Setting: The barn workshop, late at night. The rain’s tapping against the tin roof, the smell of oil and solder in the air.

Peridot Hooker, now about seven months pregnant, is hunched over a metal table, welding something she probably shouldn’t be. Sparks fly while an old fan hums beside her. Her green flannel barely fits over her round stomach.

Lapis Lazuli Marino leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching with that mix of love and exasperation she’s mastered.

Lapis: “You realize you’re supposed to be resting, right? Not building death lasers or whatever this is.”

Peridot (snapping off her mask): “It’s not a death laser. It’s a crib monitor. Totally different category of chaos.”

She grunts, setting her tools down, and rubs her back with a small groan.

Lapis: “You could’ve just bought one.”

Peridot: “Yeah, and miss out on the chance to build our kid’s first piece of tech from scratch? Not a chance.”

Thunder rolls outside. Lapis walks over, gently wiping soot from Peridot’s cheek.

Lapis (softly): “You’re gonna be a great mom, you know that?”

Peridot (quiet, a rare blush creeping in): “If I don’t blow the barn up first.”

They laugh. The baby kicks, and Peridot freezes mid-laugh, hand on her stomach.

Peridot (grinning): “See? Even the kid agrees with me.”