In this I mention the names of former First Ladies (that's the title of the President's wife). I apologize if it's confusing to those of you who don't know them.

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A spring breeze flirted around Donovan as he headed back to the apartment. Weak sunlight fell over the edge of buildings, waterfalls of white light. Spring was making an entrance into the world through the blush of flowers growing on trees.

As Donovan pushed through the front doors into the lobby, his phone rang. Seeing who it was, he moved off to a secluded corner and set down the grocery bag and answered.

"Hi, Commander," he said.

"Donovan, how is it going?"

The bypass of any form of greeting seemed to always be his father's way as if he were aware of the number of breathes a simple 'how are you doing?' took up.

Rubbing his eyes, Donovan leaned back against the wall. Wrung ragged from broken sleep, false alarms, and emotionally taxing days, he answered more truthfully than he would on a normal day.

"At the end of this there will either be a baby, or I will have killed Carter or she will have killed me."

"Donovan." The sharp rebuke of his father's voice made Donovan stand straight. "Your wife is carrying your daughter, you will have the patience of a thousand men."

"Yes, sir."

On the other end, his father let out a breath. "I know how challenging something like this can be." His voice was still gruff but there was a note of sympathy in it. "You must remember that a life is relying on her and she is relying on you. You can not carry this burden for her, but you can carry her through this."

More than simply a reminder, the words felt like an order, one that Donovan grabbed on to. The Marine in him found safety in orders, it gave direction to life, brought peace in the midst chaos.

"Understood, sir."

"Let us know if there are any developments."

"Will do."

Donovan hung up, the weariness that had been dragging on him dulling. He climbed into the elevator, mentally arming himself. The doors were about to slide shut when someone called out to halt them. Donovan stuck a hand through and Link staggered inside. Exhausted, he slumped against the wall. There were rings under his eyes and he was in a state of complete disarray.

"How are you doing?" Donovan asked.

Link laughed weakly, without opening his eyes. "I haven't slept in a month, Maddy is a saint and Harrison has a set of lungs on him that you would not believe." He lifted his head, smiling. A smile that held a look of pure pride and happiness. "But he's healthy and we're surviving."

Donovan clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I'm happy for you."

Link nodded, the smile morphing into concern. "How's Carter holding up?"

Donovan gripped the paper bag, making it crinkle. "Four days past her due date and well...Let's just say she's ready for the baby to be here."

The elevator stopped and the doors parted.

"Let's us know if you need anything," Link said.

"Thanks."

The two split ways, heading into their apartments. When Donovan walked inside, it was to a soft thump-thump of Carter pacing in their bedroom.

"Carter, I'm back," he said, unloaded the groceries.

Carter appeared in the doorway to the living room. Though past her due date, her belly only looked like she was five months pregnant.

"Donovan, I can't see my feet!"

Donovan crossed over to her and cupped her face. She hadn't been able to see her feet for the last month, but that didn't stop her from still announcing this.

"Well, they are still there in case you were worried," he said.

Carter palmed her eyes, the gesture heavy with fatigue and irritation.

"Stop, you're being patronizing and it's infuriating."

Donovan took a step back, knowing space was always a good option.

"I can't take this," she said. "I have to pee every hour, I'm about to burst and I want to hit something."

There was a slope to her shoulders that spoke of not enough sleep and a frantic energy that said she was losing part of herself. All of Donovan's selfish aggravations vanished.

"Okay then," he said. "Hit me."

Carter jerked her head up. A slight curl to her lips told him she was thinking back on the day when he had first said that to her. Donovan collected a pair of boxing gloves and protection mitts. Though she didn't need assistance, he still helped her put on the gloves.

"Okay," he said, smacking the two mitts together.

Rolling her shoulders, Carter raised her fists. She hit one and then the other. The force was less than normal, but the relief that came into her face was more than Donovan could have asked for. The longer she went, the surer her movements became until she was sweating and Donovan was sure his hands had bruises.

Worn out, Carter dropped her arms and leaned her head against Donovan's chest.

"Why is she not coming?" Carter asked.

Tossing aside the mitts, Donovan kissed her head and rubbed her back.

"It's cause she knows that I will be her favorite and is letting you have a couple more days with her."

Carter let out a weak laugh, but it didn't last. Donovan rested his chin on her head, holding her.

"How can we do this?" she whispered.

"How can we do what?"

She lifted her head, her brow wrinkled with worry. "How can we bring a kid into this world when we know how dark it is?"

"Because she will make it brighter." He held onto her shoulders, squeezing them affectionately. "And we will protect her from the worst of it and give her the strength and tools to deal with the things that we can't."

Carter sighed as Donovan tucked her into his arms.

"It will be okay."

She held onto him, her face buried in the crook of his neck. It was then the full weight of what his father said hit him, she relied on him. Carter leaned into him with a quiet certainty of knowing he was strong enough. It was a burden he willingly accepted.

He kissed the side of her head. "I got you ice cream and pickles."

"I love you."

He laughed and went to retrieve the bizarre combination. Carter waddled over to the couch and Donovan helped ease her down onto the cushions. Taking the seat beside her, he placed her legs over his. For a moment, they rested in the peace of it.

"What do you think about Eleanor?" Carter asked, eating from a carton, a pickle sticking out of the edge like it was an umbrella in a fruity drink.

"Like my mother?" Donovan asked.

"Or like Roosevelt."

"That's one option. What about Hillary?"

"As in Clinton?"

Donovan shook his head.

"Laura?" he asked.

"Like Bush?"

"Never mind."

They ate, their minds working out what name would fit the life that was yet to be lived.

"Nancy?"

Carter raised one eyebrow. "Like Reagan? No. What about Jacqueline."

"Like Kennedy?"

Carter started, her hand going to her stomach.

"What is it?" Donovan asked, his body suddenly alert. "Are you all right?"

Carter smiled, still gazing at her stomach.

"Yeah, she just kicked me." She took his hand and placed it over the spot. "Kennedy."

A grin broke over Donovan's face as he felt the little kick. The couple stared at each other, feeling the person who already held their fighting spirit. Donovan leaned forward and kissed Carter's stomach.

"Hello, Kennedy Owens-Keller."

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POW!!

(That was me being a superhero in case you were wondering)

So someone wanted Carter having cravings and another just wanted Carter being hormonal and pregnant, this was the ending result! I hope you enjoyed it.

If you feel like parting with some of those delightful thoughts of yours then I would love to hear (read) them!

Not going to lie I like the weakness Donovan showed at the beginning, it makes him human. And let's face it, most of the time he's completely perfect and more superhero than human. So it was nice to know he's still real...kinda, he's still pretty perfect.

Also I liked exploring the dynamic between him and his father a bit more. It's a strong relationship just not in the Carter and Steve type way.

If you have thoughts on that then let me know.

As always, if you feel so inclined to share a little love in the form of voting, commenting, or following then I will not be the one to stand in your way!