The babysitter

Make It Official

Two weeks had passed since Lucy's unexpected hospital visit, and she was finally feeling more like herself. The morning sickness was still there—Dr. Martinez had warned them it might get worse before it got better—but at least now she knew what was causing it. The walking boot was a constant reminder to take things easier, though convincing her to actually rest was still an uphill battle for Tim.

They'd managed to keep the pregnancy news to themselves so far, sharing it only with Angela, who had been sworn to secrecy and was practically vibrating with excitement every time she saw them. Emma and Evan knew Mommy had been sick and that she had to wear the special boot, but they were still too young to understand the bigger picture.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Tim asked as they walked into the station that morning, his hand hovering protectively near Lucy's elbow despite her repeated assurances that she was fine.

"Tim, I'm pregnant, not made of glass," Lucy said, though she was smiling as she adjusted the walking boot. "Besides, we can't keep it a secret much longer. Angela's going to explode if she has to keep pretending she doesn't know."

"I heard that," Angela called from across the bullpen, not looking up from her desk. "And you're absolutely right. I've been practicing my surprised face in the mirror."

"Your surprised face needs work," Nyla commented dryly from the adjacent desk. "You look like you're having a stroke."

Tim shook his head as they made their way to the break room. Roll call wasn't for another twenty minutes, but Lucy wanted to grab some crackers—her new best friend for managing the morning queasiness.

"So what's the plan?" Tim asked, leaning against the counter as Lucy rummaged through the cabinet. "Just announce it during roll call?"

"I was thinking we could wait until Grey asks if anyone has anything to add," Lucy said, finding the sleeve of saltines she'd stashed there earlier. "Keep it simple."

"Simple," Tim repeated. "Right. Because nothing about this job is ever simple."

Lucy was about to respond when John Nolan appeared in the doorway, looking unusually frazzled even for him.

"Oh, hey guys," he said, making a beeline for the coffee machine. "Lucy, how's the ankle?"

"Better, thanks," Lucy said, not mentioning that the ankle was the least of her concerns these days. "You okay, John? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Worse," John said, pouring coffee with shaking hands. "I just got off the phone with Bailey. She's decided we need to baby-proof the house."

Tim and Lucy exchanged glances. "Baby-proof?" Tim asked carefully.

"For when we have kids over," John explained, adding way too much sugar to his coffee. "Which apparently happens more often than I realized. Did you know there are locks for everything? Cabinet locks, drawer locks, toilet locks—who knew toilets needed locks?"

"Wait until you learn about outlet covers," Lucy said with barely contained amusement. "Those little plastic things will become your nemesis."

"Don't forget corner guards," Tim added helpfully. "Every piece of furniture becomes a potential weapon."

John's eyes widened. "Corner guards?"

"Oh, and you'll need to move everything breakable above a certain height," Lucy continued, getting into the spirit of it. "Actually, just assume that if it exists, a child will find a way to destroy it."

"You're not helping," John said, but he was smiling now. "Bailey's already got a list three pages long."

"Kids aren't that bad," Tim said, though his tone suggested he was remembering some specific incidents. "Emma only broke two lamps last month."