"If I hadn't checked your perimeter just then, at least one tire would be flat." Edward Townsend chided as agent Abigail Morgan sent the Aston Martin into a spin, barely missing a motion detector.

"Criticize my driving, but you're the one that can't stay on the right side of the road," she ground out. He shook his head and braced himself as they drifted around a tight corner on the small estate road. "Besides, I didn't see you being very careful when you kicked the dog's water bowl over." She smirked.

"Those stupid animals were not in the house plan!" She just laughed and smiled as she shifted into fourth gear. She loved to fluster her husband. "Deer!"

"I see it." She yanked the wheel hard to the left and the car shot across the road, brushing the dirt bank on the other side and knocking leaves and twigs onto the windshield.

"You know, you're very carefully lowering this car's value by the minute."

"But we're still alive. No thanks to you and your big feet."

"It wasn't in the plan!" he cried again. "Up ahead. The gate is closed."

"The car can get through." She stated, waiting for him to confirm her theory.

"Probably. I'd get up to at least fifty to clear it." He advised. She nodded quickly and shifted into fifth gear, catching a slight bit of air over a picturesque bridge. "The Jaguar is parked in a driveway a mile up the road."

"The plates are new, right?"

"They're not recognizable from anything else if that's what you mean."

"Brace yourself." She ordered, then floored the gas pedal as the car burst through the sturdy metal gate at the front of the winding road. Alarms were sounding all over the property at this point. Abby hung a quick right, grimacing as a piece of the car's front bumper fell off on the road. "This job gets hard when you have to destroy such beautiful cars."

"Up there." He pointed to an almost undetectable mailbox. "About a mile up this driveway is the car. The driveway comes out on the other side of the hill." She yanked the wheel again and the car shot up the gravel, wheels spinning viciously. "Bloody hell, woman. You're ruining our quickest way to the Jag."

"We flipped for it fair and square. I won the drive tonight. You drive the Jag and I won't question you."

"We both know you'll question my driving until you can't breathe."

"Am I that predictable?" she teased.

"So predictable I almost wonder how you're still a spy." He flirted and she reached across the stick to punch him. He feigned hurt but still chuckled. The headlights caught the taillights of the Jag up ahead and Abby pulled the car to a stop in some bushes. They cleared the car and hurried to the Jag, switching roles as Townsend took the wheel. The engine roared to life and they were off, the road starting to slope down back toward the highway.

"Ready?"

"Do it." The car exploded behind them, the only evidence the bright flash as they turned onto the highway and headed toward the city.

"You really could take these corners a little easier when no one's on our tail," Abby frowned gripping the handle above the window for support.

"Better safe than sorry," he stole a glance at her. "What's wrong?"

"Carsick I think," she answered quickly.

"I didn't know you get carsick." He eased the car around the next corner with more care.

"I don't," she shrugged, then grimaced. "When are we getting there?"

"Florence is only twenty minutes away. At four in the morning, traffic shouldn't be a problem," he responded. He looked at her again. "Abbs?"

"Pull over," she snapped. He stepped on the brakes as she threw herself out of the car and heaved into the bushes. Whatever dinner she had had the night before, she now lost. Townsend appeared behind her and handed her a tissue. She took it with a quiet 'thanks' and stood upright and let him lead her back to the car.

"We have to keep moving," Townsend watched her buckle her seatbelt. "I'm sorry, but we have a flight to catch."

"Don't apologize. I'm fine." She pushed a few stray strands of her hair out of her face. Her usually-sleek ponytail was slowly coming apart. "Burn rubber."

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"What are you doing here?" Abby looked up from her bed at the figure in her doorway.

"Townsend told me you weren't feeling well. And I don't have another class until the evening." Cammie Morgan flopped down at the end of the bed and let out a sigh. "So what's really wrong, Aunt Abby? You're never sick."

"Well, I've never felt like this, that's for sure."

"You should go to the doctor."

"No time for doctors. I'm resting up so I can help out with another mission tonight." She propped herself up on her elbows. "And you won't be telling your mom about this." She added before Cammie could say anything.

"You look…sick." Cammie said, staring at her aunt.

"I am sick, Squirt." Abby looked at Cammie like she was slightly crazy, something Cammie was used to.

"You look kind of like Macey when she's on her period." Cammie winced and stood up. "Can I cook you something? Toast, maybe? That's easier on the stomach." But Abby didn't respond. Cammie turned around the see her aunt sitting up in bed, staring at the far wall, a look forming on her face that Cammie hadn't seen before. "What is it?" Cammie froze in the doorway.

"It could be nothing." Abby mumbled to herself. "It's nothing."

"What's nothing?"

"Cam, don't-"

"It's the Circle, isn't it? Something bad happened. Is it Mom? Joe?"

"Cam, stop. It's nothing to do with work. This is personal. Very personal." Abby pushed the covers back and stood slowly.

"Oh. In that case I…" Cammie's voice faded off as she followed Abby's gaze. It stopped on her stomach. And even though both of them were certified geniuses, the only thing they could do was stare at each other, mouths open. "Uh…" Cammie blinked.

"Tell me I'm crazy, Cam." Abby pleaded.

"I didn't even know you wanted kids." Cammie stuttered.

"I didn't really. Until he…" Abby thought back to the conversation she and her husband had had a year earlier. When he had admitted to her that kids were on his radar, her kids. "Come on Abbs," he had said, "we dissolved terrorist cells, we can manage a few kids." And she had fallen in love with him all over again. But she had assumed that they would have to be very purposeful when they wanted kids. Spies didn't have kids unless it was planned to the very second. That's what happens when you're taught to be prepared. Kids can be a very chaotic endeavor and spies don't do chaotic. So Abby had been expecting some sort of game plan.

"Aunt Abby?" Cammie was waiting for her aunt to say something.

"I'm not even sure of anything yet, Squirt." Abby forced a smile. "Maybe I'm just going crazy." Cammie didn't looked convinced.

"You'll tell me when you know for sure?" Cammie asked as she let herself out.

"It's probably nothing."

"Then I want to know if it's nothing."

"Fine, Cam, yes, I'll tell you when I know something."

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Turns out something was five positive pregnancy tests on her bathroom counter a few hours later.

"Babe?" Townsend's voice echoed through the flat.

"I'm ready." Abby came out of the bedroom dressed to rappel down the capitol building. Her husband however, was wearing jeans and a light gray t-shirt. "What are you wearing? That's awfully underdressed for you."

"Why are you dressed for a mission? You're sick."

"I'm better. I can go." Abby stepped forward.

"No need." Townsend shook his head and put his hands on her shoulders. "I gave it to Cameron and Zach. Cameron thought you needed more time to recover and I wanted to be here in case you needed me."

"That was…thoughtful of you." Abby admitted.

"Cameron also said you had something you wanted to talk to me about." Abby cursed under breath. The little brat.

"Actually yes, I do." She decided to play it cool. It would be ok. "Wait here." She left him in the living room with a view over the Philadelphia night lights. She returned with tests in hand. "Sit down." She instructed, not sure how squeamish he would be about the idea of a baby coming out of her. He sat on the sofa and watched as she spread the tests out on the coffee table in front of him.

"Why did you take these?" he asked, his voice tight.

"Morning sickness. Not carsick. My period is a month late." She watched him pick up one of the tests.

"You were certainly thorough."

"I wanted to be certain."

"I know you were unsure about kids. How are you feeling?" he wondered looking across the table at her. His blue eyes studied her.

"That depends on what you think." She admitted bashfully. She watched the corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk. Then a full smile.

"You knew this is what I wanted, Abbs."

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Two Months Later

"She doesn't want to know the gender." Townsend rolled his eyes as the doctor watched the screen.

"And neither does he." Abby kicked him and he cursed lightly.

"Alright well that's fine. For financial reasons though I feel you might like to know the number." The doctor looked at Abby.

"Number?" Townsend's brows drew together.

"Lucky number two. Twins," the doctor smiled. Abby's mouth hung open.

"You put two in me?" she cried.

"What can I say, I was raised to be thorough." Townsend smirked. Wrong answer. She lunged off the table toward him and only because there was a witness did she spare his life.