They discussed it over, and over. When the right time would be, how it should be done, why it should be done. To put it simply, Barnaby was being the worry wart he was and planned everything down to the last detail.

Tomoe however, was there to break him away from his methodical planning.

Hero work, was hard work. She knew that. So it was less than surprising that he was sprawled out on the couch fast asleep; glasses pushed up his forehead so that his arm could rest over his eyes. With a sigh and a smile, she kissed his lips, smiling further when he reciprocated in his half wakened state.

"Barnaby… you do remember what today is, right?"

He woke up to the sensation of familiar lips pressing against his, and automatically reciprocated as he returned to full consciousness. As they separated, he groaned softly, dragging both hands down his face to try and wake himself up; it had been a late night of Hero work, and he hadn't done much more than take off his jacket and toss it over the top of the couch before collapsing onto the cushions.

Barnaby looked up at her, blinking blearily as she asked him something. What today was? …What day was it? His sleep-fogged brain seemed to refuse to clear and he shook his head a bit.


"After all of the planning you did, you forgot?" Her smile never faltered, but if he was really that tired then she would let him sleep longer. She knew how much he hated his plans being thrown off track, off schedule, but perhaps he had sincerely forgotten in his daze. "You can sleep longer if you want, we can put it off until next month." She muttered, brushing the side of his face softly with her hand.

The sun had gone down long ago — so putting it off until the coming month wouldn't really be a problem for her; but they couldn't mix her schedule with his work schedule, it was difficult to coordinate things as best as they could. Things were clear for today until he'd gotten an unexpected call into work.

He tilted his face into her touch, a languid smile spreading across his face as he gazed up at her, eyes half-lidded. He reached up to move a few stray strands out of her eyes, fingertips brushing her cheek and down her jawline. The city lights streaming in through the window highlighted her dark hair and made her pale skin almost seem to glow.

Propping himself up on one elbow, glasses still on top of his head, he leaned up and closed the space between them for a long moment before pulling back with another smile.

"No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She smiled back although it held some concern. "I mean… this is a really, really big decision, Barnaby." Carefully, she tipped his glasses back down so that he could see, see that she was truly serious about this decision and that she cared for his opinion — that it'd be okay to back down if he wanted. She combed his hair back with her fingers, kissing his forehead.

"It's okay if you don't want to go through with it. I understand completely."

"I'm sure. It'll probably be difficult or stressful sometimes, but…" He let his hand rest on the gentle curve of her cheek. "…I love you — and that's reason enough."

He kissed her again, the contact lasting longer this time before he pulled away and sat up, leaning back against the rear cushions of the couch.

She moved respectively out of his way, allowing him to sit up. A leg slipped over his lap, before pressing her lips to his again, hands resting on his cheeks; enjoying the contact until she pulled away.

"And I love you too…" She breathed, lips connecting with his once more.

He blushed a little when she was sitting in his lap; this was foiling some of his thought-out plans, but at the moment, he couldn't really bring himself to care very much. One hand on the small of her back and the other buried in her dark hair, he pulled her a bit closer as he deepened the contact.

Nervousness fluttered in the pit of his stomach, but he tried not to let the quiver spread any further, breaking the kiss with a small sigh. He pressed his forehead to hers, half-lidded green eyes locking with her dark brown gaze.

Gazing at him with careful brown eyes, she looped her arms around his neck — never breaking that eye contact. She gave a soft, reassuring smile and gave a quick peck to his lips.

"We'll go as slow as you want." She murmured. It was all up to him, all the decisions — and she didn't mind that.

He knew the decisions were his to make, and that only increased his nervousness. He'd contended with pressure before, but never like this. It had always been the expectations of his employers weighing down on him—now, it was something much more important. His hands started shaking a little as his confidence wavered slightly, and he hid his face in the crook of her neck to try and calm his jittery nerves.

He had her warmth, her presence, and the gentle scent of soap and vanilla with apple blossoms; those alone bolstered his confidence. He pushed a few locks back from her neck so he could kiss his way up to her cheek before moving to her lips again. When he pulled back, he couldn't restrain the persisting shudder in his breath. He knew she'd said they could take as slow as he wanted, but under this sort of unfamiliar pressure and in this sort of new situation, he doubted—albeit regrettably and with a small pang of self-annoyance—that they'd get much of anywhere unless she took some sort of initiative somewhere along the line.

He started to look away, but forced himself to meet her gaze again. Though he tried to school his expression into one of at least some confidence, his eyes told all: shy awkwardness and a sort of mildly confused helplessness tinged with self-depracation seemed to alternate and mix together in brilliant green orbs.

She kept an eye on him, letting his lips wander where they pleased. His jitters didn't go unnoticed, but he still trudged on, working the crook of her neck before coming back to her lips. She happily returned the kiss, enjoying the lingering contact. Although his shaky breath made her brows knit together tightly. Did he want her to make some sort of advance? He turned away, returning to her gaze a moment later; confused and helpless.

"Here, hun…" Cupping his cheek gently, she bent forward, closing the gap between their lips again; allowing her body to rest closer against his.

He sighed into the contact, the nervous tension in his shoulders relaxing a bit as he let his hands tentatively explore her frame.

He was first to wake the following morning, internal clock refusing to be reset to any later time. The light of the sunrise was softened by the translucent curtains that hung over the window in their bedroom. He was comfortably warm despite his lack of clothing, most likely due to the fact that Tomoe was curled up at his side, one leg hooked over his and using his upper arm as a pillow. His hand and forearm tingled from reduced circulation, but he didn't really care that much.

With his free hand, he brushed a few dark strands from her calmly sleeping face and smiled warmly. Despite his almost incurable nervousness, the previous night had been wonderful. It was an indescribable feeling of freedom when he stopped thinking so much and stuck to instinct, and he noted silently that he wouldn't mind doing so every once in a while.

It was strange; there was no heat of an embarrassed flush to make his face feel like it was going to melt, no quiver of nervousness anymore. He only felt an unfamiliar but nonetheless welcome tranquility. If this was what it felt like to do something so intimate with someone you loved, he didn't understand why anyone would ever cheat. He realized that way of thinking was likely naïve to a lot of people, but the fact remained that he couldn't grasp the concept of cheating on the person you love—he severely doubted he ever would.

Softly groaning, Tomoe's eyes slowly opened — still heavy with sleep. She inhaled sharply and stretched, skin rubbing on skin. A groggy smile curved her lips as her hand traced over Barnaby's chest.

"Morning…" Her voice was tired, and there was a slight crack from not using it for the last few hours. She propped up on her elbow, leaning over to kiss him, despite the dull pain that resided in her hips. She could easily tell that he no longer had that nervous air about him — no bright red blush staining his face and make him jittery, even though she found that cute about him. He just seemed… calm.

With her shift in position, his arm compensated by wrapping protectively around her waist, tracing fingers along the curve of her hip; her own hand coming to brush away hair that still stuck to his forehead.

He let out a soft chuckle as she stretched, replying after she kissed him.


He continued to brush his fingertips along the smooth curve of her hip, concern furrowing his brow slightly. He knew it was probably a stupid question to ask, but he wanted to ask it anyway.

"Are…you all right?"

It hadn't been rough—far from it—but his worrisome side was starting to resurface.

"Hmm? No, I'm fine." She kissed the end of his nose, "You were great anyways…" She purred, her smile turning more sly.

She rolled away from him, slipping her nude form out from under the light blanket; trying to hide the limp as she guided herself to the bathroom. When she closed the door and was by herself, she leaned against the wall, releasing a soft, shaky breath as moments from just hours previous replayed through her mind and made her shudder. Shaking her head, she just opted to wash her face off — spotting hickies and bite marks littering her body when her eyes caught her own reflection in the vanity mirror.

She inspected each over, some making her wonder how and when they'd gotten there because she doesn't even remember him caressing her there. For some reason it just made her smile; he'd really come out of his shell.

Yup. That night was blissfully amazing.

She tied her hair up easily, standing at the doorway from the washroom.

"Are you alright though?" If everything went according to his plans… then soon they'd find out if they were finally going to be parents.

He felt the familiar blush start to creep onto his face at her compliment, sitting up as she disappeared into the bathroom for a minute or two. She appeared again, hair tied up and still without clothes, as she asked him something. It took a moment for him to snap out of wondering if he'd messed up at any point before he answered.

"Hm? Oh… yeah, I'm fine." His brow furrowed a little again. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He knew the implications; pretty soon he could be discovering that he was going to be a father—but the thought didn't make him as nervous as he expected. Instead, he welcomed the notion, even looked forward to it. For a while, he'd been wanting to have some semblance of a normal home life, and now, he had a chance at realizing that wish. He silently promised himself that no matter what, he'd be there for their children as much as he could.

"Just wondering, Bunny." She offered, playing with the hair that hung down against her neck and back. Joining him at his side, she smoothed her thumb over his cheek, admiring tired jade hues. "Now we wait." She murmured softly. On the outside, she was calm and easygoing but on the inside she was a flurry of emotions varying from excitement to nervousness and anxiety. This would be one of the biggest decisions in their lives since their marriage.

This was a new path, however. One they had decided on together; Barnaby showing more excitement than she had originally expected. She thought now about the stress that would be put on her body, physically and mentally — how she'd be quick to snap and brood, and this made her frown.

"Bunny… if I do end up pregnant… please know that anything I do or say, I don't mean it — even if I say I mean it, I don't." She murmured, giving him a sad, unsure gaze, lips pursed with a frown.