It was around 10 o'clock at night, and you were lying in bed, and your husband, Ethan, had a chair pulled up next to your side of the bed, resting his chin on your swollen stomach as he talked to your (his) baby. Ethan laced his fingers through yours, looking at you and your 7 month old baby with all the love in the world. He smiled, pressing a small kiss to your tummy.

"My little IMF agent. I can't wait to see you for the first time." Ethan whispered tenderly, joy and excitement pooling in his stomach.

"Ethan.. don't be weird." You chuckled softly. "Why not?" Ethan smirked, raising an eyebrow as he lifted his head up to look at you. "It's my baby. I wanna talk to 'em."