Emily had never been the most popular girl in school.

Partly because she'd transferred in the middle of the previous year after being in Italy for the past three years and Russia for two before that and Kuwait before that. Partly because she was socially awkward and weird and self-deprecating and liked quoting Vonnegut at inappropriate moments.

For whatever reason, Derek Morgan seemed to find it charmingly irresistible. But the majority of her classmates did not.

For the most part, she'd made her peace with that, with being an outsider – afterall, she'd spent most of her life like that, she figured she could live with it for a few months until college when she had a chance to start over. So long as she had Derek in her corner, she felt she could withstand just about anything.

Of course, just about anything had its limits...

Somehow, over the course of her stint of bed rest, people at school had started talking. That, in and of itself, was nothing new – she'd been providing fodder for the rumour mill practically since she'd arrived. Some of her particular favourites were that she was a witch who'd been expelled from her school in Italy for killing a Catholic priest or the one implying she was actually an undercover spy. Up 'til now, though, the rumours had all been laughably false...

"Oh my God, this is a disaster!" Emily whisper-shouted to Derek as she rushed up to him in the hall by his locker. "Everyone knows! How does everyone know!?" Her eyes welled up with angry tears, that she rubbed away with the heel of her fist.

Derek folded her into his chest to quiet her increasingly loud ranting. "Shh," he soothed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "It'll be okay."

"No, it won't," she insisted, words muffled by his chest. "They know I'm pregnant! Everyone is whispering about me – I'm the school tramp!"

"Em, you're overreacting," he said gently. "It's just a rumour."

"Easy for you to say," she snapped, "They're not whispering about you! And even if they were, you'd be a hero..."

"Since when do you care what people think about you?" he asked, extending her to arm's length to fix her with a raised brow.

"I don't," she said with a sniffle, crossing her arms over her chest. The pitiful look on her face, however, betrayed her defiant words.

"Then why are you so upset?" he asked gently.

"I don't know!" She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated.

"You know what I think?" he said, tilting her chin up to look in her eyes.

"What?" Her expression was somewhere between a pout and a scowl.

"Fuck them," he said with a mischievous grin. "Yes, this baby wasn't planned, but that doesn't mean we don't love it. It doesn't mean we can't be good parents. And it certainly doesn't make you a slut. So, fuck anyone who whispers because they don't know a damn thing."

Emily gave a wet little laugh, lips finally giving way to a smile. "How do you always know just what to say?"

He shrugged modestly. "I've got a mic feeding me lines."

"I knew it," she agreed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. "No one can be this cute and charming..."

"You think I'm cute?" he asked with a wink, tickling her sides. "What do you say we take a day off?" he suggested when she batted his hands away. "I've got an idea..."

"I literally just got off several weeks of bed rest," she pointed out.

He raised a brow. "Like you were such a good student in the first place."

"I have straight A's..." He continued to stare at her in challenge. "And a less than stellar attendance record." She took his arm, giving in. "So, where are we going on this impromptu date?"

"The Disney Store?" Emily said skeptically as they stood in front of the entrance, strains of Let It Go spilling out into the open air of the mall. "This is the surprise?"

"Not quite," he said, playfulness sparkling in his eyes. He took her hand, leading her through the store, watching her eyes catch on the display of Beauty and the Beast merchandise, to the baby section.

Emily turned to him, eyes getting misty. They hadn't bought anything for the baby yet, waiting until her trust fund kicked in.

"I've been saving up," he said simply, watching the smile blossom across her face.

The smile lasted until she came across a little Simba onesie and she was reduced to full-on sobs. On their first date, he'd taken her to an outdoor movie showing of The Lion King and it was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her (namely because he was the first guy who hadn't tried to feel her up on the first date...). For their one year anniversary, he'd saved up to take her to a performance of The Lion King musical that had been on tour in town. It had become their thing.

Folding her into an embrace without comment, he nodded, understanding completely.

"We're going to name him Simba," she insisted, sniffling softly.

"Anything you want, Princess," he vowed. "And I know you're all hormonal right now or you wouldn't be crying over a onesie." She whimpered in agreement. "Why are you so sure it's a boy?"

"Because everyone thinks it's going to be a girl," she said, drying her eyes. "And if it's a girl, she'll be like me and I'm an awful child – we'll both be grey by the time we're twenty! If it's a boy, he'll take after you and be all sweet and charming."

Derek attempted to stifle his laughter, lest he reduce her to tears again. "All I know is that I'll love him or her no matter who they take after..."

"Do not make me cry again," she threatened, but her wobbling lip made it clear it was a risk.

"Will frozen yogurt stem the tide of tears?"

Emily's eyes lit up and he knew he'd said the magic words. It wasn't until she was wolfing down her yogurt that she spoke up again, "What are we going to do about the rumours?"

"Ignore them," he said with a shrug.

Emily raised a brow pointedly. "And what happens when my belly starts to show?"

"Ignore them harder."

She rolled her eyes. "But..."

"Em, you'll graduate soon and then you'll never have to see any of those people ever again," he said reasonably.

She sighed heavily. She hated to admit that he was right. "I just..." she stammered, "I've just never felt like I belonged anywhere and I guess I still had hope that I'd belong here."

"I know where you belong," he said gently, reaching over to squeeze her hand.

"Where?"

He pointed to his heart. "Right here."