long time no see friends!! hope you're all enjoying this book so far. school started so i'm definitely a lot busier now but i have a lot of chapters in progress for this book that just need to be finished and then published. but for now, enjoy! vote and comment please!!!!!!!!!!!!

warnings: pregnancy, crying, honestly it's mostly fluff

word count: 2.7k

SPENCER

i wanted kids for as long as i could remember. i've always loved kids and i always saw myself meeting the right person, settling down, and having a family. but time went on and i never met the right person. i thought my plan was out of reach.

but then i met my wife. i saw this beautiful brunette at the other side of a bookshelf and knew i had to have her. she smiled at me and then laughed when i did a magic trick. she asked me out before i got the chance to ask her. we went to coffee, then to a museum, then to dinner, more coffee, more museums, and the rest is history. from the moment i saw her, i didn't let her go.

she's the perfect woman. she loves me and that's really all i can ask for. she's kind and compassionate, insanely smart and witty, a good listener who always offers good advice, and always seems to know exactly what i need. i couldn't have asked for anyone better.

after getting spontaneously married on a trip to las vegas, the team insisted that we have a proper wedding. she went dress shopping with emily, penelope, jj, and tara. i got my tux with rossi, morgan, luke, and matt and we had a lovely little ceremony in rossi's backyard.

suddenly, my dream was in reach again. i had the perfect woman and the perfect marriage and i was working less in the field, spending more time as a professor than shooting unsubs in random states. it became the perfect time to breach the subject i've been wondering about and yearning for my whole life. but she beats me to the punch.

she starts getting nauseous on pizza nights. she doesn't let me touch her breasts in the shower or during sex because they hurt too much. we have to find a bathroom every five minutes no matter where we are. then she starts to resent the smell of my coffee in the morning and i have to start going out for my cup instead of brewing it at home. then the nausea set in all the time, and then the morning sickness started. we both claimed she was feeling under the weather, but when the sickness never went away, i immediately went to the store to buy a test.

seven different brands of test (and eventually an ultrasound) confirmed to us that we would have a baby soon. we sobbed in the doctors office and then cried even more at home. and then the next day, we called a real estate agent and started searching for a house. our apartment definitely wouldn't be big enough or safe enough for a baby.

we moved within the month, unpacked, baby-proofed, and she went on maternity leave. everything fell into place.

the months have gone on and my wife's stomach has grown and our house has gotten much cleaner and much safer. i come home every day during her nap time and i usually either coax her upstairs into bed or cover her in a blanket on the couch. so when i come home after work to a silent house, i'm not surprised. the living room is empty so i wander upstairs, finding the bedroom door ajar. she's laying in bed with the blanket kicked onto the floor, face scrunched up in some level of discomfort.

i, as silent as i possibly can be, kick off my shoes and start to undress from my stuffy professor outfit. i keep my eyes on her as i put on pajamas, not caring that it's only dinner time and not nearly time to go bed. thankfully, i manage to get changed without waking her, so i plan to head downstairs to get started on dinner.

before i can get down the stairs, though, i walk past the nursery. when i left this morning, almost everything was either in boxes or bags. now a majority of those things are moved and when i open the dresser drawers, i find them filled with diapers and clothes and shoes and cleaning products.

i figured this would happen soon. the pregnancy is almost coming to an end and the need to nest hadn't set in yet. i was feeling it just a little but mother's feel much more than fathers. i just figured that she was too tired to act on those nesting impulses. clearly, she isn't ignoring them anymore.

i go downstairs and cook dinner. it's always hard to tell if she will be okay with what i make, as in if the smells or the textures bother her. but just as i'm finishing up and putting dinner onto plates, i hear a bell. a while ago, when her mobility started to get effected by the baby bump, we arranged to put bells in most rooms so that if she needed me, she would ring it and i'd come running.

"coming!" i call, hastily shutting off the stove and rushing upstairs.

she tosses the bell down on the bed when she sees me, reaching her hands straight up. "help, please. i'm a beached whale." i hold in my laugh and grab onto her hands, gently tugging her up to a sitting position. she sighs as she gets upright, smiling up at me. "thank you, honey. and hi."

"you're very welcome and hi," i peck her lips and she beams at the contact, allowing me to slide my hands across her belly. "how's the little bean today? and how's mama?"

"little bean is," she sighs heavily and drops her head forward onto my chest, "very active today. mama is feeling a little tired. hence the nap."

"well, i made dinner so we should go eat, right? up?" i get back to my feet and help her stand, keeping my hand on her waist as we waddle down the stairs. i'd never forgive myself if she fell and got hurt when i could have prevented it.

we sit down at the dinner table and she doesn't seem to have any problems with dinner just yet so we eat quietly for a while. but as i look around the house to fill the silence, i find more interesting things. there isn't a single thing out of place. the mirrors don't have any streaks or finger prints, everything is dusted, the floors have been mopped, the marble counters have been polished. everything is perfectly in place.

"so," i say softly, taking a sip of water, "i noticed you did some cleaning today."

she hums softly and shovels a forkful of pasta in her mouth, glancing around the house. "yeah. i cleaned a lot before my nap. just had the energy to today."

"well that's good but," i put my hand over hers to make sure i have her attention, "make sure you're not overworking yourself. you're too far along to be doing hard work and bending down too often and going up and down the stairs too much. cleaning is good but naps are better."

"i know. i'm being careful," she smiles softly at me, squeezing my hand reassuringly. "but i'm still really tired so could we maybe relax tonight. how was your day at work?"

"yes, we can absolutely relax tonight. we could watch that new documentary! we could even lay in bed and watch it. and my day was okay. pretty quiet because they had a test today so i spent most of the day at my desk, thinking about you."

"aww," she coos, pinching my cheek, "you're the cutest. i was thinking about you all day too. thinking about you and the baby and names for the baby and the baby's room and what the first outfit the baby will wear is gonna be."

yeah. she's absolutely nesting.

we watch the documentary in bed, or more, i watch it and she falls asleep on my shoulder ten minutes in.

i don't ever wake her up in the morning anymore. if there's a miracle and she got comfortable enough to sleep, there's no chance i would disrupt that bliss. so i just get dressed in the dark, lay a kiss on her cheek, and go to work. again, i spend my whole day thinking about her. i wonder what she's cleaning today or what part of the nursery will be moved to a different spot or what our baby will even look like. the hours and the minutes drag on painfully and i'm counting the seconds until i can go home. i even let my last class out early so i can beat rush hour.

but the sight that is waiting for me at home is not the norm. my wife isn't peacefully sleeping in bed or on the couch with her arm cradling her bump and a soft smile on her face. she's hunched over on the couch, body shaking as she sobs.

i instantly drop my bag and rush over, dropping to my knees at her feet. "bubs, what's wrong? what's happening? did something happen with the baby? are you in pain? should i call the doctor?"

"i ca—" she tries to speak through her tears, using one hand to be guest gesture behind her while the other covers her face, "i can't— i co—"

"take a deep breath for me, sweetheart," i lay my hands on her arms, feeling her chest rise and fall as she takes two deep breaths. "there we go, my love. keep breathing. everything's gonna be okay."

she hiccups, her body jolting as it racks through her. "i couldn't—" she sniffles, "i couldn't build the crib."

my eyebrows shoot right up. "you couldn't build the crib?" that's what this is about?

"it's too heavy and i can't move it across the nursery and then i couldn't get the tape off the box and then i cut my hand a little with the scissor and i just—" another fat tear falls down her cheek, "i couldn't do it, spence. i really needed to build the crib and i couldn't! the baby needs somewhere to sleep!"

"okay, hey," i take her face in my hands and hold her delicately, wiping the tears from her pink cheeks, "the baby is going to be just fine and will absolutely have somewhere safe to sleep."

"but i couldn't do it!"

"remember at the start of the pregnancy," i say softly, keeping my voice calm and quiet for her, "when we started treading all those baby books? remember that?"

she sniffles heavily and drags her knuckle across her cheeks, wiping old tears that are quickly replaced with fresh ones. "mhm."

"we talked about this thing called nesting, where mothers feel an instinct to prepare for the arrival of their baby. new moms are gonna wanna clean and organize and re-organize. and then clean some more. and organize again."

her lips form a pretty pout, eyes sparkling with tears and cheeks still wet. "that's what this is? just nesting?"

"you just want everything to be perfect for the baby, and that's understandable," i move onto the couch and tug her into my arms, laying her legs over my lap and tucking her head in the crook of my neck. "i remember when jj started nesting when she was pregnant with henry. i went over to visit her after work and she spent the entire time i was there cleaning the nursery. will told me it was the third time she had cleaned it that day. then when she came to visit the office the next day, she cleaned my desk while i was talking to penelope and cleaned it again when i went to talk to hotch. so it's normal, my love."

"i just can't do it," she sniffles, nose nudging my neck softly and adorably. "the crib is too heavy."

"i can help you. i'm home now, right? and it's friday. so why don't i go get you some water and i'll make some dinner? and after we've had something to eat, we can go build that crib. does that sound good?"

she sniffles again, nodding like a weepy child. "okay, yeah."

"alright, come on, baby," i rise from the couch and grab onto her hands, tugging her up just like i do on most mornings. i help her into the kitchen and start on dinner, all while she tries to calm down and drinks a big glass of water. i talk softly about my day at work and some funny stories with students, and she adds in little hums and even a few laughs when appropriate. we sit at the table to eat our dinner and i'd like to think that she has leveled out, but i can hear her foot tapping and i see her fingers drumming a song against the granite counter. she's desperate to get up and build the crib, and i can't imagine what it must be like to have to fight an urge like that. maternal urges are some of the strongest.

once our plates have been cleaned and i've double checked that she doesn't want a third serving, i load the plates in the dishwasher. and when i turn to get her, she's already standing at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for my assistance. i bound over and kiss her cheek, helping her up the stairs and into the nursery.

it's painted a pretty sage green color with accents of blue and purple. the crib— still in the cardboard box it arrived in— is in the corner of the room next to the changing table. on the other side of the room is a shelf of toys and books but mostly books, and beside that shelf is a dresser of clothes and shoes. everything a baby could need, except for a place to sleep.

i usher my love into the rocking chair and cover her in a blanket, kissing her forehead sweetly. "you relax here, okay? if you need anything then let me know but i'm gonna build the crib now."

she grabs onto my hand to keep me from moving away too fast. "thank you for being so understanding and helpful and compassionate and—"

"that's my job as husband and future dad, to be all of those things and more to you and our little bean."

"not future dad. you're already a dad," she slides her hands over her protruding tummy and taps gently against the sides of her bellybutton, something we've discovered soothes her pain and sometimes even gets the baby to kick.

and so i start the daunting task of building the crib. it would seem logical that a man of my caliber with the amount of knowledge in my brain would be able to easily build something like a crib with instructions in multiple languages i know. but my love falls asleep in the rocking chair as i struggle for nearly two hours with the screws and nuts and bolts and allen keys and wood and metal. after a call to morgan, a call to matt, and a second call to morgan, a shiny white crib stands in the corner of the room with a blanket that my mom knitted and a stuffed animal penelope bought to spoil the baby. i step back to admire my work, hands on my hips and sweat dripping down my forehead, smiling proudly.

"you did it!" my wife sleepily chirps.

"i thought you were asleep," she comes to my side and lays her head on my shoulder, looking down at the crib. "you like it?"

"i love it," she beams. "thank you, my little

handy man." i've never gotten used to her compliments and i don't think i ever will. she smiles when my cheeks turn bright pink. "our baby will be laying in there in no time."

"it barely feels real," my voice trails off as i stare at the empty crib, imagining my newborn child sleeping there, imagining my love rocking in the chair, imagining her singing them to sleep. my smile grows at the beautiful thoughts as she lifts her head from my shoulder.

"well, um," her voice instantly sounds different, "i think it's gonna feel real quite soon."

i whip my head to the side and find her eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "what do you mean?"

"my water just broke."