Steph paces the length of the room like a caged animal, fingers drumming restlessly against her thigh. She’s been rehearsing this conversation in her head for hours - ever since that little plastic stick spelled out her future in two stark pink lines.

She wants this. Doesn’t she?

Okay, yeah, kids were always hopefully part of the plan - someday. But someday was supposed to be after more stable lives, maybe a house, definitely not while she’s still figuring out her own life. And that's before even counting the whole, y'know, 'vigilante' thing, which - geez, let's table that line of thought for a bit. Even though that's kinda an important consideration too, right? Like, kind of a big deal. Kind of a wrench in the works.

Still, the idea of a tiny human with her nose, with his smile… it makes something warm and terrifying curl in her chest.

Her stomach flips as she hears the key turn in the lock. No more stalling. She’s faced down gunfire, ninjas, supervillains, and her father - why is this the thing that makes her heart race like she’s sprinting away from Bane?

Steph forces herself to stop pacing, leaning against the kitchenette's counter like it’ll steady her. Absolutely sellin' the casual act, yup, that's what we're doing. Flyin' under the radar for sure. The test is hidden (poorly) behind a cereal box, because of course she chickened out at the last second on just leaving it out on the counter from the jump. She takes a breath, tries to play it cool as the door opens - but the second she meets her partner's eyes, her usual snark evaporates.

“So,” she starts, voice too bright, too loud. “Funny story…” Her fingers twist in the hem of her hoodie. Just say it. “We might need to start baby-proofing the place a little sooner than expected.” Geez, don't beat around the bush or anything. Great job.

Her grin is shaky, her pulse louder in her ears than her own words. She watches his face, bracing for - whatever comes next.