**Two Step, Dave Matthews Band**

So here she was, sitting up at 1 AM on a Tuesday, a former Olympic hopeful, barely eighteen years old, and soon to be a mother. She was pleasantly warm under the covers and now that Garth had relaxed into dreamless sleep she ought to be able to cuddle up and let her over stretched muscles melt into him. But a restless anxiety gnawed at her. It reminded her of the way she felt the night before a big gym meet when she would pack and repack her bag three or four times just to keep the inevitable crazy fears at bay, like the thoughts about sticking the landing and then looking down to find herself naked. She needed something to do.

She slipped out from under his arm and carefully swung her legs toward the floor. At this point in her pregnancy she had learned not to twist her body too fast because the inertial resistance of the twins easily strained her already relaxed ligaments. But she really couldn't move fast anyway. After a quick trip to the bathroom she looked around the tiny apartment for some excuse to be awake. There wasn't much that she could have left undone last night given that they were living in a two room hotel suite and she had cleaned up before putting herself to bed. Something out of place in the kitchenette area caught her eye. A box of cereal, a packet of nuts, and a paperback lay on the little kitchen counter beside a note that said, "Got you everything you need, a hot guy and sustenance. Don't forget you are supposed to be resting." in Garth's bold script. She shook her head at the idea of him worrying over her as she picked up the book and read the blurb on the back cover.

She eyed the couch with disdain. After spending months seven and eight on bedrest, the couch had become her own personal purgatory. She tried to perch on a barstool instead. She could stay here, snack on some nuts, and have some quality time with Zane, the handsome cowboy riding across the cover of her novel without so much as a shirt on. Or she could lay down wide awake and count the ceiling tiles. It was very likely that all 384 of them were still there. She hadn't felt this much like a caged animal since those long days stuck on the third floor of that old high school building.

After trying to focus for a few chapters she tossed the book down with a frustrated sigh. Zane had all the characteristics she loved. He was smart and confident and funny. But the simpering blond the author had paired him with didn't have enough common sense to fill a Dixie cup and she could tell she wouldn't be able to finish the story. With a heave, she got up to circle the room, trying to imagine what it was going to be like in here with two babies. Velasquez was planning to move them to Fort Leonard Wood in a few weeks so they had decided not to move to a bigger place when it was offered. But right now it felt a little crowded with all the baby gear set up. She stopped at the dresser, which was laid out as a changing table. She had come home from the Greens' baby shower a little sad that the strain with her mother meant that she wouldn't get the same experience only to find that Emma and her friends had set up a bunch of baby stuff in their apartment as a surprise. She picked up the little note on top of the basket of diapers and read it for the 100th time. She was going to cherish her sister's words forever.

"Dear Riley, You are the best big sister a little sister could ever have. I hope your girls grow up knowing they will always have each other the way we do. I can't wait to meet them. Love Aunty Em."

She picked up a onesie and held it against her stomach where she was pretty sure Baby 1 was lying. It looked comically small against the dancing bananas on her pajamas. Were they really going to be that small? With shaking hands she folded it and put it back where it belonged. Sometimes it felt like everything was ready except for her.

Her eyes picked out Garth's boots by the closet door where they would rest for far too short a night. She really didn't care if their room was a little messy but it was something to do so she bent to pick them up. As she did, the babies gave a yawn, at least that was how she envisioned it, that stretched her in two different directions and she had to stop short, one hand on the closet door, the other on the dresser, to breath through it. They were getting less rambunctious as they got more crowded, but when they decided to shift around, it was all she could do not to wince in pain. All her years of training had not prepared her for bruises from the inside out. "Settle down bunnies." She patted her belly as she stepped into the closet. But as she leaned forward to set the boots on the low shelf another big tumble stole her breath.

"Oh no, oh no." Panic seized her. She wasn't ready. No way. No how. She was supposed to have more time. "Garth?" He grunted but didn't wake up. As the feeling passed and she resumed her slow motion cleaning routine she chided herself for getting in a panic over a little baby roll. He needed to get as much sleep as he could. But then it happened again. She glanced at the clock on the microwave, it was only 4:15 and she was supposed to have the whole weekend before her appointment damn it! She'd had some mild contractions for the last few weeks but nothing like that! She stood there watching the clock to see if it happened again. Sure enough, at 4:23 another hit, this one followed by a rapid trickle of fluid wetting her fuzzy monkey slippers. And shit, that hurt already. Her lying mother had promised she would get to the hospital and be all set up with some good drugs before it started to hurt.

"Garth get up." The only response was a deep snore. She had never met anyone who could sleep through chaos like he could. "Hey! Get up" Damn, where was her cool composure now? "Garth!" Ow, it hurt to yell.

His snore stopped with a snort and he pushed up to peer at her in the dark, "Mmmhum?" One long pale arm reached out and patted her usual spot. "Did I oversleep again?"

One of their neighbors, PO Miller from the sound of it, pounded on the wall. "Hey, give it a rest newleyweds. It's 4 AM!"

She giggled. The first month after they moved in they had regularly teased the sailor by making grotesque noises on purpose. But the laughing caused her muscles to move against the next contraction as it was building and she ended on an "Owww."

"Is everything ok?" Garth was already half out of bed.

"Nope. Not ok over here. Your daughters have decided to make a break for it; it fucking hurts; and I don't think I can move."

He grabbed his pants. "Now? They're coming now?"

"Yessssss." She ground out as her clenching muscles reached their peak. If she made a fool of herself going in for false labor, she didn't care. She wanted to see her doctor and she wanted to see her now!

While he started lacing his boots she closed her eyes and hung on through another contraction. Either she was much more of a weakling than she'd always thought or her body had decided to skip the warm up phase she'd been promised. In the gap between contractions she felt fine so she kicked off her wet slippers and began removing her jammie pants. "Weren't they supposed to start like 15 minutes apart or something? Are you sure you haven't just wet your pants?" Garth looked up from where he was fiddling around the dark nightstand for his phone and watch. "Is this a drill to make sure I'm ready?" She felt frozen with no idea what to do. Damn, she hadn't thought of doing a practice drill which was a shame because apparently she was the one that needed a dry run. "Because I am ready. I have the bag. I have the phone. I will text your sister in a minute. Oh, and I'll get you a towel and some water for the ride." He headed for the kitchenette. "You just finish getting dressed and we can go."

She needed shoes. She couldn't see her flipflops underneath her belly but she wiggled her toes into them as best she could and waddled toward the door. "Ok, let's go." Her heart was pounding in her chest. This was it. The next time she came in this room she'd have two tiny people who depended on her. She started the pep talk she had rehearsed. She could do this. Dr. Lindstrom would be there and Garth would be there and it would just be a short procedure and…

Garth was standing in front of the door, blocking her way. "Uh Betty, aren't you forgetting something?"

She knew she was looking like him like he had three heads but she couldn't for the life of her remember what it was. He looked like some kind of deranged coat rack, standing there holding about half their belongings and texting her sister. She ran over the list she'd made in her head. He had her bag, his bag, a diaper bag, a towel, water, the snacks she'd packed, her green and purple quilt, a phone, and keys. What else was there? She put her hand on her hip. "Garth, I don't have time for this. I am getting the impression that these girls are just about as impatient as I usually am. Whatever it is, you can come back for it after."

He raised one overloaded arm to point at her lower body. "Pants?"

She felt rather than looked. Yes, she needed pants. Another contraction gripped her. Drugs would be good right about now. Drugs were at the hospital. Putting on pants would definitely delay her arrival. As it passed she reached for the towel to wrap around herself. "You know what, if I have you then I have all that I need. Let's go!"

The hospital was just as dark and creepy as it had been during her appointments but this time when they reached the parking lot she was less reluctant to go inside. Her father was reaching for the door of the truck almost before the truck stopped moving and she just barely slapped her hand over the lock button in time to stop him. "You called my father?"

Garth shrugged. "I called your sister like you asked me to. She must have told him. I'll send him ahead to let them know we're coming in." He slipped out the driver's side door and she watched the reflection of him greeting Mike in the side mirror. Her Dad looked more flustered than she'd ever seen him but it was also the first time she'd seen him slap Garth on the back like that. Men! She rolled her eyes as the next contraction gripped her. They were arriving closer together a lot sooner than she'd expected. Next thing she knew Garth was helping her wrap in her towel and they were headed inside.

Standing up again seemed to shift everything and suddenly her contractions were one on top of another. She waddled into the hospital and the pace of everything seemed to accelerate into a blur of people coming and going. She lost the towel somewhere but her modesty seemed to have disappeared along with the planned C-section. Baby 1 was ready and willing; the doctor that could perform the surgery was half an hour out; and so before she knew it she was sandwiched between Garth and a nurse pushing with all her might. Or maybe she would say that the baby was pushing out of her. She'd never felt anything like it but she sure as hell couldn't stop it. And then baby 2 snuck her way out just twenty minutes later while Garth held her sister in one strong arm and her hand in the other.

If you asked her what the room looked like or the nurse's name, she wouldn't be able to tell you. But the sound of baby 1's first cry or the feel of baby 2's downy hair, those were imprinted permanently in her memory already. She was shocked when she looked up and saw the misty light of sunrise peaking in the blinds of her room.

"Say cheese!" The nurses were bustling around the room, throwing towels in a bin and cleaning up equipment but Garth ignored them all.

"Oh come on! I look terrible! At least let me brush my hair." She protested but he kept snapping away anyway. Vera had fallen asleep five minutes ago and Jayne was still suckling. "And do we really need so many boob pictures?"

"I do. I heard what the doctor said about six weeks so I definitely need those pictures." Her usually restrained husband was bubbling over with joy like a middles school girl with a new hair tool.

"Mr. And Mrs. Simpson-Slattery?" Another nurse stuck her head in the door. "I came to see if you had filled out those birth certificates yet. We like to get them filed on the same shift as the birth, whenever possible."

Garth opened the yellow folder that had been left on the rolling bed table. "Well Betty, who is who?" They had picked the girl's names weeks ago but she insisted they had to meet them before they could decide which baby got which name.

The patient in the room next door was shouting for help and Garth's face momentarily clouded. But he shook it off stepping back to shut her door and mute the sound. "If I haven't said it before, you were amazing. For all your talk of being scared, I think you were the most calm person in the room." She practically glowed under his smile. It had all happened so quickly and she was so excited that in the end it wasn't so much scary as just overwhelming. And now she felt like she had run a marathon but could probably run two or three more. It must be the hormones, she figured.

She pulled Jayne up onto her shoulder so she would cover her breast while she reached out for the forms. The baby let out a tiny cry but settled in under her chin, apparently satisfied to have her mother's body warmth. "I already kind of named them." She offered her husband an apologetic lift of her brow. "This is Jayne and that is Vera." She pointed to the baby nestled in a blanket between her legs, oblivious to everything going on.

"That's good with me." Garth bent over the forms. "Girls, I officially designate you Vera Malory and Jayne Kaylee Simpson-Slattery." He grinned as he carefully filled in the rest of the boxes. "You do want to keep the hyphenated name, right?"

She couldn't sit up to look at the paper without dislodging the twins from their peaceful sleep. "Sorry, you know how he is about his name…" Even her father's grumpy stance toward Garth couldn't dim her mood.

The woman next door's yells were becoming more panicked and the nurse excused herself to go lend assistance. Garth laughed nervously. "He put it that way, on the form. I was just checking." She and Garth had debated quite a bit. After all, it would be perfectly acceptable for their kids to take the name Simpson alone. But knowing what she did about Garth's family, she wanted to have a connection to her's represented as well.

"My dad wrote it that way? No way. My sister must have filled it out."

Garth held it up. Sure enough, there was her father's bold block handwriting declaring the twins last name as Simpson-Slattery. "Well I guess he's finally accepted you." She smiled up at him. "I told you, once he got to know you, especially what a professional you are, that he would love you."

Garth's grin was a mile wide. "I think you're right. While you were taking pictures with Emma he took me aside and hugged me and said he thought I was doing OK as a dad, so far." He winked as he said it, making her heart feel like it just might burst apart with radiance. "I am a lucky man, to have found you Riley Simpson-Slattery."

She blew him a kiss from the top of the world. "And don't you ever forget it!"