Emily yawned at her desk, more exhausted than she'd ever been in her life, as being 22 weeks pregnant was taking its toll. Her back hurt, her feet were slightly swollen and sore, cramps frequently attacked her legs, and she was sweating like crazy. That wasn't what was worrying her most though, because her baby hadn't begun to move yet. That wasn't normal. At her last doctor's visit, he told her that women usually experienced the quickening, the first time the baby moves by the twentieth week. In light of this she had another appointment scheduled for the following Monday.

To further make this situation worse, the past month and a half had been so busy and convoluted that she felt like she was going through everything on her. She'd barely seen Matt through those six weeks, though it wasn't his fault. Emily's new assignment head-shrinking incarcerated HT's had her bouncing around the country. The first three of those six weeks were spent in the North East, visiting federal penitentiaries in: Manhattan, Boston, Philadelphia, Hartford, etc.

Then she was supposed to go back to California, and supposed to be able to see her husband. Then went she went to pick up her ticket and catch her flight, they told her her flight had been changed to Atlanta. This led to an irate call to the supervisor of the little project they had her doing, who told her they were pushing the schedule up. They decided they didn't want her flying around the country too far into her pregnancy.

So then she'd spent two and a half weeks in the deep South, where the officials of every prison she walked into looked at her like she was nuts. A few even told her that she "shouldn't be going into places like this in her delicate condition." Then three days later she finally caught a plane back to L.A. determined not to leave it or Matt for the next decade. As their luck would have it, Matt's plane left L.A. about an hour and a half before Emily's landed.

Cheryl had driven her home, after having to tell Matt and his new partner to pack and get their asses south, San Diego had their hands full, and there was a small town further south that had an unhinged man with a very large automatic weapon. That was two days ago, and due to piles of paperwork, and then a huge hurricane, he was stuck there. This storm was still raging, blowing through parts of Mexico and southern California, canceling and delaying all sorts of important things, like Matt getting home to her.

"Emily go home," Cheryl demanded, coming out of her office, jacket on and briefcase in her hand.

"I'm just going to finish this," Emily insisted, despite the yawn escaping her.

"No, put the pen down and get out of this office right now."

"Why, it's barely seven?" Emily chose to play dumb at that moment earning herself an impatient look from Cheryl.

"Not only have you stayed past seven the last four days, but you also yawned your way through them. And you're pregnant; you shouldn't be working this hard. Relax, go home."

"Go home to what?" Emily practically spat out.

"He'll be back in a few days," Cheryl gave her a sympathetic look.

"Six weeks Cheryl, six weeks," Emily whined.

"I know, Matt spent the last five reminding me. This little project they gave you was not my idea, though I do take responsibility for Matt's current whereabouts."

"I miss him, and I'm tired of doing this," she gestured to her stomach, "by myself."

"Matt hates it too if that makes you feel any better. I caught him staring at that sonogram photo several times over the last several weeks."

Suddenly at the mention of the sonogram, tears sprung to Emily's eyes, and regardless of the struggle she put up against them, one slid down her cheek. She swiped at it angrily, removing the moisture from her face as another tear trickled down her other cheek.

"Emily? What's wrong?" Cheryl asked worriedly.

"Nothing, nothing," she mumbled back, still swiping at her tears, which only seemed to come faster.

"Alright, come here," Cheryl instructed, guiding her crying friend into the office she'd just walked out of. She flicked on the lights, and they sat on the couch the Bureau was kind enough to put in her office. Cheryl sat there, waiting for Emily to talk.

"I-I'm scared…the baby…it hasn't moved yet," she said quietly.

"Have you talked to your doctor?"

"Yeah, two days ago. I'm going into see him next week."

"Good, Matt will be back by then, he can go with you."

"Yeah…what if there's something wrong?"

"Emily, it could be as simple as the doctor estimated your conception date wrong, you shouldn't worry until there's something to worry about," Cheryl tried to tell her.

"The chances of a miscarriage go up for women in their mid-thirties, Cheryl, I am thirty-five. And I've been running all over the country, that can't have been good for the baby. And I haven't been eating great with all the running around, and I wasn't paying enough attention, I tried to work like I wasn't pregnant, and I drank before I knew I was pregnant, and-" Cheryl cut her off before she could finish listing every little thing she might have been doing wrong.

"Emily, listen to me for a minute. You are not perfect, and you were not born solely to be a baby factory. You are going to make mistakes, but you know what? 99 percent of them end up harmless. You haven't done anything wrong, okay?" Cheryl held her hands and looked straight into her eyes, making sure she was heard.

"But what if my mistake is in that one percent?" Emily asked quietly.

"Those supposed mistakes you listed? They're all the harmless ones. Besides, that baby's mother is what I believe is traditionally referred to as a 'spitfire', and it's father's head is as thick as a rock. If any kid was ever going to survive nine months in the womb and the grueling trip down the birth canal, it's yours," Cheryl told her with a smile.

"Thanks," Emily told her gratefully, though not totally convinced.

"You don't believe a word of what I just said, do you?"

"No, but I do feel a little better. Thanks."

"Anytime. Are you going to be okay tonight then?"

"Yeah, I think am too tired to anything more than pass out."

"So you won't spend the night crying and beating yourself up?"

"I'm pregnant and hormonal, I make no promises."

"Fine, then let's get out of here. You should be at home with your feet up, and a half-empty tub of ice cream on your lap." Cheryl said, practically forcing her out the door.

Meanwhile, Matt was feeling just as miserable, hunkering in a town hall in the tiniest town in California. Though evidently, it wasn't too small to have a psycho who felt the need to take some hostages. So he was stuck there for the third day in a row, hiding from the raging storm. He was also stuck rooming with two dozen other people and growing, who's homes weren't standing up to the storm, or more likely the trees and branches falling.

He felt like he'd hadn't seen Emily in forever, and he missed her like crazy, and worse he felt like he was missing so much with the baby. Sure the idea had freaked him out at first, and it took some getting used to, but now he was genuinely happy and even excited. He often found himself staring at the most recent sonogram photo, where you could almost make out the baby's fingers and toes. If it had been bigger, he might have been able to see them, but the small photo could only offer so much.

That little photo was in his hand at that very moment; he kept it behind his ID, which was always with him. With it he also kept a candid of Emily, smiling and seemingly engaged in a conversation with someone. It was her at her most natural, and it was how he saw her when he closed his eyes. Matt suddenly felt a tugging on his shirt, and there stood a little, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl looking at him.

"Are you a cop?" She couldn't have been more than four or five.

"Yeah, sort of. I'm Matt."

"I told you!" She called to a boy about her age, who stood behind her, then she turned back to Matt. "I'm Maria, and that's Cale, my friend."

"It's nice to meet you both," shaking their tiny hands.

"What are you looking at?" Maria asked.

"This is a picture of my baby, it's still growing inside it's mommy's belly."

"In her belly? She ate it?" Cale asked his eyes growing wide.

"No, silly. When we were babies we were in our mommy's bellies. That's where babies grow," Maria corrected him, raising her head from studying the picture.

That made Matt laugh; Maria reminded him of Emily- smart as a whip, and not shy about making it known, or taking control.

"Let me see the baby," Cale half-asked, half-whined, when Maria took too long with it.

"I'm still looking at it," she insisted.

"It's my turn to see it."

"Alright, how about you look at this one, while she finishes with that one," Matt told him, passing him the photo of Emily.

"I'm done!" Maria suddenly chimed in, handing the sonogram photo to Cale, and taking the one of Emily from Matt. "Is she the mommy?"

"Yep, that's my wife, Emily."

"Hey man, who are your friends?" Matt's new partner Tony Marcellis asked him.

"This is Maria and Cale." Matt told him. The two negotiators got on pretty well. Like every pairing they had occasional spats in the field when they disagreed how to handle an HT, but they were working out pretty well. Though, Matt missed having Emily as his partner terribly; it just wasn't the same.

"Hi, I'm Tony. What's that you've got?" He asked them pointing to the pictures.

"You're his friend, shouldn't you know?" Maria demanded, surprising both Matt and Tony.

"Uh, I guess so. What are those Matt?" He asked his partner, who was watching the little girl with amusement.

"Uh, just some pictures I had on me."

"Of who?"

"Uh, a picture of Emily, and a sonogram photo," he mumbled, those photos were exactly macho.

"Oh, let me see." He took the photo from Cael, as the little boy tried to hand it to Matt.

"That is definitely something man. That kids gotta be this tiny, and you can already see his fingers and toes," Tony commented, staring at the photograph in awe.

Matt nodded slightly uncomfortable; he and his partner hadn't really discussed Emily or the baby much. He didn't bring it up because he didn't want twenty questions about banging and shaking up with your partner, or the ribbing that would come with it. He didn't gush over the baby, because it wasn't really something guys did. He also was just starting to get a feel for the guy, and wasn't inclined to immediately become best friends.

Tony knew that the only reason he was there was because Matt had married and impregnated his last partner, but he didn't know much about them. He'd never brought it up, because being that he knew so little about them, he wasn't sure the marriage wasn't because of the baby. He didn't know if Matt was happy with the situation, and since he never brought up, he figured best not to either. And, he'd barely seen the couple interact, as Emily spent most of her time outside of the office at the prisons, sometimes on long trips, like the last five weeks.

Tony decided to change this. "When is she due?"

"Four and a half more months to go," Matt answered, choosing not to hide his eagerness.

Tony handed Matt the sonogram photo back, as he took the one of Emily. "Do you miss working with her?"

"Everyday, no offense,' he quickly added.

"None taken, I have a buddy in the Washington office, I heard she's really something in the field."

"Yeah, stubborn as hell, but she reads people like nobody I've ever seen before." Matt took the photo back and shoved both pictures back behind his badge. He shoved it back in his jacket, and brought his head back up to see Tony watching him with an odd little smile.

"You really carry those photos with you all the time?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing, just sometimes I forget that there is such a thing as a happy marriage," he shrugged.

"That because of your own experience?"

"Yeah, and others. I was married once, and I can tell you that shrew doesn't come close to her. It failed after a few miserable years, just like every marriage I've ever seen. Except my parents. They are still together, but they hate each other. So, yeah, I don't see many guys look at pictures of their wives like that."

"Thanks, I think," Matt said, not sure quite how to respond.

Tony just nodded, "So I bet you want to get out of here pretty badly."

"You have no idea. I've barely seen Emily in six weeks," Matt finally let out some of his frustration.

"Well the storm is supposed to start letting up tonight, so when it gets lighter, we can take that ugly gas-guzzler out, and hightail it back to San Diego."

"You think that's safe?" Matt asked not quite caring.

"Those SUV things are supposed to be so great in extreme conditions, might as well test it," he said with a grin.

The next morning Emily rose from her cold, empty bed, her heading pounding. She'd put her feet up, and even eaten some ice cream, but she couldn't get the idea that something was wrong with her baby out of her head. Truth was she'd been okay until she'd caught sight of a photograph of Matt and her together at the Team's bar. Lia and smuggled a camera in and snapped pictures of the team that whole night, getting several of the two of them looking very cozy. Needless to say, on top of making her miss Matt even more than she was, she was struck with the thought of having to tell him something might be wrong with the baby. That sent her into full stream waterworks.

Now she had to call Cheryl and tell her she'd be late, since her throbbing head caused her to repeatedly abuse her snooze button. And of course Cheryl tried to tell her to just stay home and relax, but when Emily protested and told her she'd just cry more, Cheryl gave in, and told her whenever she got there was fine. It was a Friday, she'd didn't have any classes.

Before getting into the shower, Emily set up the coffee maker, which had long since been converted to decaf, much to her annoyance. But caffeine is bad for the baby, so both her and Matt slowly and somewhat painfully got used to going without their morning pick-me-up.

She was out of the house by 9:00, an hour after she was usually already at work. Nine is the tail-end of rush hour, and traffic was a bitch to get through, so she made it to the office by 9:30, pissed from a hundred different honking horns, getting rear-ended, and still having her giant headache return.

"Damn, you look like you had a rough morning," Frank greeted her.

"Thanks Frank."

"No, I mean you look really pissed, what happened?"

"Headache, traffic, nimrod asshole drove into my back bumper, and there is still a hurricane in southern California," she rattled off.

"Wait, you got rear-ended? Did you get the moron's insurance info?"

"Yeah, once he saw that I'm both pregnant and FBI he nearly wet himself," she commented bitterly.

Frank burst out laughing at that, already picturing the poor shmuck's face.

"What's so funny?" Lia asked, as she walked up with Cheryl, both with curious expressions on their faces.

"Oh nothing except Emily nearly made some dickhead piss himself this morning," he said still laughing.

Lia and Cheryl both turned questioning and surprised glances toward Emily, who shrugged and walked to her desk.

"Wait, wait, you aren't going anywhere until you explain what he just said," Cheryl stopped her.

"This guy rear-ended me on the way in, and once he saw that I was pregnant and I showed him my badge he got very nervous…and I was a little hostile," she admitted.

Lia tried not to smile, though she was quite amused, and Cheryl tried to give her a stern look, but failed miserably.

"Oh I have good news for you," she said instead.

"What? I'm done talking to cons?" Emily asked sarcastically.

"No, you might actually get to see your husband before the weekend," Cheryl smiled.

"What?" Emily whipped her face toward Cheryl.

"The storm just started clearing, he should be able to get to San Diego tonight, and maybe even get a flight out and be back tomorrow morning," she said, enjoying the excited look that grazed Emily's face.

"Have you heard from him or Tony yet?" Emily asked eagerly.

"No, I figure you'll get a call before I will." Cheryl paused, watching the huge smile appear on Emily's face, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Emily, you really should see the dopey grin on your face right now."

"Six weeks Cheryl, I'm entitled to look as dopey as I want," she insisted, before settling at her desk.

"Yes, I suppose you are."

So, I decided I needed to do one story in between Emily being five weeks pregnant and in labor, just to shrink the gap slightly. And, as I'm sure you could tell, this one is complete fluff, much more cutesy than I usually go for. One more part for this one. Thanks for reading and reviews!