Author's Note: I know, I know, it took me forever to update but this was in my Drive so I decided to just finish it and publish it! :) So to those who wanted an update: you're welcome and I hope you like it. And to those who didn't ask for one: same thing. :) (P.S I really want the proposal to happen on the show :P)

December 24th, 2019 – 11:50pm

It was nearly Christmas morning, and although the house was quiet, with the only noises being Matt's snoring from upstairs, mixed in with Jackson's heavy breathing, both indicating deep sleep, there was a certain activity of excitement; it was almost time.

"Ten minutes and counting," Stephanie murmured, snuggling into his chest. She was tired, but they'd made it this far, having just finished wrapping presents and helping DJ and Matt prep the tree just before the two of them went off to bed.

"That should be enough," she heard Jimmy whisper to himself and she had time to only be confused so long before he abruptly grabbed her left hand, caressing it and then intertwining their fingers. Much of what Jimmy did was abrupt. In fact, most of what any Gibbler did was that way, although she didn't mind, she had actually gotten used to it.

"What are you – "

"Stephanie Judith Tanner. I know you didn't do commitment and neither did I. Not until we started this thing. I can say that I love you, now. I can say it over and over, again and again. In fact, I like to say it. I would say it in a boat, I would say it in the rain, I would say it in a train, I would say it anywhere, you see!"

Stephanie grinned at him, laughing as he continued. She'd only resist mumbling 'dork' under her breath just this once.

"I love you, Stephanie. And I believe that we're meant to be together. When you kissed me that day in your backyard, I thought to myself that this must be what kissing your soulmate is like. I thought: damn, if I get to kiss this woman for the rest of my life, I could never be any luckier.

"When I told you that my oldest memory of you was when we kissed, not five minutes before, I lied. Well, not lied, really. I just…didn't tell you the real memory, because I do have one, you know.

"We were only five. I was walking back from the corner store and I saw you, a little ways down your block. You were alone. And you had on these heels, and you were wobbling up a storm in them but the look on your face said that you were determined to keep wearing them, keep walking in them, no matter how many times you fell, which I'd gathered had been a lot. As I watched you, you took too big of a step and the tiny pointed heel – whatever it's called – "

"A stiletto," she whispered, biting her lip. She knew where this was going. She could remember that day, too.

"Right. It broke and you fell pretty hard on the cement. Ouch," he chuckled. "So I ran up to you and you were trying to hold in the tears, but try as you might, a few fell down your cheeks as your nose ran. You told me that you were fine, that I should just go back home, and that it didn't matter why you were wearing those heels, anyway.

"I didn't push you. Didn't think you'd wanted to be pushed. But then you stopped me. You pulled me back by the arm and down to your height on the ground. You looked so sad, so heartbroken, that I felt compelled to hug you, but I didn't. Didn't want to weird you out.

"I'm a Tanner," she laughed. "We hug for a living. I totally would have let you."

"Duly noted," he said. "You told me that those were your mom's shoes. 'She died.' You didn't give me anything more. I didn't ask. I just picked you up and let you lean on me, because your ankle was turning purple and even I had enough sense at the time to see that you couldn't walk on it.

"Halfway home, you said to me that I was the first person you told. I said that wasn't true, that my Mom and my older brother and sister knew, too. In fact, everybody in our grade knew. You told me that, yes, they all knew, but that you hadn't told them."

Stephanie felt him wipe the tears that were gathering below her eyes and opened her mouth to speak. "You said that you felt special."

"And you told me: 'I guess you should.' And that was it. We ended up in your backyard, just holding each other in silence. I was keeping you up off your ankle and you were just using me as support, and we were only little kids, who barely knew what love was, but still, it felt intimate. Time seemed to stop at that moment. It seemed to not exist, anymore. And when we kissed twenty nine or so years later, it felt that way again.

"Every time we kiss, every time we touch, it feels that way, Steph."

Her laugh was teary and gentle. "It feels that way for me too, babe."

Taking a deep breath, Jimmy released his grip on her hands and reached into his sweater pocket while getting down on one knee on the carpet below them. Opening the box and staring into her eyes, he asked her the one question she'd dreamed of hearing since she was ten years old and had that lame crush on Tommy Paige; it wasn't lame then, oh no, that boy was fine, but now, when she sees herself looking so hopeful and so happy, as happy as Tracy Turnblad is around Link Larkin, in the reflection of Jimmy Gibbler's eyes, it's very much lame.

"Will you marry me?"

Inadvertently, Stephanie let out this loud scream, and all Jimmy did was laugh as he slid the gorgeous ring that must have cost him many, many hours of taking photographs, onto her finger.

"I take that as a yes?"

She jumped into his readied embrace, still nearly knocking him over. Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she allowed herself to be picked up off of the ground and whirled around; feeling for one moment, like she was a child again, that same child that sprained her ankle in her mother's heels, playing one of the intense games of Ring around the Rosy that she used to love so much.

"Yes! Of course, yes!"

Laughing as they could hear the banging of feet on the stairs, Jimmy leaned over and whispered into her ear. "Merry Christmas."

He let her slide to the floor then, as she grinned, addressing her entire, disgruntled family, all except for Max, who was bright eyed and bushy tailed. "Is Santa here!? Is that why you screamed!?"

"More like she's being kidnapped by Gibbler over there," Jackson grunted with a frown, clearly not impressed at being woken up.

Stephanie laughed. "Sorry you guys. No Max, Santa hasn't come yet, buddy. Probably because Jimmy and I haven't gone to bed yet."

Max just stared at her. "I'm sorry, what!? How could you have not gone to sleep yet? You know that Santa only comes when we're all sleeping, right?"

With a nod and a smile, Stephanie stuck out her left hand, moving her ring finger about emphatically. "We were a little busy."

Kimmy's scream was identical to hers, and she laughed, loudly, louder than was probably necessary, but she didn't care. DJ gasped and held onto Matt's arm for support, as if she were about to fall over in shock. "Oh, my Lanta."

DJ hugged her first and it was long, tight, and Stephanie inhaled the smell of her skin and hair, vanilla, always vanilla, and right away she felt comforted, like she'd made the right choice in saying yes. Not that she ever doubted it even for a second, but still.

"My little sister is getting married."

"The squirt is all grown up," Kimmy said, joining in DJ's hug and leaving a smacking kiss against her head.

Before she knew it, everybody else was joining in on the hug.

"Welcome to the Gibbler clan, Aunt Stephanie." Ramona said to her, and Stephanie thanked her, running a hand over top her head and through her hair.

"Thank you, Ramona. Woah. I officially have a niece. That's weird. Great. But weird."

Everybody laughed and squeezed tighter, and Stephanie was overwhelmed by everything that was the Tanner-Fuller- Gibbler magic.

…

"Steph?" DJ asked her a little while later when they were sitting on couch, legs tucked under them coffee and Bailey's warming their fingertips. "Did I ever tell you how Tom and I met? Like the real story? Not the one you heard at our wedding."

Stephanie turned to her sister, puzzled. "Um, no, I don't think so…" She blew carefully on her drink, the steam humid and thick, hot against her face as she held it against her lips, but the feeling made her think of happy thoughts, of winter, of Christmas, of her ring, of the man who gave her the ring, and just about love, in general. "Do tell."

DJ smirked at her and set her cup down on one of the strategically placed coasters on the coffee table. The Danny Tanner that was inside of her would always be inside of her. And it amused Stephanie to no end a lot of the time. She mimicked her now and waited for her to speak.

"Well, it was sophomore year of college and you know Steve and I had just broken up, okay it had been two years, and I had made some new friends and they liked to have fun and I – "

"Didn't," Stephanie interjected, smiling slightly.

"Hey, I had some fun okay," DJ defended, while Stephanie just laughed. "Not the kind of fun the rest of us had."

DJ huffed. "Just because I didn't come home drunk and half-passed out at 4AM like some people," she gave Stephanie a pointed look, who blushed, because looking back, she really wasn't proud of the shit she did as a teenager. Gia had only instigated half of it. "- Doesn't mean I didn't have fun.

Tom took me home from this party and we had a great connection and I was only a little tipsy and one thing led to another and I slept with him."

Stephanie gasped, and then laughed. "Holy wow, you had a one-night stand, and that one-night stand ended up being your fricken husband?"

DJ nodded.

"Only Donna Jo Tanner could pull that off," she rolled her eyes, giving her sister a shove. "How?"

"He called me the next morning. To make sure I was, you know, feeling okay."

"But you weren't even that drunk, right?"

DJ cringed, smiling sheepishly. "Uh, I may have over-sold the tipsy bit."

"Jesus." Stephanie whistled through her teeth. "I did not see that one coming. But I mean you guys didn't even follow the one - night stand rules: you don't call, you don't text, no meet-ups. Nothing. So does it count?"

"Yes." DJ stated, rolling her eyes now.

"No," Stephanie countered, sparkling laughter coming from her mouth. "But nice try with the street cred."

January 1st, 2020

"I am never drinking again," DJ groaned, sinking into the barstool at the kitchen counter, head in her hands.

"Copy that," Kimmy said with the same suffering inflection, and sitting down next to her.

Soon after, Matt and Jimmy followed suit, and Jackson came and went from the kitchen, mumbling to Max – "mom's hung over oh my god," to which Max replied "what's hungover?" with a curious and worried expression on his face as he trailed after his brother. "Wait, I forgot breakfast!"

"Breakfast is cancelled," DJ mumbled into her hands and Stephanie just laughed, bouncing a giggly Tommy on her hip.

"Coming right up, Max-y Moo," and Max shot her a toothy grin. "And don't worry about your mom; she's just a little worse for wear today, that's all."

DJ glared at her in response. Being pregnant was weird. She traded hangovers for morning sickness. She used to think the morning (all day) sickness was worse, but one look at her poor sister and she changed her answer.

Jimmy came over and pressed himself against her back, holding her belly in his hands. "You're going to be the best Mommy ever, Aunt Steph," he told her, leaving a kiss on the shell of her ear.

January 21st, 2020

Stephanie was lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to count the exact number of scratches she could spot from the decades of life lived in this house, from the nights slept, and the days spent, in this very room. So far, she counted twenty, losing her place, and forgetting which of them she'd counted, every time a nearly unbearable pain came over her lower abdomen. Every ten minutes.

She didn't expect this to happen yet. It wasn't supposed to. Actually, she wasn't ever supposed to experience labor in her lifetime, but clearly, somebody had other plans. She'd like to think that it was her mother, who gave her the agonizing chance to have a child, to give birth like a woman of her age was meant to, to hold her own baby, to parent her own child, to love it just like she loved her nephews, but, with no intended offense to the boys, even more. It was a dream she'd long ago given up, when she'd been told there was no way, that her body just wasn't fit to have children. That she wasn't fit to have them.

Some days, this made her feel as if she wasn't fit to be a mother – not like her sister. DJ was the best mother, her Dad always said that she was just like their mother, and Stephanie felt cheapened. Their mother was alive long enough to have a real bond with her older sister; to teach her girly things like how to deal with your, unexpected, in DJ's case, period, and how to talk to your crush, and through virtuous example, how to be an amazing mother. Before Stephanie could learn any of these things, her mother died. The last thing she remembered learning from her was: "always hold my hand when crossing the street, little monkey. Or you could get very hurt."

What use that was, when she was twelve and struggled to put in a tampon in the girl's bathroom; when she was fifteen, and went on her first real date with a bore of a boy, the third baseman on the varsity team with the wavy, long hair; when she was sixteen and got supremely wasted at Mickey's end-of-the-year party and was throwing up in the front rosebushes for over an hour; when she was twenty-three and babysat a four year old Jackson alone for the first time and he choked on a piece of hotdog, and then when she was thirty-two, sitting in her doctor's office, squeezing her own hand because there was nobody else's for her to squeeze, as she was told that she couldn't have kids.

At this moment though, when another violent contraction tore through her, what her mother told her that day – the day of the night she died – was worth something. It had such value, now, when, in a matter of, probably hours but what she felt as minutes, Stephanie was going to have her own baby to raise. She would be telling them things like don't drink the pool water, don't bite other children, even if they are playing with your favorite toy (she had a history of doing that) and of course, don't cross the street without holding Mommy's hand.

"Oh…fuck me…" she hissed, clutching her abdomen and leaning further back into her pillow. "JIMMY GIBBLER GET YOUR FUCKING ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!" Stephanie screamed, really, really glad her nephews weren't around to hear her, because she's said enough shit around them back in their younger years, and hers, when she was as far from sober as a person could get; things that had made her cringe and apologize profusely to her older sister for the next morning, and are still making her cringe now.

"GIBBLER, YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT! I'M HAVING OUR BABY AND YOU ARE NOWHERE TO BE SEEN OR HEARD– AS IN NOT HERE. WITH ME! YOU LITTLE IGNORANT – "

The pain subsided for a second, and in that second, she was able to have a clear head and think rationally. With this new rationality came fear, because it was what made her remember that Jimmy wasn't home either. He'd gone out to get her one of those fancy nursing shirts that they'd seen a few days ago. She didn't even have time to feel awful for cursing him, or time to feel stupid for yelling at nobody, because another, longer lasting contraction hit her full force, and with no preamble.

"Jesus Christ Almighty," she groaned. "I know you're ready to come out, Baby. But you've gotta wait for Daddy, okay?"

In response, her body was graced with another contraction five minutes or so later as if it were pertinaciously taking a stance against her mind. Nobody was waiting for anybody. She knew that, loud and clear, now.

"Okay….oookaaay. Do not panic," she mumbled to herself, reaching for her phone on the nightstand and pressing speed dial.

"Jimmy Gibbler! Leave a message and I'll call you back –only if I remember. Hahaha. I'm serious, I'm really forgetful."

"Agh!" she cried, punching '2' and waiting for the ring.

"You've reached DJ Fuller! If I'm not answering your call, it's because I'm busy at the moment, but I'll get back to you as soon as I can! Leave your message at the – beep."

"Are you kidding me, Deej? Great time to do a craniotomy on a dog," she grumbled bitterly, not even caring if that wasn't in fact what her sister was doing. She could be stitching up a cat's paw for all that she knew, or even on her lunch break. The fact still remained that she wasn't answering her phone, and when her little sister was in crisis, to boot.

Pressing '3' she sighed, expecting another normative voicemail, which is exactly what she got.

"This is Danny Tanner's phone, co-host of Wake up USA! For business inquires, contact the station. If you're family, I'll call you as soon as I get this message you're leaving."

"Are you for real? God, are you honestly telling me that I have to go through this alone!?" she exclaimed towards the ceiling, when she pressed '4' – the last digit of her speed dial.

"Uncle Jesse!? Are you a real person? This isn't your voicemail!? Okay I'm in labor and Jimmy's not here and DJ is at the clinic I think and Dad's not answering either, he might be sleeping or something I don't know, and I'm really freaking out here because I absolutely cannot – "

"Woah, woah, woah, slow down, kid. What's going on?"

Stephanie heard the hysteria in her voice the moment she opened her mouth, and it only escalated with each word she spoke, as if she were on Ritalin or something, but it wouldn't stop. She took a deep breath, which only made her start to cry.

"I can't do this, Uncle Jesse. I'm going to have this baby alone, in my bedroom. But I don't want to!" She sounded like a despondent child, and she wanted to kick herself for that. She was a strong woman, dammit.

"Okay, Steph. Just breathe. Becky asked me to ask you how far apart your contractions are."

"They're about ten minutes? I don't know. I just know that I can't wait any longer. I'm in so much pain!"

The line went quiet for a second, and Stephanie thought her phone had died and began to seriously panic.

"Steph?"

"Aunt Becky?"

"Yes, honey, it's me. Are you breathing through them?"

She grimaced and gasped as another one threatened to dominate her entire body, as pain tinged hotly across her abdomen and pelvic region.

"Trying to," she sputtered, regaining only minimal composure, still cognizant enough to speak in short sentences, the pain alleviating just barely.

"That's good. Really good, sweetheart," Becky told her. "So Jimmy's not answering his phone? You're alone?"

"Yes," she said, holding her breath as the end of the intense pain turned into only extreme discomfort. "Can you come get me and drive me to the hospital?"

"Of course. Jess and I will be there as soon as we can. Can you hold out till we get there?"

"I think so."

"Okay. I'll keep trying to call Jimmy. You just relax. I'm going to make sure he's there for the birth of his child. You don't worry about a thing, baby girl."

Stephanie smiled. Her Aunt Becky hadn't called her baby girl since she was seventeen, and put in the hospital overnight for observation after having acute alcohol poisoning. She could clearly remember moaning about the pain she was in after her stomach pump, groggy and still under mild influence of anesthesia.

Her dad was so angry at her, as upset as she's ever seen him, and he wasn't in the room. He was at home with Michelle, making her promise that she would never ever drink alcohol until she was of age and responsible enough to know her limitations. DJ was finishing her last semester of college before summer, and Uncle Jesse was at home with the twins. But Aunt Becky insisted on staying.

She didn't yell, or give her looks of disapproval, she just seemed sad, staring at Stephanie's damp cheeks and sweat ridden forehead, zeroing in on her tell of the quivering lip that said she was about to break.

Before Stephanie could manage an 'I'm so, so, sorry," through the dryness of her throat, her aunt spoke, absolving her of the apology.

"It's okay, baby girl. You were naive, sure, stupid, of course, but that doesn't mean we love you any less. Your dad will come around. I promise. He was just so sick with worry about you – we all were. We weren't sure what the outcome of tonight was going to be. We just held our breath. But you're here, now, with us. And you've learned your lesson. That's what matters here, right?"

Stephanie nodded, but stayed quiet, fearing that anything she said would set her aunt off too, like it did her father and uncle, earlier.

"That's not to say you aren't grounded till you're thirty – sorry Steph," she smirked, sharing in the joke that wasn't outright acknowledged by either of them, "Someone had to say it."

"I understand. And Aunt Becky?"

"Yes?"

Stephanie reached over the bedrail to grasp the woman's hand and weakly squeeze it. "Thank you for staying. And not screaming at me. Being reasonable."

"You're welcome."

"And thank you for being my mother figure when I needed you. When I still need you. It means so much, Aunt Becky. I love you."

Becky smiled, though it was a faint outline of the real thing, the rest of it getting lost in the fluorescent lighting of the room, and thoughts of the unfortunate circumstance that had them here in the first place.

"I love you too. I'm glad to be, and I'm always here, whenever you need me. Know that, baby girl. Okay? It's important to me that you do."

"I do. Don't worry."

Stephanie willed the memory away and another contraction shackled her with a sharp, stabbing pain.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow….why, why, why, why!"

Just then, her uncle came bursting through the door at an alarming speed. "Oh, Stephanie…Jimmy's on his way, baby, I promise you. We got a hold of him."

Stephanie gave him a pathetic half-smile. She didn't want his sweet endearment to go unacknowledged, as rare as it was with her.

"Thanks, Uncle Jesse. Can you help me get to the car while I'm contraction-free?"

"Sure, sure. I – uh – here."

Jesse lifted her into his arms, pressing her as softly as he could against his chest, enough so that she wouldn't be jostled too much on the way.

When he placed her gently into the passenger seat, he gingerly kissed her forehead. "You can hold my hand the whole way there, if you want to."

His words came out a little awkward, but they were pure in their intention. Their bond had gotten stronger after Stephanie's fourteenth birthday and she'd kind of sort of flew off the handle a little bit, when DJ went to college.

She was finally the older one in a house with just her and Michelle, and relished in that standing, in the generational, socially constructed conventions that went along with it. She skipped the cigarettes, dabbled with the non-addictive drugs; but the torrid love affair was really between her and alcohol. Being tipsy gave her an edge. Being drunk gave her the upper hand. And Stephanie wished and wished for the day, ever since she was five years old and forced to share a room with her ten year old, grown up sister, when she could finally say what was what. And who was where. It provided her with an adrenaline and energy she had no idea how to handle, but even so, as she had one drink, then two, then three, the way became clearer. She became more confident in her decisions, bolder, riskier, as she kissed boys with tongue and whipped them around the dance floor like she was the leader, and they, were the ones following.

When she was in the thick of it – the second time she'd been caught coming home reeking obnoxiously of booze, and the time after that, when she very well could have died from drinking too much, her uncle was the one who set her straight. He told her that all of this high school bullshit would be nothing in a few years, and that it wasn't worth her time, or her wellbeing. He was the one who pushed her into song writing, inspired her to stick with it and maybe one day be someone. She swore she'd never stop feeling thankful for that. And she hasn't.

So, when another, lengthy contraction came over her, she squeezed his hand so hard that he had to gripe trivially about loss of feeling in his extremities.

"Okay, Steph. Ease up, buttercup. Save some of that for Gibbler, huh!"

"Sorry Uncle Jesse," she apologized, clenching her right fist and intending her palm with her nails, instead of gripping his hand, shutting her eyes and breathing heavy as another contraction became hell bent on pummeling her with the strength of a football team, muscled up on protein shakes and suicides. "It just hurts so much."

"Why do people go through this!?"

"Because, at the end of it, at the end of all of the pain and suffering, that's what matters. Your baby. Steph. You're going to be a mother soon, and you're whole life is going to change before you can even say the words sleep deprivation, or even think them. But honey, I'll promise you one thing."

Becky reached her arm across the centre console and touched her shoulder, rubbing along it in slow circles. "You're going to love it. It's a whole new life, and you soon, you won't remember what it was like to not be changing poopy diapers. It's the most rewarding experience a woman could ever have."

Stephanie turned around in her seat as much as her physique would allow, and smiled. "I believe that. Growing up and watching you and Uncle Jesse raise Nicky and Alex into adults, and then watching Deej raise her boys…there's something about it, isn't there? Motherhood. It changes you. It makes you better."

Becky smiled too. "I'd like to think so. And I'm sure if DJ were here, she'd agree. Oh, sweetheart, you're going to be a great mother. And Jimmy will be a great dad. He's so good with your nephews. That baby in there is going to be the luckiest child in the whole world."

She stared down at her belly, putting her palm there, and averting her gaze from her aunt, with a humbling smile.

"I can't wait to meet you in person, Baby. You and Daddy are my family, now, and I wouldn't want it any other way. I love you so much it's insane. I didn't even know that the human heart was capable of so much love, until I learned about you."

"You might as well just call the child Francis," Jesse scoffed, though he was smiling. "Seriously, Steph. You and Gibbler ever consider it?"

Stephanie wrinkled her nose, oddly and irrationally offended about his mockery of their chosen, albeit clichéd and predictable, nickname. "No. Never. Gross."

"I was just asking. No need to bite my head off, kiddo. And we're here. How are you feeling? On a scale of 1-10, ten being the worst pain you've ever, ever felt in your entire life, how bad?"

She sighed, having no instant answer, because whatever it was now could change in another second. "Um…a six…I guess…right now. It's – uh- bearable…"

"Okay. That's good. It's not a total panic situation. Let's get you checked in now, shall we?"

Stephanie allowed him to help her out of the car and both he and Becky shouldered her weight as they entered the hospital. In seconds flat, probably due to her sudden, loud, unattractive moaning, she was in a wheelchair and a nurse was pushing her towards an entryway marked 'Labor and Delivery.' This was it. Her whole nine months of pregnancy, nearly to the day, led up to this. The constant worry that something was wrong, the subsequent sleepless nights, and the overwhelming pain she was feeling right now, would all stop. Aside from the sleepless nights. She couldn't help but smile at that last thought. I'm going to be a mom.

"Aunt Becky?"

"Yeah Steph?"

"I'd like to have you in the room….would you come with me?"

Her aunt put her hand to her mouth before turning to her uncle, then back to her. "Really, Steph? You mean it? You want me to go with you? "

Stephanie tried to smile through the extreme pain that once again threatened to use her insides as a noose to suck every last bit of life out of her.

"More than anything," she managed to say, before taking a deep breath out.

Becky came to stand beside her chair and took her hand, squeezing. It was as though she could sense no affectionate gesture or words could ever fit with the intimacy of this moment. Her aunt leaned in and then before Stephanie could say or feel anything, a pair of lips delicately brushed her forehead, both in comfort and familial love.

"You don't have to ask me twice, baby girl. Let's go give birth."

Just as the nurse began to wheel the chair in their intended direction again, though it was obvious she wasn't as emergent now, which mildly annoyed Stephanie, a loud, panicked voice stopped them again.

"Steph! Oh thank god you made it! I'm here. I'm here!"

Stephanie whipped her head around to see Jimmy running towards them, and offered him her hand to hold as he got closer. "I'm okay, babe. It's okay. Baby and I are okay."

Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief as he cupped her stomach. "Oh, good. I was so worried. When your uncle called and said you'd went into labor, I couldn't drive the RV here fast enough."

By now, they had been put in a room, and Stephanie had gotten as comfortable as she was ever going to get on the bed. The nurse had checked her vitals as a precaution due to her pregnancy being high risk, and told them she would go get their doctor.

"Speaking of which, how in the world did you even park that monstrosity of a vehicle?"

He flinched, shaking his head. "Uh, you don't really want to know the details. Trust me. Besides, we have a bigger issue on our hands."

Massaging small circles into her belly, he kissed her head. "Isn't that right, Baby? Daddy can't wait to see you – the real you – not the grainy ultrasound image of you."

As Jimmy was talking, two more contractions, nearly in succession, hit her, hard. "Oh, shit. Ow, ow, ow! That was two at the same time. "

"Do you need me to get the – "

Before he could finish his sentence, their doctor knocked lightly and then came in through the door, after getting the okay. He proceeded to check how dilated she was, sensing, when she'd told him that she'd just had two contractions practically in a row, that there was no time for inane small talk.

Stephanie looked up at her aunt, who was standing on the other side of her head, opposite of Jimmy. She wanted someone to tell her what was happening, and since her aunt had been through this once already, there was a good chance she knew.

"Aunt Becky, what's – "

"Stephanie," her doctor interjected, peeking up from in between her legs. She didn't even have time to think about how awkward it all was before he told her not to be nervous. "It's time to push. Right now."

…

Twenty minutes. That's all it took. Twenty minutes and her body was able to go slack as she lay back in the bed, holding her Baby – her baby girl – on her chest. When one of the nurses told them that it was a girl, Stephanie couldn't help but think that the ratio of boys to girls in the Fuller House would now be a little less imbalanced. Ramona would finally have someone to mentor (or manipulate, depending on the day).

Of course, she was surprised, and laughed about how pissed DJ was going to be, that Stephanie got the girl and she didn't, but she was also strangely intimidated by the reality of having a daughter; she wasn't old enough to really remember what it was like when her mom was alive, and couldn't take guidance from her then, or now, on how she was raising three girls, let alone just one. Her Aunt Becky raised boys, and so was her sister. Her father would have a completely different perspective on raising girls, as would her Uncle Jesse and Joey, and while it would be helpful, it wasn't what she would feel solaced by. She wanted her mom's advice, her opinion, her tips and tricks. She wanted her.

Stephanie wiped a fallen tear from her cheek and stared down in awe at her baby. The infant looked back up at her with sweet doe eyes, the color of a fawn. They were eyes that could get her in trouble come her teenaged years, as beautiful as they were. Those were eyes that could make anyone do anything faster than the speed of light, and if blinked at just the right speed, in conjunction with a nearly imperceptible yawn, they could make someone fall in love – a love that took a tight hold of every cell in your body, and would never let go, an all-consuming love that occupied your thoughts every single second of every single day, and every single night, so that there was no room for anything else. She was all that mattered, now.

"Isn't she gorgeous, babe?"

Jimmy grinned, trailing his pinky finger along the cashmere softness of her cheek.

"She's beautiful. I think she looks just like her Mommy." He kissed her gently. "I'm so, so, proud of you. You did it."

Stephanie rubbed his arm that laid across her legs, basking in the compliment with a smile. "We did it. We actually made one of these little baby people together."

He sighed, watching the baby as she gripped his finger in her whole fist. "She's ours."

"She's our miracle," Stephanie said ruminatively, thinking back on everything, still having trouble believing it actually happened for her – for them – and this moment, right now, wasn't just a figment of late-night-caffeine-induced dreams.

"And you're sure you like the name?"

She wondered if Becky had told the rest of the family the baby's gender. Probably. After the baby was born, and the cord was cut and her height and weight was charted, Becky insisted that the couple needed their privacy and left the room to alert the family of the arrival of its newest member; not before whispering to her that she did great.

"Yeah. I love it, Steph. It's obviously a sign. It's the first one we thought of."

She wasn't convinced, even if it was a sign. Some things just aren't signs, even if they seem like it. "It's the only one."

"Steph. I'll say it again. I love it. And I think she does too. When you said it, she opened her eyes. If that's not a sign – "

"They barely opened. It was like she was squinting. It was probably just gas or something. I don't know," she sighed. "What about her middle name? Are you sure you're okay with it? I'd understand if – "

Jimmy shushed her, taking her face in his hands and forcing her to look at him, straight on. "Stephanie. What's wrong? You absolutely loved the name the first time you suggested it to me. You knew what you wanted her name to be even before she was born, if she was a girl. Which she is. So why are you hesitating, sweetheart?"

She sighed again, fighting to turn away from him, but he wouldn't let her, not taking her silence as a placation. "Tell me."

"I don't know. It's just…suddenly…naming this baby, this little person who I love more than my own life, is just…intimidating. I want it to be perfect. I want her to grow up comfortable in her own skin. I don't want her to have the first letter of her last name tacked onto her name for her entire school career because there's more than one or two girls with her name in her class, but I don't want her to be made fun of on the playground, either. If I choose wrong, then it's all my fault. I'm her mother, I'm supposed to be making the best decisions on behalf of her, before she is capable to make them by herself."

Jimmy kissed her forehead. "Exactly, Stephy Bear. You're her mother. You're the one person she'll turn to for everything. And you'll never steer her wrong.

"You'll teach her what to do, and not what not to do. She'll trust you with all of her secrets, all of her hopes, dreams, and fears. She'll want to grow up to be just like you, because you'll be her biggest fan and role model. No decision you make for or with her, no advice you give to her, from this moment, will be bad, or wrong.

"I know you don't think so, but I know so. You were obviously destined to be her mother, to be that person for her, so don't think too hard on the little things, and just let your heart dictate.

"Isn't there a name for that?"

Stephanie furrowed her eyebrows. "Following your heart?"

"That's not it." He glanced meaningfully at her, and then she realized that he knew, but was just waiting for her to figure it out.

"A mother's intuition," she said, smiling, her mouth sloping naturally in thought. "Right…well, should we call everybody else in here to meet she who now officially has a name?"

Jimmy nodded. "I'll round them up. The whole crew's taking up the entire waiting area." He laughed as he stood, kissing both mother and baby on his way out.

Stephanie reciprocated his kiss with little energy, still physically drained, as well as emotionally, from the obstetrical feat of childbirth.

Not five minutes later the rest of the family piled into the room. Stephanie grinned at their entrance. She saw her father standing beside Joey, both men looking teary and barely keeping it together; she saw her Uncle Jesse and the twins, with two year old Pamela, now beside her aunt who was smiling, with similar expressions; she saw DJ trying to hold Max back by the collar of his shirt as he tried to make a beeline for the bed to see his cousin, because he just can't wait any longer!; she saw Kimmy, Fernando and Ramona clustered together in amongst the group, looking as in place as no Gibbler has ever before in her life, save from her boyfriend, and next to them was Jimmy, who looked as though he were a puppy dog who desperately wanted to be next to her again, and so she called him over.

Grabbing his hand, she kissed it. "Babe, are you ready to tell everyone her name?" she asked, as Max exclaimed "Yes! Please just tell us already!"

She laughed. "Okay. Everyone, we are proud to introduce you to Lillian Rebecca Gibbler. She's twenty inches long and weighs six pounds, three ounces. And I'm going to gamble here and say her feet are about a half size. Not one. Just one half."

There was a quiet laughter as they all took it in. Took Lillian in.

"Wait, Steph, are you serious? Her middle name's Rebecca? As in me, Rebecca?"

Stephanie nodded, yes. "Aunt Becky, ever since you came into my life – our lives, you've been that person for me, the mother for me that I knew I needed, and wanted, but never truly had, because my own left us all too soon. And I love you for that. Thank you for stepping up, without overstepping. And Lily…she has a piece of you with her, and I hope that she'll be as bonded to you in time as I am. I really love our relationship, it's so special to me and I love you and – "

Stephanie couldn't say anymore, due to both an onslaught of strong emotions and the fabric of her aunt's sweater covering her mouth as she'd bent down to hug her, tight. As tight as she could ever remember being hugged, and as a Tanner, she'd grown up being in receipt of those left and right, while giving out her fair share.

"Aunt Becky, watch the baby," she whispered, but she knew her aunt wasn't stupid, knew that her body wasn't even close to hurting her daughter there on her chest, but it was more of a matter of her survival. She could barely breathe.

"Sorry," Becky apologized, leaning back from her. "I love you too, Steph. More than you can even imagine. I love that we can talk about anything, and that you trust me…and this is going to sound corny, but I needed you too, baby girl.

"You, and your two other beautiful sisters, gave me the confidence to be a mother to Nicky and Alex, because I'd sort of done it with you. I can never replace the one and only Pamela Tanner, never, ever, and I know you know that, but I still want you to know how touched I am."

"Enough to suffocate me," she remarked, desperate suddenly to lighten the mood.

It worked. Everyone laughed, and then there was a fight about who was going to hold the baby first. She shook her head. Her family was one wild bunch.

"No pushing, no shoving, and no touching without hand sanitizer," Stephanie told them, and winked at her aunt before getting Jimmy to place the baby in her readied arms.

"Oh, Stephanie," Becky sighed, staring down at the baby, asleep, with not a wrinkle of thought in the dainty, porcelain features of her face. Lily was blissfully unaffected by her surroundings and the people around her; it was as though she already knew them all somehow, and drew, from their presence, comforting peace that allowed for uninterrupted sleep.

"You're a rock star. You and Daddy both."

Stephanie smiled up at her boyfriend, who squeezed her shoulder. "We are, aren't we? Our little baby person is quite the looker, if I do say so myself. And I do," she giggled.

"That's because her Mommy is the most beautiful woman on the planet," he told her, giving her cheek a smack-inducing kiss.

"Don't you sell yourself short, babe. You're the most attractive Gibbler out of them all. Not including our girl."

She gave Kimmy and Ramona a teasing smirk, noticing that the baby had been passed from DJ to Kimmy when she wasn't paying attention, and that Kimmy was now giving Lily much the same look that everyone else who'd held her had given. She hadn't even heard Stephanie's comment, and neither had her daughter, apparently, because there wasn't a reaction.

"So, she's a Gibbler?" Kimmy asked, cooing at the infant in her arms.

For over two years, hearing the name hasn't made her flinch, or have the sudden and intense urge to vomit; now that it was the name of the man she loved like no other person, and the name attached to her sweet little girl, her natural instinct when hearing it, was to smile. And proudly, at that.

"She's a Gibbler."

"Half Gibbler. She's half Tanner too." DJ interjected, and Stephanie laughed at her sister's insistence of this.

It was as far from blithe as one could ever get. Even though she was now legally a Fuller, and has been since 2005, her older sister was oddly attached to her maiden name, felt as though it meant something, something important, to be a Tanner. As a Tanner herself, Stephanie felt it too, but there was also something exciting, an out-of-the-box feeling, that she could only assume was attached to the Gibbler name, and more than anything, if only to be closer in that way to Jimmy and their daughter, she wanted to know what it was like. Soon.

"It's already been discussed. And yes, she is half Tanner, but she'll be half Tanner in her heart, because her name is not being hyphenated," Stephanie said with laugh. "It'd be too long and sound too awkward."