Danny woke to Sam looking at herself in mirror on the wall with a look of disapproval on her face.

"Danny?" she asked, still facing the mirror.

"Hm?"

"Do you still find me attractive?"

"Oh, Sam," he said, walking up to her, arms snaking around her waist, embracing her topless back, burying his face in her neck, "You'll always be beautiful to me."

"Please don't." She said as Danny moved his hands from her waist to her breasts.

"I'm sorry." He said, removing them, bringing them to the top of her belly. "Tender?"

"A little. I love you."

"I love you, too." Danny said as Sam turned her face to him. He kissed her on the cheek. Danny felt her belly give a little push against his hand. "I think someone wants to say 'good morning.'"

"Good morning." Sam said as she spoke to her tummy.

"You know, Danny," Sam said that afternoon, "doctors say that when the fetus reaches six months, it can hear external noises even though it's still inside the womb. They recommend playing music and reading to the baby, since it's believed that it helps raise the child's IQ."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that we may want to follow their advice. I bought these at the Salvation Army today when I went to drop off those old jackets." She said as she dumped a grocery bag full of "Clifford the Big Red Dog" and "Curious George" books.

"I used to love these books as a child." Danny said with a wistful grin, picking up one of the "Clifford" stories.

That night, Sam and Danny sat lengthwise, Sam dozing in Danny's lap as they listened to some soothing music.

"Danny?"

"Hm?"

"Remember when we fought Ember and Youngblood because of music like this?"

"Yes."

"I remember…" She said as she closed her eyes, her head falling into his chest, fast asleep. Danny eased himself out from under her. Once free, he scooped her up bridal style and carried her to bed. He kissed her on the forehead and bade her good night.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A/N: Sorry the chapter was so short. I couldn't think of anything else to write when it comes to this trimester. The next one, though… oh boy. Mood swings, aching feet, tears. Poor Danny. Oh, and Sam's going to be having some trouble too. Oh, this is going to be fun,