Archive of Our Own ^beta

The ways in which this potential pregnancy would be different from her first are apparent almost immediately. 

Because she just peed on a stick, it's, like, still wet, and the guy responsible for whether that stick tells her one word or two – 

( – or, at least, partially responsible, because, well, she was there, too – )

– is standing next to her. 

And, also, uh. 

It's Carisi. 

So, that's new. 

"What was it again? Three minutes?" Carisi says, grabbing the test box from the counter, like he didn't read it – in its full fucking entirety – before finally agreeing that this was the one they should get.

(Which was good, because if she is pregnant, and he'd taken any longer, she'd probably have given birth, like, in CVS.)

"Yeah," she says. "Three minutes."

Another five seconds tick by. 

"Do you, uh – " Sonny starts, cutting himself off when she looks at him from her seat on the closed lid of the toilet.

"Sit down, you're making me nervous," she says, gesturing at the edge of the bathtub, the curtain she'd pulled back specifically so he could sit there, and not stress her out. 

"Right, uh, right," he says, and seats himself on the porcelain – or whatever her tub is made of, beats her. 

His leg immediately starts bouncing, but she'll let him have that, is, in fact, bouncing her foot where it dangles from her crossed leg. 

She's a little hunched over, too, her arms crossed over her stomach, and it's maybe a weird way to be sitting, but it – it feels better, like she's holding everything in, because the second she lets even a tiny bit of it go, she's going to have a meltdown. 

She can feel the shadow of it looming over her, has, frankly, spent the last twelve-ish hours ignoring it, but she – she's got at least her body weight's worth of feelings about all this. 

Because she's only just figured out how to have a real, adult relationship, and was only able to do it because she'd been tricked.

Or, well, tricked sounds bad. 

It's like – it's like how Jesse wouldn't eat carrots, but would eat Sonny's bolognese. 

And then when he'd let her help chop carrots for the bolognese, and she realized they were in there, she had to make a choice – 

Did Jesse not like carrots or was she gonna stop eating Uncle Sonny's sauce?

Did Amanda not like adult relationships or was she gonna stop –

(Well, it wasn't really the eating Sonny's, uh, sauce that had gotten them here, but – )

– was she gonna stop hanging out with him? Stop being in love with him? 

Stop sleeping with him? 

Apparently not.

And it had taken a lot of work (and a few early, promising sessions with a therapist) but she had really committed to it – Sonny deserved that from her, and she owed it to herself, too. 

Only to get pregnant before they'd even had an anniversary. 

Or, well, maybe. They'll find out in – 90 seconds. 

"Halfway," Sonny says, just as she looks up from her phone timer. 

"Yeah," she says, scratching at the knee of her pants. She only just bought these, had a feeling they were going to become a favorite, and she – she was gonna outgrow them. Maybe. 

"Are you, uh, look, are you sure you don't want to talk about this?" Sonny says. 

She shrugs. "So we say a bunch of stuff that's definitely going to change things for us, and then it might not even matter?  Let's just…make sure we need to say it."

"Manda," Sonny says, eyebrows furrowing in a way that makes lines appear on his forehead. "I – I love you. We say that to each other already. What would change – ? What other stuff?"

No.

Just – no.

Like, honestly? 

No. 

There must be something in her posture because when she looks at him, he's raising his hands, palms out, but she blows right by.

"What other stuff? In case you haven't noticed, I've already done this – it's, goddamn it, Carisi, it's a lot, it's hard, it's – it's gonna change your whole fucking life, and what if you –"

The anger leaves her as quickly as it'd come, making her feel hollow. 

She doesn't – she doesn't resent him, had worked up the nerve to ask her therapist even, but what he knows of family and love and…the other stuff – it's a lot different from what she knows. 

He rocks forward off the tub, until he's crouching in front of her, the way she's all twisted up like a pretzel, and catches her eye. 

"I won't," he says, and it sounds so simple. 

She nods, but it's mostly because she knows he won't let it go if she doesn't, and only a little because she knows he thinks he means it. 

She taps at her dark phone screen where it's perched on the counter, bringing up the timer. The test is on the other side vanity, out of view unless they're looking for it, which they'll be doing in –

Ten seconds. 

Okay, all right. It'll be okay either way. She's either not pregnant or – 

Jesse's the greatest thing that's ever happened to her. 

She's a happy, healthy kid who would just love a sibling. 

And Sonny's amazing with her, even if they don't work, Sonny will –

The alarm sounds and Sonny reaches up to turn it off. 

"Ready?" he says, and stands from his crouch, reaching a hand to help pull her up with him. 

He looks at her and it's almost too much, he's trying so hard to look neutral, but if she's looking for it, she can see both tension and hope, though he's muscling both back. 

She nods. 

"You go," he says, shifting so she can get by in the narrow space. 

She scoots by him, takes a deep breath, and looks down at the counter:

PREGNANT 

It's joy first, bright and unbidden, before it's tackled by anxiety, but she wrestles that off, too – suddenly keenly aware that she's about to tell Sonny he's going to be a father. 

She knows this means something to him, that it's something he'd wanted, in a vague, lifetime sense, and it's…happening, this way, whether he'd have chosen it or not. 

She turns to face him. 

"I'm pregnant."

His eyebrows raise gently, his whole face going soft and open and – oh, she's gonna cry. 

That's – that's – she's crying. 

He bundles her up against his chest, pressing a kiss in her hair near her forehead, but she's already pushing back, wiping at her cheeks. 

"I'm not sad," she assures him, and it's watery, but she just – she wants him to know that much, at least.

"I'm not sad either," he says. "I'm – "

He glances down at her, like he's gauging whether she can hear it, whether it'd be too much, and though he's looking at a tear-streaked woman, he continues. 

" – I'm happy."

"Yeah?"

"I think so," he says. "If you are."

He's watching her carefully.

"I'm not sad," she says again.

"Okay," he says, nodding. "Okay, I'll just be…not sad either."

Leaning down, he tips his forehead to hers for a moment, before pressing a soft kiss to her mouth.

"I'm really not sad," he says, softly.

She kisses him again.

&&. 

To have to go to work – on a Monday – after a morning like that is kind of…annoying.

Especially because it feels like she's already lived a full day. 

They'd gotten up early to get Jesse to daycare early, and then the approximately eighteen hours they spent in CVS, and then the, uh, part in the bathroom, where she found out she's pregnant again, and she can't believe her shift, and the week, is just starting. 

Carisi had slept over, and obviously been with her for all the other stuff, but he'd left her about fifteen minutes ago, ducking into a donut shop to stagger their arrivals and also – well, also because he thought she wanted donuts. 

She hadn't even considered the implication of wondering out loud if they had any blueberry cake ones left when they'd walked by. 

She just was genuinely wondering – sometimes they're out of them, even this early in the day – and he hadn't done anything other than shrug and say, "I'll find out," but she somehow got the impression it was about the –

Oh my god, about the baby. 

They're having a baby. 

It feels different in her mouth, in her brain, to say it like that. 

She's pregnant, look, see, easy, it's been what, less than an hour, and she can say it. 

(Is she winning therapy? Because sometimes it feels like she's winning therapy, already.)

But – but the…baby. 

A baby. 

Her hand finds her stomach under the cover of her desk. 

She and Carisi made a baby. 

Which is – okay, look, she's got a toddler – 

( – wait, maybe they don't call her that anymore, maybe she's too old, Amanda can never keep up with all the words, all the blogs, it's all so overwhelming, and, oh god, if Carisi finds the blogs? – )

– and she can feel the phantom weight of Jesse on her hip now, the solid heft of her. 

But babies are so small. 

She's struck suddenly by the memory of Carisi lifting Jesse out of her stroller back when she was on maternity leave. 

The casual way he'd passed her his coffee and re-swaddled Jesse's blankets before lifting her up, the proud look on his face when she'd quieted. 

The size of her in his arms, his hand so much bigger than Jesse's head.

The – the longing she'd felt. She remembers that, too. 

She's never had God or the universe or whatever answer her quite so literally before, was actually mostly convinced no one was listening, and had stopped asking, but this was a little on the nose. 

She makes a note to look longingly at a few brownstones on the way home later, just in case this is like, a power she's had this whole time, and – oh god, she's gonna have to move.

Before that can be another spiral, Carisi drops a white paper bag on her desk. 

"There's two blueberry in there," he says, holding a box in the other hand. "I'm gonna take these to the breakroom."

"Not yet you're not," Fin says, from his desk. "Let me see about that jelly first."

Carisi dutifully walks the box over to him, opening it against his arm, so Fin can grab what he wants. 

"No white bag special for me?" Fin says, donut carefully pinched between his fingers to avoid the jelly already leaking from the side. 

"I, uh, I lost a bet," Carisi says. 

"Yeah," Amanda says, "he owes me a coffee, too."

"Do I?" Carisi says, turning to look at her, as he snaps the donut box shut. "I wasn't sure if you were, uh – in the mood for coffee."

"No, yeah, I'm just cutting back," she says, catching Carisi's eye. "Gonna get down to a cup a day."

"Now that's a bet I'd take," Fin says. "You won't last a week."

"We'll see, Fin, we'll see," she says, as Sonny heads to drop the donuts off, and they go back to their inboxes.

Five minutes later, her phone vibrates – a text from Sonny with a screenshot of her usual coffee order from the delivery place, and a question mark.  

She sends him back a thumbs up and Venmo's him $20. 

When she glances at him, he's already looking at her, and though she expects him to roll his eyes for sending the twenty bucks, and he does, he's smiling softly, too. 

They're having a baby. 

&&. 

She'd been in interrogation for the second half of the day, but Sonny had left around dinner to relieve Jesse's nanny, so she knows he'll be on the other side of this door when she opens it.

And that he'll have made spaghetti. (It's Monday and she can smell it.)

And that they're going to need to talk. (It's Monday and she's pregnant.)

She's – well, she's looking forward to the spaghetti, at least. 

Making her way into the apartment, she's greeted by the sight of Jesse coloring at the kitchen table and Sonny stirring something on the stove, both of them with half-broken pieces of uncooked spaghetti jutting from their mouths like toothpicks. 

She leans down to give Jesse a hug where she's sitting in her chair. "Hey, baby."

"I got a little noodle," Jesse says, around where she's pinched it together between her front teeth. 

"You are a little noodle," Amanda tells her, kissing her cheek before standing to cross to Sonny. 

"Hey," he says, the uncooked spaghetti hanging casually out of the side of his mouth in a way she's kind of into. "They confess?"

"No, but I think Stone's gonna get them to cut a deal anyway," she says.

"Yeah? That's good. Probably offer him Sexual Misconduct."

She nods, peering at the noodles boiling in the pot.

"It's almost ready," Sonny says. "You can go get changed if you want."

"Thanks." She gives him a kiss on the cheek not blocked by spaghetti and heads to her room. 

They'd only just started doing that – being a little freer with their affection in front of Jesse. 

Nothing more than cheek kisses and hand holding really, they haven't talked about it, but she's been using the way she'd touch Jesse herself as a barometer, figuring it wouldn't raise any alarms that way. 

And wouldn't then accidentally come up in front of anyone from the station that way. 

But now – shit. 

She's only just realizing it, but if they tell Jesse there's a baby in her stomach, she's gonna tell everyone. 

Amanda had a mole removed a month ago and Jesse had even told the UPS guy about it. 

If Momma's got a boo-boo on her back is news, then I'm getting a sister or a brother definitely is. 

She puts on a softer pair of pants, not quite sweatpants, but not quite not, and unbuttons an extra few buttons from her work shirt. She half-tucks it into her waistband, rubbing a hand across her stomach, and sending a mental greeting below as she does. 

She'd talked to Jesse in her head the whole pregnancy, almost like a friend, a constant companion along for the ride. Sometimes it was serious, and heartfelt, and what she hoped was motherly, sometimes it was…not. 

You fucking believe this guy? (Watching some idiot in traffic)

I can't pee right now, give me 20 minutes, all right? (Bargaining for control of her own body)

Should we get this one or this one? – picking out movies, groceries, a new sweater, all of it run by the tiny mental Jesse in her head.

She says a lot of that stuff out loud to Sonny now, she's realizing, but she'd still found herself mentally bargaining with this new baby throughout the day, and should probably introduce herself. 

Hey, kid, she thinks, but before she can get much further, she hears Sonny from the kitchen. 

"Dinner's ready," he hollers, and Jesse shouts it again right after him, making Amanda smile and shake her head. 

That's your dad and your sister, she thinks, and tries the words on. 

No matter what happens, those words are true. 

Sonny'll be there for this baby – whatever happens with them, this baby has a father. And a sister.

She's pulling her hair up into a knot as she walks to her seat at the table, slowing up so Sonny can set her plate down. 

When he turns, he gives a teasing, little leer at the half-unbuttoned state of her shirt, raising his eyebrows, but then his eyes move to her stomach, and soften. 

"Sit down," Jesse insists, and they both turn to look at her. 

"I'm hungry," she adds. 

"Oh, of course, sorry to keep the lady waiting," Amanda says, and she and Sonny both take their seats. 

They eat and Jesse tells them about the library and the dog she saw that looked just like Frannie. 

These two stories take the entirety of the meal, but Sonny stays engaged throughout, asking questions long after Amanda has risen to clear the plates. 

"I'll do those," he calls over to her, when she turns the water on.

"I can do the dishes, Carisi," she says. "You cooked."

"I know, but – "

"I got it," she says, and gives him a look. 

"All right, all right," he says, raising his hands. "Thanks."

"Thanks for dinner."

He nods and turns back to Jesse, letting her talk until there's a long enough break to speak – an exercise Amanda is very familiar with lately. 

"What'd you say we get Frannie ready for her walk?" he says. "You think we'll see her twin?"

Jesse nods excitedly, dashing off to grab Frannie's leash, as Sonny rises to join Amanda at the sink. 

"At least let me dry, c'mon," he says, taking the dish she's just finished rinsing.  

"Fine," she says. "But you – you know I did this all by myself the first time, right?"

"I do," he says, and doesn't elaborate. 

Jesse returns, leash in hand, and though it takes another ten minutes to get out the door, they make it.

&&. 

Once Jesse's asleep, she and Carisi sit back down at the table, the first time they've been alone in almost a dozen hours. 

"I know we have to talk," she says. 

"Yeah, we, uh, we do."

"I just – don't know where to start," she says. 

He puts a hand on top of hers. "'Okay, how about – " he takes a breath. "'Manda, what was that about this morning? The other stuff?"

She'd been worried about this, throughout the day, isn't even really sure what the answer is, and she feels a wave of tears. 

Fucking hormones.

He immediately looks stricken and she brushes him off. 

"This is gonna happen a lot," she says. "Just ignore it."

"Oh, yeah, my pregnant girlfriend is crying, I'll just ignore it," he gives her such a dopey look, like she's being ridiculous, that she smiles.

"I like it when you call me that," she says. "The girlfriend part."

"Yeah? I like saying it." He squeezes her hand where it rests under his before releasing it, settling back more relaxed in his chair. 

"All right, look," Sonny says, but it sounds mock serious. "We can either talk about whether that's Dominick Carisi the Third you're carrying or the…other stuff."

She rolls her eyes. "The first part's gonna be easy – I am not."

(Wait, oh my god, is she though? Does he like – expect that?)

He laughs and she blows out a grateful breath. 

"And the second part?" he prompts. 

She's trying so hard, but it's – this part's not easy. She's still unpacking a lot of this, with professional help, even, which should count for something, and she doesn't even really have an answer. 

She just – she couldn't bear Sonny making her a bunch of promises, under duress. 

She knows he loves her, but – love isn't all of it. 

There has to be more, when it's a family. And she knows because she had less. 

"I don't know," she says finally. "I – I'm going to think you're gonna leave. I just am. Things are gonna get hard, I'm gonna get like this – "

She gestures at her face.  

" – and I just – I don't want you staying because you made a bunch of promises you shouldn't have had to make, you know?"

"Okay," he says and he nods, but it looks like it was to himself. "Okay. Rollins, listen, I'm gonna stay. And if I can't promise you, then I'll – I'll just do it. All right?"

She nods. 

"I'm gonna be a father to – " His eyes go soft again, glancing at her stomach, and she feels guilty for doubting him, but it's not like she's doing it on purpose. 

So now she just also feels guilty. 

" – our baby," he says. "And I'm gonna be a – whatever you want, to you. Say the word."

"A boyfriend," she says quickly, because she knows what he's implying. 

"Boyfriend," he agrees. 

She looks at him across the table, her boyfriend. 

The father of her child. 

He's – she – she did well this time, maybe. Probably. 

"'Manda, we're having a baby," he breathes. "I'm gonna be a dad."

(She starts crying again, but this one was earned.)

&&. 

"Sonny, Outback's fine dining where I'm from, we had to drive to Snellville," she says, tapping to open the site on her phone. "I'm just gonna order delivery."

"C'mon, Rollins, let me make you something, run out and pick it up, whatever – that's my kid you're feeding this garbage –"

"And your kid wants Aussie fries."

"No, they don't."

"You're being a snob."

"I am being reasonable."

"Coastal elite."

"C'mon, look, what's it, the bacon? Let me get some pancetta – "

"This is over," she says, turning her phone around, the order confirmation displayed there.

"I swear, Amanda, the first time this kid asks my mother for a Bloomin' Onion, I am not dealing with it."

She laughs. "Do they, like – do they know?"

They hadn't really talked about any of that, she wasn't bringing it up, and so he wasn't either. 

She wouldn't show for a while yet, a month or two, but she knows how close he is with his family, and they could probably be trusted to keep it from Olivia – another thing they needed to figure out – even if Jesse couldn't. 

"Oh – uh. About that. You're, uh, you're gonna need to be around when that happens. And, honestly? It should probably be in person."

"Oh. Um. Okay, yeah, no, I guess – I guess that makes sense."

"You're carrying her grandchild, and she didn't even know we were dating," he says. "It's – listen, Rollins, it's gonna be a lot."

"I'm a cop," she says. "I think I can handle your mother."

"I'm a cop, you think that matters? And speaking of – we're gonna need to get our stories straight."

"Oh, is she gonna ask how it started? Should I tell her you fingered me in a stakeout van?"

Sonny's cheeks go so red, so fast it's like his mother is standing here, in her half-packed living room. 

"Please don't – we'll just…leave out the graphic parts, it happened naturally, blah, blah, blah."

"Blah, blah, blah? So romantic, Dominick, I don't know if I can help myself – "

"Oh, yeah?" He pushes forward on the couch, kissing her soundly, but pulling back when she tries to climb into his lap.

"Hey, hey, none of that – I really think you're underestimating the preparations needed to break this news to my mother."

"She's – she's gonna be happy though, right?" 

"Yeah, Rollins, she's gonna be happy."

&&. 

Moving fucking sucks. 

The real estate market in Manhattan also fucking sucks. 

Except this time, when it didn't, and they'd found the perfect place so much quicker than either of them anticipated that – due to the need to jump on it, and the Carisi family calendar being jam-packed, making getting one-on-one time with just his parents a few weeks' long exercise – they're gonna move in together before anyone else even knows. 

They'd found a place that would fit all four of them, but still be fine for just her and the girls, if, uh, if needed, someday. 

Sonny was gonna keep his place through the end of his lease, which ended just a month before the baby was born, at which point everyone would know anyway. 

And, here, now, standing in their new kitchen, with an expandable island and two bathrooms down the hall, surrounded by boxes, she's a little…stunned. 

She really, really hadn't meant to move this fast. 

But – no. 

She can't win therapy by ignoring therapy.

She is allowed to have good things. Healthy things. She is an adult and this is an adult step to take, in the adult relationship she is trying so hard not to fuck up. 

She sucks in a breath. 

Listens to the sound of Sonny and Jesse down the hall, talking about the seashells she's gonna paint on her bathroom wall.

Counts the boxes and tries to remember what's inside, remember the three of them packing as the sun streamed through the windows. 

(And thunder pounded outside.)

(And once, as a parade went by.).

(Look, packing is a process. An exhausting, horrible process.)

Her therapist told her to remind herself she was safe. 

But that's – sometimes that's part of the problem. 

Safe has never, ever lasted. 

Fuck. Stop. Stop. 

She will make safe last – for Jesse, and for this new baby, and – and for Sonny. 

With one more deep breath, she lifts the flap on a box. 

&&. 

"All right," Sonny says, turning the car off in the driveway of his parents' house. "You're sure you're ready?"

They'd managed a Saturday afternoon lunch – Jesse with Liv (though she didn't know the real reason) and both of his parents, only his parents, in attendance. 

"Yes, Sonny, I'm sure," she says. "And besides, your mom just looked at us through the window."

"Oh, she knew when we turned the corner, ears like a bat, my mother."

"Bet that made high school fun."

"It's why I listen to music in the shower," he says, waggling his eyebrows, before opening the car door and stepping out, as Amanda does the same. 

"Can't believe you made me think about you jerking off right as we're walking into your mom's house," she says, when she meets him at the front of the car. 

"And now you've said it like that, so we're even," he says, ushering her up the driveway. 

Sonny doesn't knock, just keys in, and she follows him, remembering all the stuff he told her – she's supposed to go to his mom first, take a second helping, not turn down dessert. 

There was a whole list and she wonders, in what is probably not exclusively hormonal jealousy, if he'd prepared all his girlfriends like this, how many of them met his parents. 

(Well, none of them were carrying his kid, so that was something.)

Before she knows it, his parents are standing in front of her. 

She's glad she'd made him show her a picture, Serafina Carisi would've been an intimidating presence to meet cold, and, even still, she stammers a little as she says – 

"Mrs. Carisi, Mr. Carisi, it's so nice to meet you, thank you so much for having me."

She – she blacks out a little bit there for a second after that, only feeling like she swims back to herself somewhere after dessert, seated on a loveseat next to Sonny in the Carisi family living room, and staring at a statue of a very beautiful, very judgmental Virgin Mary on the mantel. 

"This? This is who you didn't want everyone to meet?" Mrs. Carisi is saying. "Dominick –"

And then she clicks her tongue, a little tut that makes even Amanda feels shamed. 

"Uh, yeah, Ma, about that – "

Oh, Jesus – er, uh, sorry, not like that in this house, not with the man Himself staring at her from no less than three places. 

Oh…golly. Here they go. 

"We, uh, we've got something to tell you," Sonny says, and is she supposed to hold his hand? They'd talked about a lot of this, but not – is she supposed to hold his hand?

He picks her hand up.

(Oh, okay.)

"You're getting married?" Mrs. Carisi says, as Amanda feels the room swim a little bit, mentally telling the kid to get it together down there.

(...maybe that one was Amanda.)

But they'd prepared for this – for his mom to guess that. 

"Let 'em speak," Mr. Carisi says. "What are you doing? For crying out loud, c'mon."

And for his dad to stop her. 

Mrs. Carisi rolls her eyes at him and he mugs at her in return, but the whole thing feels so fond or something that Amanda sends another one down to the kid, that their grandparents seem pretty cool. 

Okay, she needs to focus though, the next part's the tough part –

"Thanks, Pop," Sonny says, which feels bold, until he adds, "Uh, sorry, Ma. No, we're not – not getting married, but Amanda's –"

He looks at her, nervous, and a little bit thunderstruck, but…happy, and turns back to his parents, " – pregnant."

"I'm getting a grandchild?" his mom says.

"You are," Sonny says. "Gonna need another Christmas stocking."

Mrs. Carisi nods, and Amanda's patting herself on the back for how well she just…sat here in silence, when suddenly, she's being addressed.

"Amanda, your daughter – is her father in the picture?"

"Ma." Sonny says, raising an apologetic hand at Amanda.

"Um, it's complicated, but – but she really loves her Uncle Sonny."

"Beautiful, I'll have two new grandchildren then, even better. And we'll talk about the marriage."

Mr. Carisi rises from his armchair, crossing closer to where they're sitting on the loveseat. 

"Congratulations, Sonny, Amanda – I look forward to meeting both of them," he says. 

He claps them each on the shoulder, grabs a magazine off the end table, and walks out of the room. 

Sonny tilts his head to her, giving her a small, reassuring nod. "It's good," he says, under his breath.

"Now, tell me, Amanda, are you hoping for another girl?" Mrs. Carisi says, and Amanda squeezes Sonny's hand. 

The rest of the afternoon passes in a tour of family albums and baby pictures – to prove "the Carisis make remarkably cute babies," which, okay, Amanda's not gonna say she's wrong, but Amanda herself made the cutest baby on the planet already, so.

("You're absolutely right," she'd said out loud, and she knows in her heart this new kid's gonna be adorable, too, and if they have his dimples?

Forget it. Gerber, look out.)

By the time they're bundled back in Sonny's car, they have enough food to feed their entire apartment building –

(Their.)

– and she's gotten a few more words out of Dominick, Sr., but not too many. 

("He was going to the bathroom, he said congratulations, can't ask for much more than that," Sonny had told her, when they'd had a moment to themselves, and, well, she couldn't really disagree.)

That night, for reasons she knows aren't all pasta-related, she temporarily retires her last pair of skinny jeans. 

&&. 

Things pass pretty easily through the rest of the first trimester and into the second. 

Jesse's started to notice her stomach, not unkindly, but in the way of a kid observing the world. 

She blames it on Uncle Sonny's cooking (also not unkindly) and then immediately recants, trying to figure out how not to tell her about the baby, while also not giving her any additional ammo that might clue an adult in on the baby – or at least on their relationship. 

Jesse's already got enough of that, she's practically a walking, talking, incriminating information bomb. 

And she goes off three days later. 

&&.

They're standing in the lobby of Noah's recital on Sunday afternoon, talking shop with Olivia, Peter, and Fin, as Jesse waits for Noah to be done with his friend from class, clearly eager to be included in conversation in the meantime.

"Mom, can Aaron sleep over next Friday?" 

"We'd have to ask his mom, honey," Olivia says, and goes back to arguing with Stone over his thoughts on what they'd need to bring this case they're working on to trial. 

"I just think you need to start thinking of her side of this – " Olivia starts, but Noah speaks again. 

"His mom already said yes – "

"I'll need to hear that from her," Olivia says. 

"I have sleepovers," Jesse interrupts. 

"Who sleeps over at your house?" Noah says, like he's trying to decide if she could have cool friends or not. Boys are…something. Ah, maybe girls are, too, what's she saying –

Wait – what is she saying – what is Jesse saying?

"Uncle Sonny," Jesse says. "Uncle Sonny sleeps over."

The way three heads turn to look at them in unison feels like something out of a horror movie. 

"Mice," Sonny says. "My place had mice one time. Rollins let me crash on her couch."

"Last night he made tacos," Jesse says. 

Fuck. 

Well, there was that. 

"Do we need to talk?" Olivia says, eyes bouncing between her and Carisi. 

He glances at her and she nods. 

"We, uh, we probably should," Carisi says. 

"Tomorrow morning, then," Olivia says, giving them a close-lipped smile. "C'mon, Noah, let's go find Aaron's mom."

Fin leans into Amanda, tipping his head to the side, "I just won fifty bucks," and he walks away. 

Jesse has started edging toward the cardboard cactus decoration in the corner of the lobby, so Amanda follows after her, leaving Carisi with Stone.

He joins them in the corner a few minutes later, looking pensive, but, well, he'd just lied to their boss, they've been lying to their boss, and they just got busted, so she can't blame him. 

&&. 

They stop for smoothies on the way home, walking Jesse to a park, and promising she can go on the swings in a few minutes – they just want to tell her something. 

(No point in making sure the cat stays in the bag when the cat is already out of the bag – she's been waiting what feels like forever to tell her.)

"Jesse, you know how Momma's belly's been getting a little bigger?"

Jesse nods. 

"It's gonna get a lot bigger, because you – " she taps the tip of Jesse's nose, " – you've got a little brother or sister in there. What do you think of that?"

"That is so cool," Jesse says, her new word of the week, pressing her hands to Amanda's stomach. 

"It is pretty cool, sweetheart," Amanda says, smiling at Sonny over Jesse's head. 

"Uncle Sonny, will you visit when the new baby comes, too?"

So, okay – it didn't occur to her that they're gonna have to spell out that Sonny's the dad until they have to…spell out that Sonny's the dad, and that feels like a huge fuck up. 

How did she miss this?

Sonny freezes, realizing it at the same time. 

"Uh, actually, honey, this baby – ?" She points at her stomach, and then at Sonny. "Uncle Sonny's their dad."

The anger on Jesse's face comes on like a thunderstorm. 

"That's not fair!" Jesse says, releasing a wail.

Oh, god. She's gone zero for two with this, how could she be so stupid? 

Of course Jesse would be jealous. 

Carisi nods at her solemnly, the miscalculation they've both made hanging in the air, as Jesse winds herself up. 

There's a shortcut around all of this, Amanda can see it clear as day – can see it, actually, in the way Sonny's watching Jesse, helpless and hurting for her. 

She wishes she'd been able to talk about it with him first, really should have when his mom had brought up two grandchildren, but – they're here now. 

And that look he's giving her daughter, well, she's – she's his daughter, too. 

"Because you don't have a daddy?" Amanda says, gently. 

"Because Uncle Sonny should be my dad," she roars. 

And, oh, okay, she'll just spell it out for both of them, then. 

Amanda glances at Sonny, but he's still looking at Jesse – like, well, a lot like he looks at Amanda's stomach. 

When Sonny finally shifts his eyes to hers, it's clear it's for permission, and not direction. 

She nods, and tears flood her eyes again. 

Hormones, just…hormones. And maybe one of the most emotional moments of her life. Just – you know, that. Not heavy at all. 

"I'll be your dad, Jesse," Sonny says, "if that's what you want."

And, swear to god, Amanda feels her heart glow. 

"Oh," Jesse says, abruptly. "Okay."

She wipes at her cheeks, and then looks from Amanda to Sonny suspiciously, like she thinks she's pushing her luck. "Can I call you that?"

"If you want," Sonny says again, making sure Jesse knows that this is all on her terms, and smiling at her with the eye crinkles and everything. Amanda's dumb heart is gonna burn out of her chest. 

(Maybe – maybe not so dumb. If it led her here.)

"Dad," Jesse says, softly, looking at him as she tries it out. "Daddy."

Sonny looks – Sonny looks overwhelmed, and Amanda knows the feeling, her hand resting against her stomach.

"Yeah, Jess?" he says. 

"Could you please share the smoothie now?"

&&.

If they'd had a white board, or anything close, she would've dragged it out and made it feel like work in here, the way she's planning to game this out with Carisi.

Caught short twice with Jesse (though it had ended…really well), they were going to Olivia Benson with nothing short of a bulletproof gameplan in – ohh, about twelve hours. 

Sonny joins her at the table, a stack of Oreos balanced between his middle finger and thumb, and she knows he's going to systematically work through them with the glass of milk he deposits them next to in that ritual he has – honestly, it's – it's fascinating to watch.

Surprising her, he hands her one instead, and then just – takes a whole fucking bite of a cookie.

She's never seen him do that before – she doesn't even do that – but when he's done chewing, he gestures broadly with the remainder of the Oreo. 

"Maybe – maybe one of us should just…not be a cop," he says.

It looks sort of…lawyerly, and sounds like an opening argument, and it's that thought that makes her realize where he's going with this. 

"No, Sonny, c'mon, that other stuff, from before? From the beginning? This is it. I don't want you giving your job up for me."

"'Manda, I'd be lying if I said I haven't been thinking about it – even before all this, before us. I didn't get that law degree just to light some money on fire."

"But you – you love being a cop."

"I could love being a lawyer. I'd love maybe being a little safer, gonna have two kids at home."

She smiles at him at that, and he smiles back, a pair of absolute saps, the both of them. 

(She loves him so much.)

"But, okay, so, how would that even work? What, private practice? You gonna join a firm?"

He shrugs, "I guess I could, probably land something interesting having been on the job, but that's – that's not quite what I was thinking."

She leans forward, because that had sounded like he had something. "What were you thinking?"

"So, Stone mentioned to me, after Jesse, uh, spilled the beans, that he's – he's been thinking about leaving – says he's been…compromised."

Amanda raises her eyebrows. That would be shocking, he seemed like one of the good ones, but she's been surprised before. 

"Nah, not like that, I think it's a woman, actually, believe that? But – he thinks between him and Barba, and my history at SVU, I could maybe, if the wind's blowing the right way, land his spot."

"ADA, Sonny, really?"

He shrugs, a little bashful, but she can tell he's proud of himself that Stone had even mentioned it.  

"And that's something you'd…want to do?"

"I think – I think it is, 'Manda."

"And we'd be good then? To – to be together?"

"Yeah, Stone mentioned I'd have to disclose when I interviewed, and obviously Liv would know know if I got the job, but…yeah."

"Counselor Carisi, huh?"

He grins at her, charming and cute (and, god, hers).

"I think I like dad better, but, yeah, that'll work."

She kisses him. 

&&.

Walking to Benson's office that morning had felt an eerie amount like walking to the principal's office when she'd been caught in the middle of a fight. 

They both bear it the way they should though, shoulders back and chins up, as they have a seat in front of her desk.

"Now, was there something you wanted to tell me?" Olivia asks.

"Carisi and I are involved," Amanda says.

"Okay – " Liv says.

" – and living together – "

"...okay."

" – and I'm pregnant."

Liv blows out a big breath. "All this and taco night did you in, huh?" She looks a little entertained and, honestly, a little happy for them. "I assume you were preparing to tell me this morning anyway, correct?"

"Yes, Lieutenant," they say in unison.

"Is there anything else?"

"Actually, Liv, I'm looking into a position at the DA's office," Carisi says. "Thinking about maybe using my law degree."

…and Liv arches an eyebrow and nods. 

Ah, so Stone and Benson are closer than she realized, if he's told her he's thinking of leaving, and that he'd tapped Carisi, in less than eighteen hours.  

"I'd hate to see you leave, but I think that might be a good fit for you, Detective," Liv says. "I'll make sure to add my recommendation to Stone and Barba's."

"Thank you, Olivia," Sonny says, with weight, and Amanda feels so damn proud of him. 

"You're welcome," she says. "And congratulations, you two, I'm so, so happy for both of you."

"Thanks, Liv," Amanda says.

"All right, dismissed, go take your knocks from Fin, too."

When they get back to the bullpen, Fin lounges at his desk, swinging open a drawer and pulling out a white paper bag that he tosses at Sonny.

"Two blueberry," he says. "You two're not as subtle as you think. Especially to those of us out here in the peanut gallery with you."

Amanda lifts the bag from Sonny's hands, opening it. There's actually donuts in there. Good ones.

"Thanks, Fin."

"You two are also gonna be buying me donuts from here on out, with how short-staffed you're gonna leave us," he says. 

"I didn't get the job yet, Fin."

"You got the job, Carisi, c'mon, man."

&&.

Sonny had demurred with Fin, but the day before they find out the sex of the baby, he finds out he did, in fact, get the job. 

He'll start when she returns from maternity leave to help with coverage – and Stone's agreed to stay a little while longer on the other side. The department's allowed them to work together for the time remaining until she delivers, as long as she remains on desk duty.

(Something Liv had finally made her start last week anyway – it's aggravating, but she'll live.)

Carisi and Barba had been playing phone tag since, Carisi trying him quickly in the car on the way to her doctor's appointment. 

Which is how Rafael Barba becomes the first person to find out they're having a girl. 

They're walking out of the appointment and back to where the car's parked, both doing that thing she's sort of maybe idly fantasized about, where they say what they got was what they secretly wanted all along –

– when his phone starts buzzing. 

"It's Barba," he says, pulling it from his pocket. "I'll – I'll call him back."

"No, just take it, you guys keep missing each other," she says. 

Sonny shakes his head, looping his free arm around Amanda's waist to draw her to the side of the walkway, before resting his hand on her belly, thumb stroking softly. 

It's sweet, but – this is his – his lawyer-rabbi, did they have those? – they'll have plenty of time to celebrate. 

She snags the phone out of his hand and dances away, connecting the call, before handing it back. 

"Hey, Barba," Sonny says, giving her a look, but there's no teeth behind it, and she pulls him by the hand back into foot traffic. 

As they reach the car, Sonny wraps it up, thanking Barba again and promising to text him. 

"Yeah, listen, same to you, I gotta go, my girls need me," he says, light-heartedly, and Amanda feels herself lean on the hood of the car, because that – that was a lot. 

His girls. 

"Oh, uh, yeah," she hears him say, and glances up to see him looking sheepish. "Just found out today actually, we're, uh, we're having a girl."

She raises her eyebrows and he shrugs, and then adds. "For now, 'til they tell us different."

"Thanks, man, talk soon," Carisi says, ending the call and slipping his phone back in his pocket. 

"Uh. Sorry."

She laughs. "'It's okay, we better tell Liv though, if she finds out from him, we'll never hear the end of it."

Sonny reaches into his jacket, pulling out the strip of ultrasounds. 

"We could just…text this around?" he says, and shrugs. "Feels a little weird to make a big thing over it."

She'd told her mom a few weeks back, and though she hadn't heard from her dad, she's sure it made its way to him, too, so sending this as a text suited her just fine. 

"Works for me," she says.

Sonny lays the ultrasound strip against the hood of the car, and then shakes his head, repositioning it on the slight, but definitely-there swell of Amanda's stomach. 

He takes a couple pictures, then turns the phone so she can see. 

Looks good to her – one image centered and clear enough to see the small arrow and the words It's a Girl! printed next to it. 

He airdrops it to her and they spend a couple minutes composing texts to the people that'd want to know, Amanda sending to Fin, Liv, and – at the last second, Stone – on a group chat with Carisi. 

He hearts it immediately, the dweeb.  

"I can't do it – I can't tell my mother this over a text message," he says, still staring at his phone. "We should probably go back up there, she wants to meet Jesse. I, uh, told her about the dad thing." 

(It's amazing how quickly the word dad had started to look like Carisi in her head, the way it slipped off her tongue when she was talking to Jesse, telling her to go ask him something, stuff like that.) 

He turns his head to look at her, giving her a little smile, before he moves to slide into the driver's seat. "She said she could tell, but it was nice to hear, which is typical of my mother."

Amanda ducks into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind her, and they pick up the thread of conversation as Carisi maneuvers into traffic. 

"So, can we do this on a weeknight? I've gotta go way downtown to do my glucose test in a couple weeks – "

"Uh, yeah, I think this is more of a – Sunday dinner thing? With the firing squad?" he says, glancing at her, as he finishes a lane change. 

"Oh."

"Yeah."

&&. 

"Carisi, look," Amanda says, arms raised at her side and hands pointed at the navy blue fabric wrapped around her legs. "I got in your pants – literally."

He glances up from the Sudoku he's playing on his phone, and breathes out a little laugh when he sees her.

She's got on a pair of his chinos, rolled up a few times at the ankle, and bagging just slightly in the thighs, but they – she'd looked in the mirror, they look cute, and she's wearing them. 

Because all of her pants are either too tight or look stupid. 

Everything looks stupid lately, her body is some weird, blobby shape and her boobs are getting huge and nothing fits and she's hot all the time and even these are a little tight, she'll maybe get a week out of this discovery, and if FedEx would stop holding her maternity pants hostage –

"You about ready to go?" Sonny says, and she hears a pounding in her head.

"What?" she says, and she sees Jesse glance at her and snap immediately back to her Legos, but Carisi just plows ahead. 

"We should get on the road – "

"Oh, so it's my fault we're gonna be late?"

"What – ? No. No, no, no," and she swears she sees him glance at Jesse in betrayal. 

He stands from the couch, crossing to meet her where she stands near the kitchen island. 

"There might be traffic is all," he says, lightly. 

And she knows how she's being – feels ornery right down to her ever-swelling ankles, and she tries to muscle it down, coming up with – 

"Fine, let's go."

She grabs her bag, and the one full of stuff to keep Jesse entertained, including the iPad they'll let her have for the drive down, and huffs to the hallway to the door, looking at him expectantly when he lingers. 

"C'mon, clock's ticking," she says, glancing at her watch without even checking the time. 

His gaze darts to Jesse, still shoveling her Legos back into the bin, and, looking spooked, he swoops down to pick her up, and hustles to meet Amanda. 

They walk to the car in what Amanda can tell is a tense silence, but she can't figure out how to break out of it – if she speaks, she can't promise it won't be to snap, picturing her insides all twisted and black.

She slides into her seat, letting Sonny buckle Jesse into her carseat, and barely glancing at him when he slip into the driver's side. 

The engine starts and his phone immediately connects to the audio system, playing the Pixies playlist she'd heard him listening to in the shower that morning, the opening lines of U-Mass filling the car, as Sonny pulls them onto the road. 

They drive in silence for a while, Jesse happily connected to her iPad and Amanda staring out the window. 

The version of Wave of Mutilation she likes least – because, living with Sonny, she now has a preference (and it is not the same as his) – ends as they pull up to a light, and she waits for another song to begin, glancing at Sonny when it doesn't.

He's tapping at the steering wheel, finishing just as the light changes, and the tinny sound of a trumpet or something warbles from the speakers – 

What the hell is this?

– before it changes to a series of breathy beats, and then –

Whatcha gonna do with all that junk
All that junk inside your trunk? 

She makes it to the very first my hump and breaks, laughing quietly to herself before turning to look at him.

"That was pretty good," she says.

"Yeah? Felt like a gamble," he says, and their really is a little bit of relief on his face. 

"Paid off."

"Look, Rollins, whatever I did, I'm sorry – "

She waves him off. "I think it was just getting me pregnant."

"Ah, right," he says, eyebrows bouncing in understanding. "Not so sorry for that."

His hands moves to rub lightly against her stomach, something he's been doing with increasing frequency, the kid's kicks are strong enough that he should be able to feel them from the outside now, they just haven't gotten the timing right –

Until now. 

She feels it only a split second before Sonny does, the foot stretching out to press against her stomach, right where Sonny's hand is, and he stills, eyes darting back and forth from the road, like he's torn where to look. 

"You felt it?" she says, excited, when the foot recedes. 

"I did," he says, and rubs his thumb across her stomach, a little bit awestruck. "That was – she's really in there, huh?"

"Oh, she's in there all right," Amanda says, settling her hand on her stomach when Sonny pulls his away. 

He talks to their daughter all the time, or, well, both of them, but the one in utero had yet to speak back, and he looks so happy that she finally has. 

She sends a little mental kudos down to the kid on her kick timing as My Humps continues in the background. 

"I can't believe this song was playing for that," Sonny says, scrubbing a hand down his face, as she laughs. 

He taps at the steering wall, toggling back to his Pixies playlist. 

(A big, big love.)

&&. 

"Nonna," Jesse repeats, when they're standing in the Carisi's foyer a little while later.

"That's right, Jesse," Mrs. Carisi says. "You can call me Nonna."

Across the rug from her, Sonny is beaming, and she's glad they'd gotten on the road when they had, beating the rest of his family and allowing them all this small, meaningful moment. 

And then Mrs. Carisi claps her hands, and Amanda swears she sees Sonny literally snap to attention.

"All right, Jesse, Amanda, you can come help with the cookies – Dominick, your father's outside, go see if he needs a hand." 

Both Carisis exit the room then, in opposite directions, Sonny back out the front door, and Mrs. Carisi toward the kitchen – where Amanda hustles Jesse to follow. 

Over the next half an hour, the rest of the family trickles in, and she has to meet more than a few of them without Sonny, which feels like a trial by fire, but Jesse runs great interference. 

And, not for nothing, serves as proof that Amanda is not, like, totally unskilled at raising a baby, Jesse even remembers her manners, and seems to especially like Mia, so this seems like it's all going all right. 

Sonny rejoins them with his dad, and the whole house feels like it's filled with voices and laughter and noise  – with warmth, and people who love each other. 

And, like, a lot of good food smells. 

This is – this is her kids' grandparents' house. 

This is what they'll picture when they think of that, and though there's still some tiny part of her that longs for it with her own family, too, she can't believe she gets to have this. 

When dinner is served, Mrs. Carisi tells Sonny to say grace, something she's never heard him do before, and just as he finishes, and everyone moves for their silverware, Sonny's dad raises a hand from the head of the table, calling for attention over the clamor that's started up. 

"All right, all right, knock it off – I said knock it off," Mr. Carisi says, accent thick and voice rising near the end as he scolds his (adult) children. "Your brother and his family have an announcement."

Amanda's face goes warm with his phrasing and then Sonny's glancing down at her, past where Jesse sits between them. 

"Yeah, uh, thanks, Pop," Sonny says, and she wishes she could his hand or something, but holds Jesse's instead. "So – we're having a girl."

The table riots to life, congratulations and more noise and it's overwhelming, in a mostly good way, but Amanda is also pregnant – and hungry. 

She's trying to be polite, but no one else is eating yet, and –

She accidentally meets Mr. Carisi's eye, and before she can stop herself – maybe she sees something of Sonny there – she gives him a pleading look. 

He looks at her for a short moment, and then – he winks. 

That looks so much like Sonny that it takes her by surprise, a feeling that's amplified by Mr. Carisi's voice suddenly booming over the others. 

"All right, your mother worked hard on this dinner and we're gonna eat it while it's hot," he says, turning to look at Amanda and Jesse. "Ladies – and I mean all three of you now – the baby, not you, Sonny – welcome to the family. For the sake of his mother, consider marrying the boy." 

"Pop," Sonny says, giving him a look. "C'mon."

But his dad ignores them, tipping his beer – the one Sonny had dutifully fetched for him earlier – toward them before taking a sip. 

&&. 

It takes her another three weeks to work up the nerve to say something, right into the start of the third trimester, which has begun with, uh – all right, look, she's turned on a lot, so they're naked when she does it. 

Lying next to him – or more sort of diagonal, because she doesn't have the energy to get her head on a pillow – he's idly tracing a pattern on her stomach, dancing his fingers around trying to get their daughter to move. 

Despite her parents' activities a few minutes ago, she seems asleep. 

His hand on her stomach slows, fanning out to palm it like a basketball, and she looks at his fingers – his ring finger. 

"Is it a problem we're not married?"

He lolls his head on the pillow to look at her, his hair mussed and his face relaxed, and he widens his eyes and blinks a few times, clearly trying to catch up. 

"Come again, Rollins?"

"Nah, two's good for now," she makes the joke he'd left wide open.

"Bah-dum, tss," Carisi lazily provides the rimshot they both deserve.

"But I mean – for your parents? For…Catholicism?"

His expression changes, growing a little clearer. "You wanna talk about this now?"

She shrugs, finally getting the energy to scoot herself up to the pillow, and turning to face him once she does. 

"So it is a problem?"

"Nah, not really – listen, it's fine, don't worry about it," Sonny says. "Everything in our own time."

"Or, you know, not, I guess, too," he adds, his delivery on that part just…a little sad, but she can tell he's trying to cover for it. 

"In our own time," she says, reassuring him in a way that feels safe for her, too, giving herself a second to register that she wasn't, like, abnormally panicked. 

(Now she's definitely winning therapy.)

"And if your parents bring it up again?" she asks, what she hopes sounds innocently, but she wants to both be able to navigate it the right way, and also, not to have to. 

"They won't," he says, tilting his head from side to side, like he's sore or has a kink in his neck. 

She knows what it's from and mugs at him, exaggeratedly stretching her jaw, like she needs to pop it. 

He eyes her, a little bit of swagger in his expression, and he's so cute she almost lets it by but – 

"Did you say something to them?"

He freezes and she knows she's hit. 

"Not – not exactly," he says. "I, uh, I took the ring."

"What does that mean? Is that an oath? It's a celibacy thing, right?"

He gives her an exasperated look, before helping her tug a pillow between her knees. 

"If it was, clearly I've broken it," he says, sweeping a hand through the air and gesturing down both of their naked bodies. 

She gets a little distracted by a few freckles on his chest, the skin that always looks tan next to hers, and the little bit of hair, and his ribs – and, fuck, this trimester is brutal, she has got to settle down. 

(She feels weird talking to the kid about that one directly, but, uh, she sends a vibe.)

"It's a real ring – a family ring," he says.

Oh. 

"Oh."

"Yeah," he says. "So, uh, you don't have to have that one or anything, I'll get you – whatever you – if you want, someday, but it'll, you know, buy us some time with them."

"Did you ask for it or did they offer?" she asks, suddenly curious, and in absolute disbelief over the ease with which she is having this conversation.  

(Therapy Won: ✓)

"It was a – mutual thing," he says, and she understands what he means. "And also, uh, how I said I would buy you, like I said, whatever you want, but also, maybe you wear the other one to Sunday dinner and just never tell my mother? We – we can figure it out."

He blows out a breath that tickles the tip of her nose. 

"Yeah," she says, and rolls back onto her back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning her head on the pillow to look at him again. 

"My ring size is 6. For, you know, later."

&&. 

The part of the apartment that will be the nursery is really more of a nook between the two bedrooms, and it is currently blocked by a rainbow of gift bags and boxes, surrounding the crib Sonny had put together a few nights ago. 

(There's a nine minute long video on her phone, just him and Jesse navigating the crib instructions, Jesse banging Mickey Mouse tools while Carisi grew more Italian by the second, suspenders hanging from his trousers and his undershirt dotted with staticky, shredded packing peanuts.)

"We gonna unpack that?" Carisi says, tipping his head down the hall from where they're standing near the fridge, trying to get the other one to be the first to suggest just getting something delivered for dinner. 

"We probably should," she says. 

The powers that be have Carisi shadowing Stone on a lot of the cases he's not working, and working the cases he is working, and she's become the department paperwork grunt, plus Jesse's started playing soccer, and Amanda's also, you know, growing a human being. 

So, the bags and boxes, despite how much she loved their friends (and his family) for bringing them to the surprise shower last weekend, just – stayed packed. 

They have exactly 10 days until their new daughter is set to make her entrance and she's been dealing with faint contractions all day, and, oh, fuck it, she's just gonna say it.

"But first – we should get dinner delivered."

They settle on a pizza because it'll require the least amount of effort with Jesse, and Amanda collapses next to Sonny on the couch to wait for it to be delivered, pulling her shirt up to watch a contraction tighten her stomach. 

"That's so cool," Sonny says. 

"That one didn't feel very cool," she says, and she sees the look Sonny gives her, and waves him off. "Trust me, they get worse."

Sonny looks a little uneasy, and she's not sure at which part, so she tries to distract him.

"So, what are we gonna name this kid?" she says, lolling her head on the back of the couch toward him. 

They've had this discussion a thousand times, and she's not expecting an answer tonight, but it'll keep his mind off her false contractions until the pizza gets here. 

"You always call her that – kid," Sonny says, absent-mindedly.  

"You know I've tried to think of her other ways? I just keep coming back to that one, she must like it."

"All right," Sonny says. "Can we use that? Like, inspiration?"

"You wanna name her Kid?"

He gives her a look. "We moving to Brooklyn? No, I mean, like – an outlaw, like Jesse James and – "

"Billy the Kid," they say in unison. 

Billie the Kid. 

Billie. 

&&.

Billie decides it's time to stage her arrival six hours later. 

At 1 a.m., Amanda wakes Carisi, and by 2, Jesse is at Liv's, and Amanda has puked in the parking lot of a hospital she has to visit all the time for work. 

"I revisited my pizza out there," she warns the nurse, as Sonny's wheeling her to the labor and delivery ward, and she'd seen him not quite flash his badge, but not quite not, before anyone could insist they'd push her instead. 

"Don't worry, it happens – did Dad lose his, too?" the nurse thumbs at Carisi. "That also happens a lot."

"No, I, uh, I'm good," Sonny says and he glances down at Amanda as they slow to a stop, and repeats it, "I'm good."

He looks – clear-eyed and sincere, and he stays that way for a while, until they bring out the needle for the epidural they're not sure is going to fully take (but that she'd insisted on anyway), and then he looks concerned and sincere. 

She curls into his torso, like they tell them to stand, as they administer it, and it hurts, but not as bad as the contractions she's been barely muscling through (or being shot), so she feels like she's earned Sonny's awed look when he shifts back. 

"Pretty tough, Rollins," he says, lightly, but she hears his whole heart in his throat. 

Things smooth out a bit once the epidural kicks in, and she's able to sort of – marvel at how life works. How he'd been here the first time, too.

His hair is better now. 

And they – they're in love. 

At 8:26 a.m., Amanda is the thirstiest she has ever been in her life, fantasizing about all the juice she's gonna drink when this is over.

At 8:46 a.m., Billie Mabel Rollins enters the world.

&&.

Seeing Sonny across the room, holding Billie for the first time, is in a few-way tie for the best moment of her life. 

Right alongside a few minutes prior, when they'd pulled her out screaming and gotten her pressed to Amanda's chest. 

And the same moment for Jesse. 

And her calling Sonny dad, which – 

The way he's looking at Billie, it's like he's communicating with her, a soft, little smile on his lips. 

Dad. 

Their dad. 

He's in track bottoms, with a gray hoodie thrown over a Fordham Law shirt, pajamas he hadn't bothered to change, too focused on getting Amanda to the hospital.

And he – he looks so much different than when he's at work, so much different than the guy she'd first met. 

Like he's at home.

Like here in the hospital, holding their daughter, he's home. 

(And then someone sews part of her vagina back together.)

&&. 

It's been mostly like that the whole time – intense, overwhelming love and emotion and gratitude, matched with just some truly humbling indiginities. 

She remembers a lot of this, but had done so much of it alone that it clearly hadn't occurred to her how awkward some of it was, but Carisi takes it all in stride. 

There are the ice packs in stretchy mesh granny underwear – which feel amazing. 

The first time she peed – which felt so weird. 

Nurses in and out at all hours – which felt, feels, and would continue to be exhausting. 

And then there's – 

The way Sonny's hands look so huge changing such a small diaper, holding such a small person. 

The little forehead wrinkles Billie has and the dimple and the bright blue of her wide eyes. 

Jesse proclaiming, "I – love her," in front of the only people in the world she'd want to hear it.

There's – her family. 

&&. 

("How'd you and Uncle Dom actually get together?" Mia asks her, as Amanda'a sitting in a beauty queen sash covered in paintball streaks – the remains of her bachelorette party. 

They were the last two left standing, sipping champagne on a couch in the most expensive hotel room Amanda's been in that wasn't a crime scene. 

"You already know that story, we were friends and it just – happened," Amanda says. 

"I know that's what you tell Nonna," Mia says, and Amanda's grateful again at the ally Mia has grown into at Carisi family gatherings. She's someone Amanda considers one of her closest friends at this point – the younger sister she, well – a younger sister. 

"But I wasn't sure he was ever gonna make a move – so it must've been you, right?"

"Not – not really. Mia, trust me – just, you don't wanna know."

"Oh, so there is something good? I knew it. Come on, you can tell me."

"Fine," Amanda relents. "I'll tell you the PG version."

Mia tips her champagne and takes a sip before leaning forward to listen. 

"So your Uncle Dom got his hand down my pants on a stakeout –"

&&. –