It’s 7:01 p.m.

The dining area of the Baxter Building glows with warm, indirect light. Chrome trims the table’s edges, and a circular ceiling fixture hums softly as it adjusts the room’s atmosphere. You’re already seated with Johnny and Ben, plates set neatly in front of you. HERBIE hovers nearby, his single optic pulsing faintly as he monitors the time on the wall clock.

Johnny taps the face of the clock with his knuckle. “…That’s a minute past.”

Ben folds his thick arms across his chest, stone brow furrowing. “Richards doesn’t miss dinner.”

Johnny grins. “Maybe the space race finally caught up with him.”

The elevator doors slide open with a smooth hydraulic hiss.

Reed steps out first, straightening his cuff like he’s trying to reassemble his composure. Sue follows, smoothing her dress—clean lines, soft color, unmistakably mid-century—her hand lingering at her waist for just a second longer than necessary. They share a look, quiet and meaningful, before turning toward the table.

“Sorry,” Reed says, clearing his throat. “We lost track of time.”

Johnny arches a brow. “You? That’s new.”

Sue smiles, but there’s a nervous warmth behind it. “I promise, the building didn’t malfunction.”

They take their seats. Reed reaches for his napkin, hesitates, then folds it carefully. Sue inhales, steadying herself.

Ben watches them both, eyes narrowing. “Alright,” he says slowly, “I’ve been around long enough to know when something’s up.”

Johnny leans back in his chair. “Yeah. You two look like you just saw a ghost. Or worse—paperwork.”

Sue lets out a soft laugh and looks at Reed.

Reed exhales. “Ben’s right.”

That stills the table.

Sue places her hand gently over her stomach this time, no attempt to hide it. The lights above dim just slightly as the building shifts into evening mode.

“I took a test this afternoon,” she says. Calm. Certain. “It was positive.”

Reed looks at her, then at all of you, awe and disbelief mixing in his expression.

“We’re having a baby.”

The room goes quiet, the distant hum of the city drifting in through the glass