Given it was now the early hours of the morning, the ER was predictably quiet, save for a few drunks who looked to be sleeping it off. With as much outward confidence as he could gather, Lenny walked to the reception desk, Midge's hand grasping his tighter than he had ever felt before.

"My wife," he said motioning to Midge, "she's five months pregnant and there's been some bleeding."

The nurse behind the desk nodded. "OK sir, if you or your wife could fill these forms out"—she held out a pen and clipboard with documents several sheets thick attached—"a doctor will see you shortly."

Lenny just shook his head, completely ignoring the nurse's suggestion as she continued to offer the clipboard. "Are you not understanding me? She's pregnant and she's bleeding, she needs to see a doctor now."

Normally, Midge would not have tolerated Lenny's overprotective attempts to look after her, but she was shaken up and tired and, frankly, it was a relief to have someone else take the reins for her.

The nurse sighed, finally giving up and placing the clipboard down. "I understand sir, but before we do anything, you need to fill out the forms."

"Fuck the forms," Lenny said, his anger bubbling to the surface. "We've got fucking health insurance, alright? My wife needs to see someone now."

"Holy shit," came a slurred voice from behind Midge and Lenny. "You're Lenny fucking Bruce!" an inebriated man exclaimed as he came to stand next to the man in question.

"You are correct," Lenny admitted reluctantly. "So hello, but if you couldn't tell, I'm busy trying to get my wife the medical attention she needs right now."

If the man heard Lenny's words, he paid no attention to them. "And you"—he pointed at Midge—"you're Mrs…" He screwed up his face thinking.

"Maisel," Midge finally informed him out of frustration. "Mrs. Maisel, that's me."

"Hey Tony," the man called across the waiting area to his slumped, barely conscious friend. "You gotta come here, it's Lenny goddamn Bruce!" he said with enthusiasm, only later remembering Midge. "And he's with that Maisel chick."

"'Maisel chick'," Lenny muttered disapprovingly under his breath.

Struck by a thought, the drunk man's brow creased in confusion. "Wait, if you're Lenny Bruce and you're married to her"—he nodded his head in Midge's direction—"then how can she be Mrs. Maisel?" Before he could say more to test Lenny's increasingly thin patience, he was interrupted by a nurse with a demeanor that was instantly recognizable as more helpful than of the one behind the desk.

"If you'd like to follow me," she offered noting the potential fray the couple were starting to be a part of, "I can get you set up while you wait for a doctor."

"Thank you," Lenny said with relief, giving the other nurse a look of disdain for good measure.

"Thank you," Midge echoed, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding as they were led to a curtained off bed.

After the nurse had jotted down her symptoms and taken her blood pressure, Midge changed into the flimsy hospital gown and took her place waiting on the bed.

"What's taking the doctor so fucking long," Lenny grumbled, rubbing his temple as he paced a few steps back and forth.

"Lenny," Midge said as she reached out, her touch stilling him. "Can you just…" She paused, feeling silly about what she was about to request. "Can you hold my hand, please?"

Letting out a breath, Lenny closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself before nodding and taking her hand, their fingers threading together as each of them gripped tightly.

"Right, what do we have here," the voice of the doctor came, proceeding his appearance by a second when he pulled back the curtain and entered. "Some sort of women's trouble is it?" the gray haired man asked Midge dismissively.

"Not exactly," she replied, already developing a dislike for this man. "I'm five months pregnant and I've had some bleeding." For some reason, the doctor still looked at her blankly. "The nurse did write it down," Midge further explained, glancing in the direction of her chart.

It took another second, but eventually the doctor moved into some sort of action. "Look, sir," he began as he looked at Lenny, "could you just step outside while I examine your wife?"

Midge's grip on his hand became vice-like. "Well, my wife wants me here, so I'm not going anywhere."

The doctor sighed and removed his glasses, pinching at the bridge of his nose before putting them back on. "Fine," he acquiesced. "Could you at least move back so I can take a proper look at her?"

Lenny looked questioningly at Midge, who gave him a nod of agreement. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand and took a few steps back and away from the bed.

"So this 'bleeding'," the doctor began as sat on a stool perusing Midge's notes after a brief internal and external exam, "is there any reason you can think of that it might have occurred?" After a couple of seconds of no reply, he finally looked up at the couple. "Trauma, injury, intercourse?" he continued as he fished for an answer.

"Well, he had umm…" Midge shifted awkwardly. "We had just had sex."

"Ah," the doctor said, smirking in a way Lenny found entirely too self satisfied.

"I thought sex was fine while pregnant?" Lenny piped up with concern.

"Oh it is," the doctor confirmed nonchalantly as he jotted something down on Midge's chart. "But some spotting is fairly common afterwards at this point in the pregnancy. The baby is still moving around fine and the heartbeat is good and strong, so there's nothing to be concerned about."

"It's just with my other two, I didn't have anything like this," Midge said, feeling rather silly for making a fuss. "But I was in my 20s then, so I was worried that maybe with my age now…"

"Every pregnancy is different and the older you get, the higher the risk of complications, but"—he glanced at her notes—"33 really isn't an age to be too concerned about. I've seen women in their mid-40s have perfectly healthy babies. However"—he flipped to the first page of the paper in front of him—"your blood pressure is just a touch on the high side, but that's to be expected given your current situation," he finished with a chuckle, although neither Midge nor Lenny could find amusement in it.

"Right," was all Midge could think to say, suddenly very aware of the too bright hospital lights and clinical smell, wanting nothing more than to crawl into the safety of her own bed.

"You can get dressed now," the doctor told Midge as he stood. "Just keep an eye on things and if the bleeding gets much heavier, do seek further medical attention, alright?" he asked, although he had already disappeared beyond the curtain before Midge had any chance to reply.

Alone again with Midge, Lenny shutting his eyes for a moment, his shoulders physically dropping from the newly lifted metaphorical weight. "Ready to go home?" he asked as he looked at Midge, squeezing her hand.

"Fuck yes," she agreed, smiling in tired relief.

"I'm glad the kids aren't coming back until the afternoon," Midge mumbled through half closed eyes as she slipped under the covers. "I could sleep for a week."

"Mm-hmm," Lenny agreed, pulling her close and nuzzling his head into her neck as he closed his eyes. Sleep had already started to pull him under when he felt it, his eyes snapping open in surprise. "Holy fuck, did I just feel the baby move?"

Midge shifted to sit up slightly. "You did," she beamed, tired but thrilled he could finally feel what she had been experiencing for weeks.

"Fuck, it's incredible," he said in wonder, his hand still touching her abdomen. "I think I remember Honey asking me to feel Kitty kicking, but"—he shook his head—"it didn't just…happen like that."

"It's pretty amazing," Midge said with a smile, lowering herself back down and turning her body towards his, his arm automatically wrapping around her as her head pressed against his shoulder. "I was so scared we might lose it," she whispered into the darkness when silence had fallen between them.

So was I, Lenny thought. "I know, but she's gonna be just fine."

"Oh, it's a girl now?"

Lenny shrugged. "I figure anything that pulls a stunt so dramatic it has us hot footing it down to the ER in the middle of the night has got to be more you than me."

"Because you're so well known for being quiet and retiring," Midge stated wryly.

"Maybe not," Lenny countered with another shrug, "but I never flashed my tits for a club full of people while I was drunk off my ass."

"That is true," Midge rescinded with a grin, closing her eyes. "But there's still time for that if it's a life goal you would like to achieve."

"Maybe I'll just go on completely nude next time I do a set, then I could get arrested for indecent exposure instead of obscenity. I think it's only fair I give the gals in the typing pool some variety," he riffed, "they've spent so long transcribing the same boring shit for my record, let them spice it up a bit. It would be a public service, really."

"Your civic duty," Midge concurred, smiling as she relaxed further into the security of Lenny's warmth, just registering the kiss he placed to the top of her head before she drifted off to sleep.

"You're making me breakfast," Midge said with slight surprise as she entered the kitchen the morning after her impromptu trip to the ER - although she had slept so late that morning was about to turn to afternoon.

"I am," Lenny confirmed with a nod as he turned his attention briefly from the stove and directed her to sit.

"You don't normally make me breakfast…" Midge said, her eyes narrowing. "You make the kids breakfast, you make a family breakfast, but not just me…"

"Well, when was the last time we were even without the kids for me to do this?" he offered as he began to plate up her food.

"Hmm, that's true," Midge answered skeptically before sipping her orange juice.

"Plus, I wanted to let you sleep in. Here," Lenny said as he placed a plate of French toast in front of her.

"I didn't even know you could make French toast," she said with surprise.

"Yeah, well"—Lenny scratched behind his ear as he stood looking down at her—"neither did I, so the proof will be in the tasting."

Midge cautiously took a bite.

"Good?" he asked hopefully as he sat, removing the kitchen towel that had been draped over his left shoulder.

Midge chewed and swallowed before giving her verdict. "Surprisingly, yes."

"So," Lenny began cautiously, "I've been thinking…"

Midge looked up from her plate, the slight tilt of her head and purse of her lips saying she knew this was coming.

"This tour of yours next month-"

"Lenny…" Midge started to protest.

"Yes, I know you are determined to do it, and far be it for me to try and tell you what to do, but I got a suggestion for you: Maybe I could come along."

She frowned. "You want to come on tour with me? Performing?"

"I was thinking more as the supportive husband, behind-the-scenes. You know"—he bobbed his head sideways—"keep an eye on things, make sure Susie isn't overworking you."

"Lenny, you heard what the doctor said, I'm fine," Midge insisted sternly. "I don't need looking after."

"I know that," he insisted in return, holding up his hands. "But"—he shrugged—"a month of just us, no kids, it might be a nice break."

Midge considered the prospect, sighing in reluctant agreement before she spoke. "It would be nice, you and me, before we're thrust into the utter insanity of having a newborn and three other children to look after."

"See? Ethan and Esther were gonna stay with Joel while you toured anyway. Kitty, she loves your parents, and I'm sure they'd be happy to have her for a few weeks."

"But what about your work, your writing…"

"Eh," Lenny said with a shrug, "I can write anywhere. Plus, you know I've been doing those pieces for Playboy? Well, I was thinking, I could do a series based on my travels through the 'American heartland'. It would be kind of like 'On the Road', but without the drug use."

Midge smiled. "And without the sex with multiple people, unless of course you have feelings for Susie that I haven't been privy to…"

Lenny shook his head. "No," he raised his brow, "I certainly do not. And, I also have no desire to share you with anyone else." He leaned forward, kissing her less briefly than he initially planned.

"Mm-hmm," Midge hummed contentedly after he pulled away.

"So, is that a yes?" he asked as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'd have to ask Susie, but… It's a yes."

"So I was wondering…" Midge began as she slid into the booth at the Stage Deli. "Well, Lenny was wondering I suppose…"

Susie just stared, waiting for a pause in Midge's fluster of words. "Midge, spit it out."

"Lenny wants to come on the tour," Midge spat out as quickly as she could.

"No, no way," Susie replied with a vigorous shake of her head. "No fucking way."

"Not to go on stage, just behind-the-scenes," Midge clarified.

Susie continued to shake her head as she lit a cigarette.

"Look, we had a scare with the baby." Susie went to speak before Midge cut her off. "Everything's fine, but it shook him up a bit and he just wants to be there, keep an eye on things."

"And you're alright with that?" Susie asked skeptically, well aware Midge was not a fan of being mollycoddled.

"Well, no, I wasn't, but then he suggested it might be nice for us to have some time together without the kids, you know, before this one"—she touched her belly—"comes along. Plus, he's thinking of doing a series of articles on traveling."

"Hmm," Susie bemoaned flatly as she blew out smoke.

Midge thought for a second. "The driving! He could help with the driving."

"Hmm," Susie further pondered. "I do hate doing all the fucking driving."

"So…?" Midge asked hopefully, dropping her head to fully meet Susie's eyeline.

"Fine," Susie huffed, "he can come, but no trying to do my job for me."

"I will make sure that does not happen."