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"Francis!" Claire gasped as she looked at herself sideways in their mirror, staring at her stomach with a smile. "There's a bump."

"A bump?" Francis asked, his voice muffled from his body under the covers of their bed. He lifted the bedspread enough to see his wife and what she was doing. He frowned, not recognizing what she did. "What do you mean? Should we call the doctor to get it tested?"

Claire rolled her eyes, meeting Francis's eyes through the mirror. "Not a lump. A bump! The baby is growing. It's not much, but we can at least see she's there now." She ran a hand down her stomach before letting the shirt of Francis's she'd thrown on drop back over her torso. "She's not just a heartbeat anymore."

Francis smiled as Claire sunk back down onto their mattress, wrapping her arm around her waist and easily pulling her under the covers to lay beside him. "That book you got about pregnancy said the baby is around five inches right now. I could fit it in my pocket, Claire." He continued when he got a laugh out of her. "Five inches. That's like, what? A pear? A bell pepper?"

"Stop," Claire giggled into his bare chest, "you'll make me hungry."

Francis grinned, kissing the top of her head. "We've never made it this far before."

"I know." Claire murmured softly. It was true. Their last pregnancy had made it to sixteen weeks, and this pregnancy had just hit week seventeen. It felt like they had been holding their breath, waiting for a pin to drop, but the day had been just like any other. Nothing had threatened to expose the baby, and they hadn't backed out of their decision to move forward. It was bittersweet to say the least thinking of what was to come compared to what could've been. "But, we weren't going back on her."

"No," Francis agreed, "we weren't. But, this does mean we have to do something we have never done before."

Claire lifted her head, giving him a curious gaze. "What's that?"

Francis sighed, giving her a gentle squeeze. "We have to tell your parents." He flexed his arms to keep her against him when she went to move out of the bed and away from the conversation. "Claire, your parents cannot find out they have a grandchild from some stranger or God forbid the news covering the campaign. They'd be devastated, and I know that you'd rather tell your father."

"Of course, I would." Claire breathed, throwing her head back against the bed and staring up at the ceiling. "My father would be overjoyed. I still remember the look on his face when I mentioned not wanting kids. He understood where I came from, but his eyes. . .Francis, it looked like I'd broken something in him. My stance on children didn't change, but it made me ask myself why he wanted grandchildren."

"So, what made you change your stance?" Francis asked, honestly curious. For as much as they'd talked about pregnancies and had dealt with them, they hadn't talked about what made them decide to proceed with the previous pregnancy for as long as they did, nor this pregnancy.

"I want to say biology." Claire huffed out before smiling. "But, it probably has something more to do with you."

Francis snorted, easing his way to hover over her and off to the side. "I don't know what I could've possibly contributed to that decision." He brushed back some of her hair, letting the blonde locks weave between his fingers. "Pretty sure the first kid I was forced to hold at a campaign rally I told you to take within five seconds."

Claire chuckled. "More like two. It was like you were playing hot potato." She reached up, cupping the side of his face and letting her thumb caress along his cheekbone. "I've never wanted anything with anybody until you, Francis. That first time I thought I might be pregnant, instead of thinking about how to terminate I started wondering what a kid from the two of us would be like. I don't know. Just always thought it would be fun to have someone that was a little bit of the both of us, having some of our traits and mannerisms."

"Okay," Francis shook his head quickly, as if trying to knock an idea out of his head, "I think you're giving me baby fever, because I'm actually considering another one after we have the one who's just become bump-size."

Claire threw her head back, laughing hard watching Francis's own thoughts unravel across his face. "Let's just see how one goes for a while. Between the two of us, I think this child will be a handful if she's even remotely like us." She leaned up, kissing Francis softly. "You never wondered what she'd be like?"

"I've just been worrying how the hell I'm going to raise a child." Francis admitted before throwing himself back on the bed and covering his face with his hands. "Oh, Claire. What have we done? She's going to be negotiating nap time and bed time and snacks before she's old enough to go to school." He felt Claire straddle his waist, heard her shushing him softly. "I was just worried I was going to drop her or really screw her up, but we're doomed if she's anything like me. Oh my God! Politics. Claire, she'll unionize her kindergarten class to receive more recess time."

"Francis," Claire laughed, prying his hands away from his face, "I think you're overthinking this too much. Yes, we may have a handful on our hands, but she'll be a handful we'll learn. Remember. She starts out small. If she starts raising trouble, all we have to do is pick her up and put her in time out or something."

"No time outs." Francis stated adamantly. "I planned some of my greatest plans in time out."

Claire smirked, cocking an eyebrow at him. She slowly moved his hands to her waist under the shirt, hoping to relieve some of his sudden anxiety feeling the realness of her and the state of their baby in the moment. "Alright, no time outs. We'll find things for her to do, but, honey, we'll figure it out together. We're going to screw her up. Every parent does that to their child. But, she won't have our issues."

Francis exhaled sharply, still a little wound up. "Just different ones we'll send her to therapy for." He sighed, shaking his head before looking down at Claire's stomach. "You better take after your mother. You'll still get up to trouble, but at least we won't find out about half of it. I've gotten better at it, but I got in a lot of trouble as a kid." He met Claire's eyes, wanting to be annoyed with her amused expression but finding it hard to muster anything but a smile. "You really want a kid with me?"

"Only you." Claire admitted. "I wouldn't consider having someone else's baby. You've always treated me as your equal, Francis. Even though you've been more protective of me since we learned I was pregnant, I know it's because you want us to be safe. Me and the baby." She leaned down and pecked his lips. "Part of us will be in her, Francis. We'll live on. Not just in history books or in pictures in the White House. Pieces of us will continue on with her and further if she decides she wants kids."

Francis groaned softly. "I'm not letting a boy lay a hand on her. I know we don't really put much merit in faith or religion, but I will raise her to be a nun, Claire." He reached up to the buttons of his shirt on Claire as she giggled softly. "Let's just worry about raising her to walk and talk so she can tell us what she's thinking for the time being."

"Deal." Claire bit her lip when he unfastened the last button, his hands moving back to her stomach without a barrier in his way. "She's going to love you, Francis."

"I sure hope so." Francis muttered.

Claire walked into the house the next night, pleasantly surprised to see her husband in the kitchen with dinner made. "Well, Francis, what is the occasion?"

Francis smiled before kissing her hello. "No occasion. I need to spend some more time at the office with Remy and Doug and snuck away for a bit so I could at least make something for you. I know the morning sickness has gone, but I'd feel better knowing I wasn't leaving you to make something where the smells could make you sick."

"I don't know if anything could make me sick." Claire chuckled as she set her things down on the counter. She reached down and took of her heels, her body relaxing out of business mode. "I swear, Francis. Somebody was eating sardines at lunch today, and my mouth actually watered. Baby Underwood makes me want to eat everything." She went for the cabinets, grabbing plates and glasses for the both of them. "But, you could've stayed at the office. Won't coming home for this just make you be there later?"

"With Doug there now, it's not as much of a hassle. He's new, but he's good." Francis replied, not wanting his wife to worry about his work schedule. "Plus, he's straightforward. Remy, he's brilliant, but he's always got his own agenda."

Claire bit her lip, sitting down at the counter while Francis chose to stand across from her. "If you can't trust him, we should get rid of him, Francis. Even if he doesn't know much about what we've done, he knows enough. When he finds out we're expecting. . .we both know he doesn't have limits when he's not attached to the situation. He'll use her."

"I'm going to make it very clear what will happen if he ever tries to use her." Francis stated. "Besides, we're too close to the finish line. If we win, he'll settle down his less favorable tactics. I won't put you two in jeopardy, Claire. I promise you that. If he doesn't prove to me that he can keep the baby hidden, I don't see a reason to get rid of him." He gestured to the phone. "Speaking of keeping the baby hidden though, I think it's time we break that rule and told your parents."

"You make me want to go back to the office." Claire groaned, dropping her face into her hands. "Can't we just wait until she's like eighteen or something?"

Francis chuckled, grabbing the phone off the cradle and joining her at the counter by sitting next to her. "I'm sure the shock would kill your mother."

"Even better." Claire argued.

"Claire," Francis warned although still laughing, "c'mon. I would think your mother would be happy to hear news she's getting a grandchild."

Claire sighed. "I would hope so. Can never really tell with her." She jutted her chin at him, glancing at the phone. "Go ahead. Let's get this over with." She watched as Francis dialed her parents' number, leaning closer to him when he held the phone between their ears so they could both listen to the phone call.

"Hello?"

Claire smiled, relief flooding through her. "Hi, Daddy."

"Princess!" Charlie's voice immediately warmed. "How are you doing? How is Frank doing? I try to check in on the polls to see how his campaign is doing. It seems he's impressing the people."

"We're both doing very good, Daddy." Claire laughed, happy to see the proud smile on Francis's face. "He's on the call too. He has to go back in tonight to work on the campaign, but we wanted to call before he left."

Charlie paused for a moment. "What's going on? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Charlie. We just have some news." Francis reassured him. "Actually, we sort of have a gift for you."

"A gift? For what?" Charlie frowned. "It's not my birthday. Christmas is a ways off."

Claire ran her hand through her hair, taking a deep breath. "Well, Daddy, this gift isn't going to be here for a while anyway. Won't even be here for Christmas. She'll be here early February from what we've been told." She almost giggled when her father started mumbling the words to himself, obviously struggling to put together the puzzle. "We don't have a name for her yet, but when she learns how to talk she'll call you Papa."

Charlie gasped. "No way! I'm going to be a grandpa!"

Francis laughed. "Yes, Charlie. Claire is making you a grandchild as we speak." He grinned when Claire snorted out a laugh of her own. "I know that we should've told you sooner, but we wanted to be sure everything was right before we let the cat out of the bag."

"Pregnant." Charlie breathed, still in awe. "My baby is having a baby. I never thought I would get this phone call."

Claire flashed back to the moment with her father, when she uttered the words she didn't want to be a mother. "Aw, Daddy, I didn't think I'd ever make this call. Neither of us did. We both didn't want kids when we were dating, even when we got married. We're still scared out of our minds, but we've both decided to go with this." She met Francis's eyes, biting her lip when he stared back at her with nothing but pride. She was always happy to see that look on his face, but it always set a wave of butterflies off in her stomach when she knew that look was about her.

Charlie chuckled. "I'm still scared out of my mind half the time worrying about you. Both of you now." He let out a sigh of relief. "It's part of being a parent I guess. Congrats to both of you though. I'd hug you if I was there. Actually, Frank, I'd drink with you if I were there."

"Have a drink for the both of us." Francis grinned. "We'll celebrate next time we see you."

"Sounds like a plan." Charlie agreed. He paused again. This time though, the conversation turned more tense. "I supposed I should have your mother come to the phone so she can hear the good news."

Claire inhaled sharply, shaking her head despite her words. "She should know too."

They both waited as they heard Charlie calling for Elizabeth, hearing her snip at him for waking up the whole neighborhood yelling for her. After some rustling and Charlie excusing himself to go to the bar, Elizabeth's voice came over the phone. "Hello?"

"Mother." Claire greeted, trying to sound like she wanted to have this conversation. She was sure on some level her mother wanted a grandchild, but she also knew her mother hated Francis and questioned every decision she had ever made. While telling her mother she would be a grandmother was something she knew should be done, it was news she felt very protective of. News she knew Francis was protective of. "How are you?"

"Claire," Elizabeth's tone was anything but welcoming, verging on annoyed that she had been bothered to take the phone call. "This is a surprise. When you call, you don't typically talk to me. What'd you do? Leave that husband of yours yet?"

"I'm here too, Elizabeth." Francis piped in.

"Of course, you are." Elizabeth huffed out. "So, what is it?"

Claire wanted to plead with Francis to keep Elizabeth in the dark, but she knew it would be childish. With her father knowing now, she'd find out anyway. "Francis and I are expecting. I'm pregnant, Mother."

"For the love of God," Elizabeth bellowed, "why the hell did you let that happen? Claire, you're lying to me, aren't you? You can't possibly think you and that bastard of a husband of yours would be good at raising a child."

"Mother, stop it." Claire sighed, closing her eyes.

"I will not!" Elizabeth fought back. "You've always been selfish, Claire. Selfish people make attention starved children. You cannot raise a child. Neither of you can. You two only think about yourselves, never caring who might get hurt. That baby wish it was dead. I hope it dies before you ever have a chance to hold it. It would be better for that baby."

Francis nearly growled. "How dare you."

Elizabeth shouted. "How dare you! You'd be better as a messenger for Satan than you would be as a father. The only reason my daughter married you was because she can't take care of herself. She's always needed a boy or a man around, and it's caused nothing but trouble. If that baby is anything like her, she'll be after the boys by the time she's five. She'll cling to anyone who gives her attention. Just like Claire, she'll marry for stability, not love."

Before Elizabeth or Francis could escalate things further, Claire grabbed the phone from Francis and ended the call, dropping the plastic device on the counter without a care if she broke it or not. She was honestly proud of herself for not chucking the phone out the nearest window. Her blood was raging through her system so fast she could hear it in her ears. "I knew she was cruel, but I never expected that."

"She's wrong, Claire." Francis breathed, reaching out and placing a comforting hand on her back. "She doesn't know us."

"But, we are selfish." Claire admitted, meeting his eyes as hers glazed over. "We both agreed not to have kids because we didn't want to screw them up like we were. We didn't want to bring kids into this world. I chose to keep her. I ran out of our guest room and was willing to walk away from you just to have her."

Francis cupped her face in his hands. "But, that's the thing, Claire. We're being selfish, but we're choosing her. Your mother thinks we can only think of ourselves and our dreams and goals. We didn't want a kid because of everything we wanted to do, but we're still having her because we want her more." He stood, pulling her against his chest. "I promise you, Claire. She's wrong."

Claire ran a hand over her stomach, knowing that she'd do anything for her child. They didn't have a name, hadn't seen her, hadn't even felt her move yet, but Claire loved her more than anybody or anything she'd ever known. She glanced across the kitchen, seeing the time shine back at them on the microwave. "Remy and Doug are going to start wondering where you are."

"I'll call them and tell them I can't do tonight. I-" Francis began but stopped when Claire pulled back far enough to gently place her fingers over his mouth.

"Go, Francis. I'll be fine." Claire urged him. "I'll probably finish eating, take a bath, and head to bed anyway."

Francis sighed. "Are you sure? I'd be more than happy to stay here."

Claire gave him a small, reassuring smile. "Go work on winning a campaign for our baby." She pecked his lips, seeing the hesitation in his eyes, before gently pushing him towards the door. "We'll be here when you get back."

"Alright," Francis sighed, still not really wanting to leave. He grabbed his things before glancing at her one last time. "I love you, both of you."

"Love you too." Claire returned before watching him leave the kitchen, hearing when he left the house and locked the doors behind him. She glanced back at the phone, silently suffocating the part of herself that held a glimmer of hope to one day have a good relationship with her mother.

After eating and bathing, Claire planned on heading to bed but found herself sitting on the counter, in the dark, with the phone pressed to her ear. This time, she didn't have to pretend to want to talk to her mother. When Elizabeth answered the phone, she didn't bother with a greeting. "It's just you and me now, Elizabeth."

"Little shit." Elizabeth muttered. "I am still your mother."

"That's been debatable now for years." Claire retorted. "After what you said about my baby tonight, you've got a lot of nerve still trying to demand respect. How foolish was I to think you might've been happy to hear you were having a grandchild? I won't be making that mistake again."

Elizabeth huffed out a breath. "I'd be happier if the father was anyone else. You know I loathe him. Why would I want you to have a child with him? You'll be tied to him forward, and he's devious. He'll screw you over the first chance he gets."

"Francis and I love each other. I married him intending to spend my life with him." Claire retorted, bringing her legs up onto the counter too. "I've never wanted children. I told Daddy that years ago, because I never wanted to make a child feel as shitty as you've made me feel. But, Francis changed that. He makes me want more than I've ever wanted, and it's because it's possible with him. Because, I love him."

"You love the idea of him, Claire." Elizabeth argued, shaking her head. "He's got goals. I'll give him that. Goals that will get him to powerful places and positions if he accomplishes them. That's what you're drawn to. Every person I've ever known you to be with has been artistic and free-spirited. I always wanted you to get together with Adam Galloway. He'd be a great father."

"I'm sure he would." Claire breathed. "And, I care for Adam. I still visit him every once and a while, but he and I are never good together for too long. He treats me like he needs to protect me, like I'm fragile. I feel lost with him." She bit her lip, gazing back down at her stomach. "As much as you don't like him, I love Francis. He treats me as his equal. He wasn't another guy who was only into me for my looks, and I know that the baby and I are his entire world. Everything he does is to make things better for us."

Elizabeth sighed. "I love you, Claire, but you're blind if you don't see what he really is."

"I'm very aware of what he's capable of." Claire whispered, never used to hearing those three words uttered by her mother. "You're just too selfish to open your eyes and see that I'm happy. You never gave Francis a chance, and you turn your nose up at everything I do. If I had gone off with Adam and created a life wit him, you would've found something wrong with him. You would've found something wrong with anybody I chose." She took a deep breath. "You and Daddy gave me everything growing up, but you made me miserable my whole childhood. Here, we struggle to make ends meet. We're saving pennies to try and prepare for our baby. We sleep on a mattress on the floor because we don't have a bed frame. Despite all that, I'm happy. I'm happy because I have Francis. And, my daughter will be happy, because she'll never have to wonder if her mother loves her. She'll never deal with what you put me through."

Elizabeth scoffed. "You make me sound as evil as your husband. I was a wonderful mother to you, Claire."

"I'm sure you tried your best," Claire offered, "but don't hold your breath for me to tell you how good you were as a parent. And, don't worry about becoming a grandmother. As far as my daughter will be concerned, you'll just be the woman who is married to her grandfather. You wished her dead. Well, you're dead to her."

Francis padded quietly into the bedroom, trying not to disturb his sleeping wife. His efforts were all in vain though when he lowered to the mattress and stirred Claire into awareness. "Hey, it's just me. Go back to sleep."

"What time is it?" Claire mumbled, snuggling into Francis's arms when he laid down beside her.

"Almost three." Francis whispered, closing his eyes when his head hit his pillow.

Claire hummed softly. "How was the strategy meeting with Remy and Doug?"

"Well," Francis stated. "We got final dates for my tour mapped out. I'll be all yours when Baby Underwood is ready to enter the world. I didn't want any distractions." He leaned down and kissed her head, peaking down to her face. "That is if Baby Underwood will still be here."

Claire frowned, opening her eyes to gaze up at him. "Why wouldn't she be?"

Francis's whole body relaxed as he sighed in relief. "I don't know. I got a little worried that your mother's words may have gotten to you. I know how she likes to get under your skin and spread worries that you shouldn't worry about." He shrugged softly, glad the dark room was hiding his blush. "Wouldn't want to have to fight you to keep her too. Didn't think I would be, but you've caused me to grow attached."

Claire smiled before closing her eyes again. "I'm glad to hear that, because our house still looks like same before we found out we were pregnant."

"Not exactly." Francis murmured. He felt Claire's body tense as her curiosity got the best of her. He glanced towards their bedroom door. "I may or may not have felt a need to prepare for her, so the guest room may or may not look a little different." He groaned when Claire shot out of the bed, heading straight for the guest bedroom down the hallway. He begrudgingly followed her. "I was going to show you in the morning."

"Oh, honey," Claire smiled, looking around the room. It was hardly changed. It was pretty bare before with tan walls and a beige carpet. It was underwhelming. Now, the walls were a lilac purple color, the baseboards were white, fresh paint by the smell of the room, and the handful of baby clothes they'd gotten were hanging in the closet. "When did you do this?"

Francis scratched the back of his head. "Tonight. We finished work around eleven. I saw you were up watching TV when we pulled up, so we broke into the room through the window. By the way, it was alarmingly easy to do, so I've already called someone to get better locks on the house. I'm not leaving you here alone at night until it's done." He pointed inside the room. "By the time we taped everything, painting, let it dry somewhat, and got the window to lock, you were in bed."

Claire smiled, stepping out of the room and closing the door to protect herself from the paint aromas. She turned to Francis, draping her arms over his shoulders and she pressed herself against him. "You really do want her."

"Scares me how much I do." Francis nodded.

Claire kissed him gently. "Me too. I called my mother again after you left for the office, wanted to know why my mother wished such heinous things for the baby." She sighed, shaking her head. "You were right. She's doesn't know me, know us, not like we know each other anyway. While what she said was hurtful and across the line, it made me realize that I don't want her approval. I don't need it. It doesn't matter to me. I'm happy without her."

Francis smiled, dropping his forehead to hers. "Me too."

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