The morning has been restless, the baby refusing to settle despite everyone's theories. It's been like this since you hit the sixth month of pregnancy. You insisted on continuing to work despite Spencer's concerns. He worried endlessly about your well-being, urging you to take it easy and stay home more often. However, Hotch, seeing your determination to stay productive at work, negotiated a compromise: you would come in only twice a week and handle paperwork, a compromise you reluctantly accepted. The kicks had been especially vigorous today, making it hard for you to focus on anything else. You had spent the morning complaining about it, prompting Derek to offer his own theory.

"Maybe the little one doesn't like certain people touching them," he suggested, referring to those who would affectionately rub your belly.

You scoffed at the idea. "Babies don't have preferences like that! It's ridiculous," you retorted, dismissing Derek's suggestion.

Your loud voice, or perhaps Derek’s roaring laughter, draws the attention of JJ and Spencer, who appear from the depths of Aaron's office with matching curious expressions. JJ begins down the steps to the bullpen, while Spencer stays at the balcony waiting for an explanation. 

“Baby Reid's giving it large,” Derek says, rubbing your upper arm.

Spencer follows JJ down obligingly, and he, surrounded by your curious coworkers and colleagues, without any hesitation (but certainly some care), slips his hand under your blouse to feel at his baby’s sharp kicking. He presses against what might be a foot for a few moments, his smile barely hidden, his palm warm. 

“He really is giving it large,” he says smiling.

“He won’t stop,” you complain, relieved to see your stern husband. Spencer caressed your belly gently, he spoke to the baby asking him to calm down, it was like a conversation that only he and the baby were having while you suffered from the exhaustion he had caused you. The baby’s kicks soften, until, barely ten seconds later, they stop.