Disclaimer: I do not own Private Practice or the characters within, they are creations of Shonda Rhimes and I am simply borrowing them for my own entertainment.

AN: Although I highly doubt this is going to happen in the show, it feels like the natural next step for our happy couple. Thank you Mediatorsk for betaing!

AN2: I live for reviews, so whether you loved it or hated it, I want to know!

It's a dark and quiet house that he comes home to. Normally Pete would expect to find Violet in the living room, reading a book or watching TV. Depending on the day he'd expect to find Cooper camped out on the couch with her. But as they both kissed their son goodbye earlier in the evening and briefed the sitter on their whereabouts and how to get in touch, Pete also let his wife know he probably wouldn't be home from his poker night until late.

He locks the door behind him, drops his keys on the dining table and heads upstairs. He makes a small detour to Lucas' room to find the boy sleeping peacefully in his crib. Knowing what some of his coworkers are struggling with at the moment, he's beyond grateful for the child sleeping across the hallway from him, and for the woman he wakes up with every morning.

Although he never let Violet know, part of him worried their marriage would somehow become a repeat of his first. But he's slowly learning that marriage can be good. They're not a perfect couple by any means. They butt heads and get mad, but it's nothing like what went down between him and Anna. Violet's not cold or mean, she's the complete opposite. She cares, sometimes a bit too much. Even when she does things Pete doesn't like, he knows deep down, that it all stems from love. It may drive him crazy and he might refuse to see it at first, but eventually he always realizes she means well.

He finds her nose deep in a Jane Austin novel when he enters the bedroom. Looking up, she smiles as she closes the book and puts it on the nightstand. "Hey, perfect timing, I was just about to hit the lights."

Stepping out of his pants, Pete leans over and kisses his wife. Violet reaches up, her soft hands caressing his cheeks.

"How was your night?" he asks, pulling his shirt over his head.

"It was good." She watches him as he finishes getting ready for bed. "How about you? Did you win big?"

Pete shakes his head as he climbs into the bed with her. "Actually, Amelia cleaned us all out. You'd never think it, but that girl's got one hell of a poker face."

Violet chuckles. "So that's where she ended up..," seeing Pete's arched brows, she elaborates, "Naomi brought Olivia, and I think the incessant cooing and baby talk became a bit too much for our young neuro surgeon..."

Pete chuckles, "That explains her meltdown..." This time it's Violet's turn to arch her brows at him. "She started banging her head on the table while we were talking about babies."

Snuggling up to her husband, Violet rests her head on his chest. "Seems like the subject of the day..," she murmurs, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. "You should've seen the way we were passing that baby between us, like it was... good drugs. And thing is, I never saw myself as that woman... most of my life I wasn't that woman..."

Pete chuckles.

"I blame you, you know," she continues. "You and Lucas. I used to be Amelia. And now... I hold other people's babies and I coo. I don't even like baby talk, yet I can't seem to stop myself from doing it. For God's sake, I nicknamed my own son 'Booboo'. I'm Naomi... Before you know it I'll be switching to child psychology or something..."

A smile slowly creeps across Pete's lips and he takes in the lingering scent of her shampoo, gently kissing the top of her head. "You ever think about it?"

"About what?" she asks, mid-yawn.

"Having another kid?"

Minutes of silence pass and Pete begins to wonder if that means she's fallen asleep. Then he hears her voice, "Are you actually suggesting...?"

"No," he says quickly, maybe a bit too quickly. "...well... I don't know... maybe..."

More pensive silence fills the room. "We should probably talk about it at some point," Pete points out.

He senses the shift in her breathing and his hand seeks out hers under the covers. He feels her giving him a grateful squeeze.

"I don't know, Pete," she sighs, "I mean, I'd be l'd be lying if I say I don't long to experience all the things I missed out on with Lucas..."

"But?" he coaxes.

She lifts her head from his chest and meets his gaze, taking a deep breath as she struggles to find the right words. She tries to smile, but winds up playing tug of war with the corners of her mouth.

"Hey," he whispers, reaching out and tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear. "It's okay, don't worry about it... If you don't want... You and Lucas, that's all I need..."

She shakes her head in frustration, "It's not that," she sighs. "Lucas is the best thing that ever happened to me. Another child would be... icing on the cake..."

"But?" he repeats.

Violet sighs, "But," she acknowledges, "I don't know if I'm ready to be pregnant again... I mean, I'm past everything that Katie did to me, I regained my sanity, my happiness... I'm back in control of my own life... But with pregnancy, the hormones are..."

"...insane," he finishes, remembering something she once said.

"Exactly," she nods, "You could be the most level headed person in the world, but when those hormones are raging, you wind up losing sense of who you are. It's like you're reduced to this irrational, at times hysterical creature. And I don't know if I can lose that control again, at least not yet."

She cranes her neck, softly kissing his ceek, before once again resting her head on his chest. "I know we're not spring chickens and that time is somehow of the essence, but I'm going to need at least a little bit of time."

"Okay," he says, kissing her temple. He means what he said. Although he's beginning to realize he wants that second child more than he originally thought, if it comes down to it, he's perfectly capable of staying happy with what he has. He'll give her time, and hopefully, somewhere down the line, before nature decides to close that door for good, she will be ready.

He drifts off, but somewhere in the distance he can hear her muffled voice speaking three words. Three words, saved, not for big occasions, but for the smaller, more significant moments in their relationship. He's too far gone to voice a response. As sleep conquers his brain, all he can do is think; I love you, too.