Weeks passed and press dragged on. To Jensen's unparalleled delight, there were less bad reporters than good ones. Apparently they'd been frontloaded. Their last night of press landed on Jensen's birthday, one night left in London until they left for Los Angeles the next day. Jensen wasn't in the mood for a plane, she wasn't in the mood to be thirty-five weeks, and she wasn't in the mood for Hollywood press. She wanted to be home. In her own bed. Sure, she'd be preparing for their baby, but at least she'd be back in Vancouver. The charm of London had worn off on her when she realized the smell outside was triggering something that she did not enjoy this late in her pregnancy.
Needless to say, leaving London the next day wasn't anything Jensen was complaining about.
Miles had decided that, although she dreaded going outside, that her last night in London was going to be the best thing he could make it. Tina had already insisted that Miles go with Jensen to see Six instead of her. ("I'm a fan of drama, kid," Tina had said, "but not fake drama.") (Jensen had the feeling telling her it was real history wasn't going to change her mind.)
"Miles," Jensen had said while they were packing Rocky's suitcase together a couple nights previous, "I really don't care."
Miles had pouted. Maybe Jensen could blame Rocky's pouting on him instead of herself. "But it's your birthday."
"And I'll be one year older," Jensen had said, "and we'll go see the show. Which is all I need."
"Can we at least do dinner?"
Jensen had paused folding a pair of Rocky's pants. "Does it mean that much to you?"
"This trip has been rough," Miles had said, "I'd be begging even if it wasn't your birthday."
Jensen had caved. She couldn't resist those ocean eyes. Not any day of the week.
So, there they were. Jensen having too much attention on her when she felt too old, too tired, and too bloated to do anything other than yearn for her bed at home. She didn't mean to be so pessimistic—well, more than usual. She was simply... done. She wanted their baby out of her and she wanted the bruised ribs to stop and she wanted to get to the other pains of being a mother like sore breasts and midnight crying and vomit-stained t-shirts.
"Babe, is this okay?" Miles stepped into their room. Having already panicked about the fact that he hadn't packed anything remotely nice to wear, Miles had left the room to stress search Maddox's suitcase and see if he had packed anything passable. (His next step was calling Scott before he arrived to help Maddox babysit Rocky for the night.) (The next next step was running outside and hoping a clothing store was open.)
"I already said you don't have to look—" Jensen turned and caught herself, eyeing Miles up and down. And up and down once more. Because she could.
It was simple, really. What Miles was wearing. Black shirt, navy suit. The pants were a little loose, the shirt a little snug. At some point, he'd changed the stud in his earring to a small hoop which Jensen thought might have been too soon, but she liked the way it looked. He hadn't put any shoes on to run to Maddox's room, so the socks with electric green dinosaurs printed across them were a bonus. And he looked wonderful.
"Is you staring a good or a bad sign?" A smile tugged at the corner of Miles' lips.
Jensen regained her composure. "You look handsome."
"Pretty!" Rocky said, jumping onto her bed and sitting down.
"Are you sure?" Miles' shoulders relaxed despite the question.
Jensen nodded. "Positive."
"'Cause he had this pink shirt—"
"No pink!" Rocky said.
"Miles, you look handsome," Jensen said. "Why are you so worried?"
"Because you're you and you're gorgeous and—" Miles held a hand out and moved it up and down. He dropped it at his side. "I mean, look at you in that dress."
Jensen looked down at what she was wearing. Pink and yellow roses printed across burgundy fabric. Loose, except for the band just below her chest. Long sleeves, also loose. Jensen grabbed it from her press tour wardrobe because it looked comfortable for sitting for over an hour in a theatre. A pair of untied sneakers were on her feet. She looked back up at Miles.
"I've seen you clean up puke in your boxers at three in the morning," Jensen said. "And you've seen me leak milk from my—"
"Rhodes, I'm being serious."
"So am I." Jensen walked over to him and kissed his cheek, a hand on his chest. "You look good."
"You're sure?" Miles' eyebrows knit together.
"You look great." Jensen kissed his nose. "Handsome." A cheek. "Beautiful." The other cheek. "Do I need more adjectives?"
"Maybe more kissing would help."
Jensen laughed and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "You might need some shoes."
"You might need to tie yours."
"I was hoping my gorgeous husband," Jensen started, walking back to their bed and sitting down, "would tie his very pregnant wife's shoes for her."
Miles smiled and walked over to her. Bending down on one knee, taking a foot and placing it on his thigh. He tied the shoe quickly and did the same to the other one.
Miles took her hand and kissed it. "Better?"
Jensen nodded. "Thank you."
"Doesn't your mama look pretty, Rock?"
"Pretty!" Rocky said, sliding off the bed and jumping on Miles' back. He let out a grunt, but clamped a hand around her arms so she wouldn't fall off him. "Like a princess!"
"A princess?" Miles said. "Hear that, Rhodes?" Miles kissed the top of her hand. "A princess."
There was a knock at the door. Miles' eyes widened and he turned.
"Can you please adjust miss Rock, Rhodes?"
"Shoulders?"
"Sure."
Jensen lifted Rocky and sat her on Miles' shoulders. He got up walked to the door, opening it.
"You ordered a couple babysitters for a birthday?" Definitely Scott.
"Lookin' good, Milo." Clearly Maddox.
Miles snorted. "Room's all yours. Rocky's had her nap."
Maddox and Scott walked into the room, Miles behind them.
Maddox gave Jensen a small salute. "Happy birthday, mama."
"Thanks," Jensen said.
"Happy birthday, J-Rhodes," Scott said.
"Thank you," Jensen said.
"Rocky can go to bed whenever," Miles said as he stepped into a pair of sneakers that matched Jensen's. Black and white canvas trainers were their look, after all. "Will probably fall asleep around seven."
"But if it's later, that's okay," Jensen said, "we have the plane tomorrow."
Scott held up a laptop. "We've got hours of movies to watch."
"We'll be good." Maddox tossed two bags of potato chips, a bag of gummies, and a couple cans of something likely sickeningly sweet onto Rocky's bed before taking her off Miles' shoulders.
"Don't worry about it," Scott said.
"You kids have fun!"
"Don't stay out too late."
"Or do anything I wouldn't do," Maddox said.
"Here's some cash in case you feel like—" Jensen started.
"Rhodes."
"—ordering pizza or something." Jensen dug through her purse.
"Jensen, it's cool," Scott said.
She found her English pounds and held it out to Maddox.
Maddox looked at Rocky in his arms. "My hands are full."
"Rocky—"
Jensen felt hands on her shoulders. She assumed they were Miles' as he was the only one she couldn't directly see. Turned around and steered out of the room.
"Miles—"
"We gotta go, thank you!" Miles said. "Good night, Rocky!"
"Night, daddy!"
"Good night, Rocky," Jensen said, still being led out of room.
"Night, mama!"
"Night, parents!" Maddox yelled.
"Have fun!" Scott said.
Miles closed the door behind them and took his hands off her shoulders.
"Can I please go pay them for dinner?"
"Nope."
"Please."
"Rhodes, we have dinner reservations," Miles said, "and the show is after. And we'll have a great time."
"I want to pay for their dinner, they're watching our kid."
"Jensen Rhodes, I love you so much," Miles said, "but can you please take a break from taking care of others and let someone else take care of you for one night?"
Jensen twisted the stud in her nose.
"Don't do that."
Jensen wrinkled her nose.
"Stop giving me sad Jensen eyes," Miles said. "Please?"
Jensen took a deep breath in and took his hand.
Miles squeezed her hand. "It's going to be fun."
Jensen kissed the side of his shoulder. "Lead the way."
"Are you going to attempt to enjoy yourself?"
"I'll be with you," Jensen said with a small nod. "It won't be an attempt."
Miles smiled softly as they walked out of the building. He held his hand out, Jensen raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Purse," Miles said.
"Are you sure?"
"You're not carrying your own purse today."
"I—really?"
"Of course."
Jensen smiled and handed the purse to him. "Thank you."
Miles slung her purse across his shoulder. After he hailed a taxi, Miles opened her door and let her slide in first. He said the restaurant name that they were headed to and took Jensen's hand the moment the cab started moving.
Jensen liked watching Miles during the drive. Eyes wandering. Staring out the window at the scenery they passed. She could practically see his mind racing. Every place he wanted to go with too little time to visit on that trip. Jensen would take a thousand airplanes if she got to watch him light up seeing new things. Back in Vancouver, he drove a lot; whether it was for their family or for his work. Miles rarely got a chance to stop and smell the roses. Jensen silently promised herself that she'd do more driving at home. She liked watching him sightsee.
Miles looked at Jensen and nudged her leg with his. "You okay?"
Jensen nodded. Kissed his shoulder. Rested her head against him upper arm.
The cab ride didn't take long. Miles assured it was close to where they were seeing Six because he knew she hated being late. When they got there, Miles paid for and got out of the cab and offered his hand to help Jensen, which she graciously took.
Miles had made a reservation, so they were seated quickly. There were more vegetarian items on the menu than Jensen had ever seen at a decently fancy restaurant.
"Miles."
"Yeah?"
"Did you look up the menu?"
"Why?"
"There's... there's a lot of... options. I mean—" Jensen looked up from her menu to Miles, who smiled slightly too wide. She bit her lip to keep from pouting. Pouting led to crying when she was happy. And, God, she didn't need to do that in the middle of a restaurant. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Miles ordered a fettucine primavera, Jensen the same. Most of the couples in the restaurant had a bottle of champagne between them. Jensen and Miles had a jug of ice water. Perfectly themselves.
"To you, Jensen Rhodes," Miles said, "here's another year of being perfectly you."
Jensen smiled and clinked their glasses together and they drank. "This is really nice."
"Anything for you," Miles said, "my love."
"Thank you."
Miles smiled. "Can I take a picture of you?"
"Can we have dinner to ourselves?" Jensen asked, though she didn't feel great about it. "We can take one at the theatre."
"Absolutely."
"Is that okay?"
"Of course." Miles nodded.
Dinner with Miles and no toddler was peaceful. Jensen loved Rocky. Of course Jensen loved Rocky. But having a night where she didn't have to help cut food or worry about spills. She didn't have to order plastic lids for glasses or cut up chicken nuggets. No trips to the bathroom when Jensen didn't need to use it. In short, Jensen hadn't been on a date with Miles in too long. She'd almost forgot what it felt like.
Their food came soon; every bite was delicious. They held hands across the table. She ran her foot up his leg and he grinned every time she did. Jensen wouldn't have had that night any other way.
"What's one thing," Miles said, taking a bite of pasta and shoving it to the side of his mouth, "that could make thirty-eight everything you want it to be?"
Jensen, who had been sipping from her water glass, put it back on the table. "I don't know."
"Come on, Rhodes. There's gotta be something."
"A healthy kid would be nice."
"I meant for you."
"I think they're clearly part of me at this point."
"What did we say about taking care of others tonight?"
"You said that." Jensen twirled pasta onto her fork.
Miles pointed his fork at her. Both a touché and a watch it.
Jensen's lips pulled to the side. "Is happiness a cop out?"
"No," Miles said, frowning. "But do you get that normally?"
"I do. I am," Jensen assured. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. "But I don't need anything physical. I want... It's... I've had some really bad days. And lessening those would be nice."
Miles nodded and raised his glass. "Happiness it is."
Eventually, empty plates and glasses sat in front of them. Hands still held each other across the table. Heads rested against fists as they continued to talk about nothing. Jensen could've spent hours talking to Miles about nothing. Until it started getting crowded. And loud. And Jensen started feeling stuffed in the restaurant.
"Do you want dessert?" Miles asked.
Jensen shook her head. "Do you?"
"It's all..." Miles tilted his head to the side. "It's all cheesecake."
"Can we go?" Jensen asked.
"I've gotta run to the bathroom," Miles said. "But we can head out after."
"We have to pay still," Jensen said. "But sure."
"They'll bring the bill. I'll be back in a minute."
"Okay."
"Do you need anything?"
"From the bathroom?" Jensen shook her head. "I think I'm good."
Miles snorted. "Be right back."
Miles walked away. Jensen went to grab her purse before she remembered Miles had taken it before they got there. She craned her neck to see if Miles had left it on his seat. Then got up and walked over to his side of the table, frowning when she didn't see the purse. Jensen slid into his seat.
"Can I get you anything else?" their waiter asked.
"Could I get the bill, please?" Jensen asked.
"Of course."
Jensen leaned over. Had the purse fallen of his seat? Had he taken it off?
"Rhodes?"
Jensen's eyes widened. "Um." She sat up. "Yeah?"
"Looking for something?" Miles made a show of adjusting the purse strap over his chest.
"I—" Jensen adjusted her dress. "No."
"You sure?"
"I'm positive," Jensen said. "May I please have my purse?"
"What for?"
"I think it goes with my outfit."
"We've been told the bill has already been paid for this table," the waiter said.
"Right. Um. Thank you," Jensen said.
"Have a wonderful night," the waiter said, "and stay as long as you want."
"Thanks," Miles said.
The waiter nodded and walked away.
Miles smiled. "You didn't really think you were paying the bill, did you?"
"Do I get to pay for anything at the show?"
Miles shook his head.
"Miles."
"Rhodes."
"Please?"
"Nope." Miles held his hand out. "Shall we?"
"Better watch your back on your birthday," Jensen said as she got out of the booth and took his hand. "It's going to be the biggest surprise of your life."
Miles smiled. "Whatever you say, Rhodes."
*
Six was everything Jensen could've wanted it to be, it was. There was singing and dancing and history and music and comedy and it wasn't too long, which Jensen and her hacky-sack bladder appreciated immensely. Miles carried Jensen's program and had tried on a shirt that she liked from the merchandise rack. Since it fit Miles, Jensen looked forward to it eventually being loose on her.
It was dark when they left the theatre. That didn't stop Miles from getting Jensen's picture in front of the Six marquee. Her t-shirt draped over his shoulder and her program carefully tucked under his arm. He didn't do it that moment, but Jensen was certain it was going to end up on an Instagram post. At least she wouldn't have to answer questions about what was in her envelope.
Miles wrapped an arm around her as they walked away from the theatre. "What did you think?"
"I think I'm in love with Anne Boleyn," Jensen said.
"Really?"
"You mean to tell me you didn't think Don't Lose Ur Head was the best song?"
"I mean," Miles started, a smile on his lips. "Sorry not sorry."
"I walked right into that." Jensen laughed.
"You really did." Miles laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm glad you liked it."
"If I ever decide to go back on stage, I want to be Catherine Parr."
"Last month you wanted to be Angelica Schuyler."
"I stand by that," Jensen said. "But I think Catherine Parr passed her."
Miles gasped. "Parr passed Schuyler?"
Jensen put a hand over her heart. "I had a moment during this show."
"You'll do great no matter which dead woman you play."
Jensen laughed. "Thank you."
"My pleasure," Miles said.
"You know that thing I said earlier?" Jensen said. "About happiness?"
"Yes." Miles stole a glance at her.
Jensen leaned into him slightly. "I think we're on the right track."
"Can we take the long way home?"
"Can you get us back?"
"I looked it up earlier."
Jensen smiled. "I'd like that."
It took about ten minutes of walking for Jensen to start feeling cold in the chilly London air. It may have been August, but Tina was right, London was less warm than Vancouver. Jensen ran a hand along her forearm, attempting not to touch Miles' hand on her bicep and give away that she was cold.
Apparently Miles had other thoughts.
He ran his hand up her arm a couple times. "Are you cold?"
Jensen scoffed, her breath evaporating in front of her eyes. "No."
"Funny cause—" Miles ran his hand up and down a couple more times. "I think I can feel goosebumps through your sleeve."
"Must be the fabric of the dress."
"Would the fabric of the dress like to wear my jacket?"
"The fabric would if it's not going to hear about it for the rest of the long way home."
"Not if it makes the fabric stop shivering."
Jensen's cheeks reddened and she hoped Miles couldn't see it in the dim streetlights. She couldn't have been shivering that badly, could she? Her teeth chattered together as a response. "The fabric would like that."
Miles took off his jacket, switching hands as he held Jensen's merchandise from the show. He handed it to her and Jensen slid her arms into it. Instantly wrapped in Miles' warmth.
"Better?" Miles asked as he wrapped his arm around her again.
Jensen considered herself a master of walking while cuddling into Miles' side, which was exactly what she did. "The fabric thanks you but is also worried you're going to be cold."
"Just gives me an excuse to cuddle the fabric while I go to bed," Miles said. "I'm fine with it."
Jensen smiled softly. "I am too."
The walk to the hotel didn't take long. And Jensen felt much warmer wearing Miles' jacket—well, Maddox's jacket. She kept trying to see if he was cold without it, but Miles showed no signs of being even remotely uncomfortable.
The elevator felt slower than usual. Jensen in Miles' arms was like swimming through melted chocolate. Time ticked slower. Ease settled in. The world felt safe.
They were quiet when they walked down the hall to their hotel room. Miles pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the door and closed it silently behind them. The light was still on as Jensen and Miles walked around the corner. Only to find Rocky tucked into her blankets, fast asleep. Maddox and Scott were on her and Miles' bed, also fast asleep; Maddox's head on Scott's chest and Scott's arms wrapped around him. Both laid out, comfortably taking up the entire couch. Scott's laptop had gone to sleep beside them, resting on Jensen's pillow.
Miles leaned so his lips were near Jensen's ear to whisper, "I'm thinking we don't wake them up."
Jensen stood on her toes to whisper in Miles' ear. "I'm still technically in Maddox's room. We can get a key."
"I'll grab pyjamas while you grab the key?" Miles whispered.
Jensen nodded. "Write a note too."
Miles took his arm off her and gave her a thumbs up.
Jensen left the room and went back down to the lobby. Getting the key was simple. Easy. She was back to Maddox's room in no time. Miles was down shortly after, clothing in one hand and toothbrushes in the other. Jensen could've kissed him until the sun came up when she saw her pregnancy pillow slung over his shoulder.
Jensen unlocked the door and they walked in. Miles untied Jensen's shoes for her and they changed quickly. They folded their clothes in one pile to pick up when they went back to their room in the morning. They brushed their teeth in the bathroom before walking to bed.
As they make themselves comfortable, Jensen felt Miles' arm gently wrap around her. His head curled into her shoulder. Always one to keep his promise.
"Thank you," Jensen said softly, "for tonight."
"I'm sorry it doesn't happen more often."
"Don't be." Jensen put her hand over his. "This is special."
Miles kissed her shoulder. "Happy birthday, Rhodes."