Fritz watches his wife through a classroom window. She is sitting on a bench in the garden. Her aunt had taken such care in planning the landscape of this old house. The gardens circle the building as if it were placed in the middle of an enchanted forest. He watches the wind whip her loose hair around her face while she reads.
The clock strikes three and he dismisses his last class of the day. He sneaks up behind his wife and takes her hair in his hands. He pulls it off of her neck and replaces the thick strands with his lips.
"Professor, this is most inappropriate with children lurking about…" she teases as she tries to resist his urges. "I need to finish grading these essays…" she groans. She cannot resist his caresses and returns his grazing with sweet, loving kisses. She gathers all of her papers and they rush to a classroom. "You are impossible these days, Professor," she whispers.
"I cannot help but act on these thoughts, darling," he tells her.
"It seems you have thoughts every time you look at me lately." He smiles at the truth behind her statement.

They move quickly, aware that some children may not have left the courtyard for home yet.

He removes her shawl as they crash through the door. She throws the papers on a desk and starts to help him undress.
"Jo, mein Jo," he whispers to her gently.

"I love you so much," she whispers back.

…

They sneak out of the classroom one at a time, entering the dark hallway on tiptoes.

"I do not see anyone," he tells her.
"Wait, why are we being cautious?" she asks suddenly.
"What?"
"This is our house!" she laughs.

"I still do not think people would approve of sexual relations in classrooms," Fritz warns jokingly.

"True…" she admits.

They hold hands and ascend the stairs to their part of the old building.
"Are you hungry?" Fritz asks her.

"Starving!" she answers. She absentmindedly rubs her hand over her stomach, and she notices that he smiles at this. "What?" she demands.
"You look beautiful, mein Professorin."

"Beautiful?"
"I know men should not, but I have noticed that being with child has started to show on you, my love."

"Really?" she asks, placing a hand on her abdomen, as if to measure. "I was unsure if it was just in my mind."
"It is not much, but I can see too. It looks well on you, darling. It fills me with such joy, to see you in this way." She frowns at this thought.
"Mein Jo, I know you are still unsure, but you are going to be such a wonderful mother…" She quickly gets up from her chair. "Jo…"
"I just need some air," she tells him as she exits the small room. He knows that he has upset her, but he decides to let her be. In time she will also come to terms with being a parent.

…

Night is falling when she finally returns to their home. Fritz is reading by the fireplace, and she enters the room quietly, so as not to disturb him.

Without looking up from his book, he says, "How was your walk?"

"It was nice," she admits. "I visited Beth. If anyone has answers for me, it is her."

"Mein Jo, for what questions are you seeking answers?"
"I cannot tell you." He looks at her sadly. She continues, "Not yet, anyway." He accepts her answer and hugs her. She lets his large hands cradle her shoulders.
"We should visit your mother," he tells her.
"Marmee? Why do we need to visit her?"

"Do you not agree that she should know to expect another grandchild?"

"I had forgotten!" Jo exclaims. "You are right. She will be giddy with joy. Everyone expected children from Meg, and even young Amy, but not from me."

"How shall we tell her, darling?" Fritz grins.
"We must do it in a fun way. I know, I shall write a play! In it, we will slowly convince Marmee that I am pregnant, but we must be sneaky about it."
"That sounds wonderful!" he cheers, glad to see her old fire again.

"We shall make the family act it out at Thanksgiving dinner!"
"Brilliant!"

"I will visit Amy and Laurie tomorrow. They should know our secret. Oh, they will be so excited!" She whisks away to her office, already testing dialogue as she closes the door behind her. Fritz sighs happily, glad that she has a task to do.
"Maybe that is what was missing," he says to himself.
When he wakes to the morning light, she is still in her office, madly scribbling dramatic prose.
"How is the play?" he asks, entering the messy room cautiously.
"It is wonderful!" she tells him excitedly. "I have written you a brave part– with passion and vigor." He smiles at her, thrilled to see her excitement.

"Does that displease you, darling?" she asks.
"Not at all. I shall act with as much vigor as your words command." She smiles widely and returns to her pages.
"Mein Professorin?" he asks, trying to regain her attention.
"Hm?" she barely responds.
"Were you not going to visit your sister?"

"Tomorrow," she waves.
"It is tomorrow, love."
"Is it? I was lost in my writing. It has been a while since I was so captivated by a story."

"I love seeing you this way. This is how I first fell in love with you, you know?"

"Oh?" she grins.
"I was captivated by the strange girl contained in the small room– writing as if the words were exploding from her fingertips. And when you would look up at me, just for a quick glance, I would silently chuckle at the ink that always decorated your face."

"I do not always have ink upon my face!" she argues.
"When you are writing you do," he says as he rubs a smudge off of her fair cheek.

"I should go to Amy's before it gets too late in the day."