"I know," he grumbles playfully. "Ya think I woulda learned after Lucy. I swear, Montana, I'm not lettin' ya set foot in this lab after yer leave starts. I'm gonna have ta see if I can take all my breaktime at once an' just take an hour or two ta run home an' have lunch with ya." He glances at her, hiding a smile. "An' a quickie."
Crying at the birth of your child is completely manly, and he shrugs. "Dunno, don't care. I'm a total softie when it comes ta my family. An' I know ya didn't wanna with Lucy or Joey, but I wanna get a picture'a us with yer belly. Just you an' me an' yer bare belly. I wanna. An' I've been thinkin', I wanna get another tattoo, somethin' fer all'a us. I dunno about names, but..." He shrugs. "Just somethin'."
"I love playin' good cop bad cop with ya when we're home," he presses the elevator button. "Especially when I get ta play good cop an' Daddy gets ta save the day. Gotta keep up my softie reputation," he teases as the elevator dings and he pulls her in. Empty. Good. He waits until the doors close. It's a long ride from the 35th floor to the 1st. "So, wanna start this family night a little early?" he murmurs, sliding his hand into her shirt and over her belly. "Unless someone calls the elevator, we got... coupla minutes alone. An' since shift change hasn't actually hit yet fer everyone else... I think that's a pretty good bet."
Lindsay shook her head at him, "You and I both know that you can't stop me from coming here. And what would you rather have happen? Me go into labor here where there are a lot of people who can drive me, or would you rather me be alone at home and have to get there on my own or wait for you to get home before I can go to the hospital." And that the quickie comment she shook her head, "You get worse the bigger I get, I tell you."
"Danny," Lindsay grumbled at that, shaking her head, "You know I don't want that. as beautiful as you think I am like this, I really don't want proof of my stretch marks." Plus, he'd probably put it somewhere everyone could see, she didn't want that either. "Tattoo, really. Got anything in mind?"
"I'd rather not have to, I play cop all day at work, it'd be nice just to play mom or wife. Maybe we could all play family?" As he moved closer and pushed his hands under her top and over her stomach, Lindsay shook her head, "Danny, you're supposed to be responsible now, second in command. So behave." She laughed as she put her hands over his, laughing as she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, "We need to get home Danny, this'll have to wait until later."
"I know," he shrugs, "But I can hope, right? An' yanno when it gets closer ta yer due date that I'll offer ta do all'a Stella's paperwork so I can leave an' get ya if I gotta. I promise I'll pick up, baby. I'll be there fer ya when ya need me. I just- I just want ya ta be comfortable, be at home before ya start rushin'. Yanno? But," he reconsiders, "If yer here, that means Lucy an' Joey'll probably be with my mom, so that takes care'a our kiddo problem 'cuz yer labors are usually pretty long." He presses a quick kiss to her forehead. "Hey, it's not my fault I got the sexiest pregnant wife in the world. An' that Viagra's the last thing I'm gonna need when I get older. Three kids in five years, I think I'm doin' pretty good."
"But ya can't see any'a yer stretch marks now," he protests. "An' yer beautiful. So beautiful that I wanna christen my new office sometime." A picture of the two of them and her pregnant belly, their third child, is precisely what he needs in his office. "It's not like I'm askin' ya ta pose naked fer me, yanno?" Shrugging at the question of his tattoo, he's honestly not sure. "Dunno. Wanna help me pick it out?"
His hands cup her belly, smoothing over her skin gently and resisting the urge to slide under her bra or into her pants. "I am bein' responsible. I'm touchin' my wife's belly. My hands aren't goin' anywhere else," he retorts, pressing his lips to hers. "But when we get home, I'm gonna get the kids busy with somethin', an' then I'm gonna be in ya quick, baby... I miss that, I miss doin' it so much the way we used ta do, remember? Mornin's when we wouldn't even have ta get outta bed. Now we got two kids crawlin' in with us an' one bambino who's got his mornin's an' his nights switched."
Crying at the birth of your child is completely manly, and he shrugs. "Dunno, don't care. I'm a total softie when it comes ta my family. An' I know ya didn't wanna with Lucy or Joey, but I wanna get a picture'a us with yer belly. Just you an' me an' yer bare belly. I wanna. An' I've been thinkin', I wanna get another tattoo, somethin' fer all'a us. I dunno about names, but..." He shrugs. "Just somethin'."
"I love playin' good cop bad cop with ya when we're home," he presses the elevator button. "Especially when I get ta play good cop an' Daddy gets ta save the day. Gotta keep up my softie reputation," he teases as the elevator dings and he pulls her in. Empty. Good. He waits until the doors close. It's a long ride from the 35th floor to the 1st. "So, wanna start this family night a little early?" he murmurs, sliding his hand into her shirt and over her belly. "Unless someone calls the elevator, we got... coupla minutes alone. An' since shift change hasn't actually hit yet fer everyone else... I think that's a pretty good bet."
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"Danny," Lindsay grumbled at that, shaking her head, "You know I don't want that. as beautiful as you think I am like this, I really don't want proof of my stretch marks." Plus, he'd probably put it somewhere everyone could see, she didn't want that either. "Tattoo, really. Got anything in mind?"
"I'd rather not have to, I play cop all day at work, it'd be nice just to play mom or wife. Maybe we could all play family?" As he moved closer and pushed his hands under her top and over her stomach, Lindsay shook her head, "Danny, you're supposed to be responsible now, second in command. So behave." She laughed as she put her hands over his, laughing as she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, "We need to get home Danny, this'll have to wait until later."
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"But ya can't see any'a yer stretch marks now," he protests. "An' yer beautiful. So beautiful that I wanna christen my new office sometime." A picture of the two of them and her pregnant belly, their third child, is precisely what he needs in his office. "It's not like I'm askin' ya ta pose naked fer me, yanno?" Shrugging at the question of his tattoo, he's honestly not sure. "Dunno. Wanna help me pick it out?"
His hands cup her belly, smoothing over her skin gently and resisting the urge to slide under her bra or into her pants. "I am bein' responsible. I'm touchin' my wife's belly. My hands aren't goin' anywhere else," he retorts, pressing his lips to hers. "But when we get home, I'm gonna get the kids busy with somethin', an' then I'm gonna be in ya quick, baby... I miss that, I miss doin' it so much the way we used ta do, remember? Mornin's when we wouldn't even have ta get outta bed. Now we got two kids crawlin' in with us an' one bambino who's got his mornin's an' his nights switched."
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