In The Clear | ✓

17 | what to expect when you're expecting

Hollywood press came and went. Month nine of pregnancy came and went. Jensen's first night back in her own bed came and went. Weeks came and went. Rocky's birthday passed. Then they were past her due date by a couple days. Which made Jensen grumpier by the hour.

            "God, I didn't realize there was this much during the party," Miles said.

            "I didn't realize I'd still have a baby in me at this point in the month but here we are."

            "Honest to God, Miles," Dayna said, sitting on the arm of the couch, "if you don't go upstairs and sex that baby out of her, I'll do it myself."

            "I'm not going to—" Miles' arms dropped at his sides, a garbage bag in his hand. "And you're not going to either."

            "You can carry them in your stomach for the rest of their time inside a body which should have not been longer than two days ago," Jensen said. "Honestly."

            "I'm not sure that's going to work with my specific set of—"

            "Where's the closest Indian restaurant?" Dayna asked, interrupting Miles. "I don't want to deal with this anymore."

            "Try something with jerk," Liberty said as she walked into the room, arms full of paper cups. She dropped them into the garbage bag Miles held. "It's spicier."

            "We're not spicing our kid out of the womb, guys," Miles said. He looked at Jensen, who raised an eyebrow. "Are we?"

            Jensen crossed her arms. "Do you want plastic on our furniture for another day?"

            A couple days before Rocky's party, Miles and Jensen had covered their sitting room in plastic in preparation for her due date. There was a yoga ball in the room, and they'd made sure that everything had been sanitized that could have been sanitized. Miles had a hospital go-bag by their front door in case anything went poorly. Jensen had lots of room to walk around, Miles had already stocked a bookshelf with too many snacks and bottles of water.

            "I'm ordering jerk... potatoes," Dayna said. "Anyone want anything?"

            "I—no," Miles said, "Wait, stop. Dayna."

            "I'm not not calling unless baby mama tells me not to."

            "There were too many not's in that sentence," Liberty said.

            "Were not."

            Jensen put her hands on the small of her back and did her best to stretch. "We don't need jerk." She looked down for a moment, then back up at Dayna. "Unless we don't have a baby by tomorrow."

            "Rhodes, it'll happen soon."

            "When you have the uterus," Jensen said, "you can have the opinion."

            "Don't quote Friends at me just because you're annoyed."

            "Annoyed is putting it lightly," Jensen said. "For the record."

            Miles drew in a deep breath. "Thank you for letting me know."

            Jensen tore down a happy birthday decoration from the wall. "You're welcome."

            "Miles," Dayna started.

            "No."

            "Go upstairs—"