spain."

"I do, too," he agreed, nodding. "I'm really looking forward to getting to travel together – even if it is just as far as Paris."

She raised an eyebrow knowingly and leaned over the cart, toward him. "Oh? And how far would you like to take me?"

"At least as far as the Riviera," he began, placing a hand on her arm. "But ultimately, I want to show you as much of the world as I can."

Marina hummed. "I think I would like that," she murmured. Trying to straighten up, she winced. "Just as soon as this beach ball is out of here!"

Francisco smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I wish there was more I could do to help."

She sighed. "Just being here is help enough," she told him. "I appreciate it so much – having you here to support me and the baby."

He nodded, the anxiety in his chest easing marginally.

"But now, we still need to find the right playpen," she continued, turning away from him and studying the boxes along the front of the display. "Something with a soft floor to lay on, but still some structure to it," Marina mused, leaning against the cart heavily. She frowned. "I don't want to have to buy a brand-new playpen the minute the baby starts walking," she told Francisco. "I'd rather just buy one playpen that will last forever." With a groan, she put her hand on her lower back and pushed herself upright, bracing herself against the shelving unit next to her. "Oh… after this baby comes out, I don't know if my back will ever be the same."

Francisco smiled fondly, watching her as she pushed her back forward, rolling her neck in either direction. Without saying a word, he let go of the cart's handle, his hand trailing along the side of the cart until he took Marina's hand, running his hand up her arm. She hummed a question, cocking her head toward him, and he hugged her tightly from behind, clasping his hands over her baby bump. The baby shifted, and Francisco's eyes widened. Carefully, he shifted his hand around the bump, waiting for the next kick, though it didn't come. "It should still be a month now," he murmured into her ear, kissing the top of her jaw, just below her ear. "Then I won't be able to do this quite as often…"

She squirmed, stifling a giggle. "Stop that!" she chastised him, though without any force behind her words. "We almost have everything we need, but still. If we're really going to be ready when the baby comes, we really need to figure this out. Now, what do you think of this playpen?" she asked, pointed to the one directly in front of her.

He hummed. "It's definitely big enough," he acknowledged. "But is it too big? How will it fit in your bedroom?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean…" He pursed his lips, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. "We already have so much to go in your bedroom… will there be enough room for you and the baby, on top of it all?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I'll just have to… make it work. Where else am I supposed to put it? I need a playpen, or at least something to hold the baby while I'm in my room but occupied – at a certain point, just leaving him in the crib won't be enough. There isn't anywhere else in the house to go with it. Father needs his home office. Mother offered her crafting room, but then where would she put her sewing supplies and quilting supplies and painting supplies and…" She let out a breath. "It's easier to just keep everything in my own room."

He hummed. "What if there was another option?" he asked, kissing the top of her head. "A way for you and the baby to have all the space you could possibly need, without having to worry about taking space away from your parents?"

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she turned around fully to stare up into his face. The corners of her mouth parting into an eager smile, she asked, "Oh? And what did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking," he began. She nodded, gulping anxiously, staring up into his face. "I've been looking into renting an apartment, and the rental rates are pretty good: I can easily afford an apartment on my Agreste salary, even without the commissions. And then, Perry wouldn't have to hide all the time while we're at home; he could have free reign of the apartment." She pursed her lips, her brows furrowing as she stared at him. He swallowed anxiously. "And so, if I am going to rent an apartment," he continued, smiling nervously, "why shouldn't I rent it for both of us?" he asked rhetorically. "We can get a three-bedroom apartment; that way each of us can have our own room, and the third bedroom can serve as a nursery. When the baby is asleep, we could move the crib back and forth between our rooms on a nightly basis – that way you're not having to wake up with the baby every night."

She hummed slowly, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I do like the idea of not having to get up with the baby every night," she admitted. "And it would be nice to have a room for a dedicated nursery so all the baby stuff could go in there…"

"But…" prompted Francisco after a long moment, raising his eyebrow. His stomach clenched. "You don't like the idea."

Her eyes widened. "No – or I mean, yes. But–" Finally she fell silent, her mouth clamping shut. She looked down at the floor and sighed. "I'll have to think about it."

AN: Today's Patrol Log (chapter 1 of Volume 3) is somewhat connected to this story, taking place before tomorrow's chapter 1.