He stepped to her again, laid his lips on her brow. "But I want children with you, my lovely Eve. One day.""One day being far, far in the future. Like, I don't know, say a decade when...Hold on. Children is plural."He eased back, grinned. "Why, so it is--nothing slips by my canny cop.""You really think if I ever actually let you plant something in me--they're like aliens in there, growing little hands and feet." She shuddered. "Creepy. If I ever did that, popped a kid out--which I think is probably as pleasant a process as having your eyeballs pierced by burning, poisonous sticks, I'd say, 'Whoopee, let's do this again?' Have you recently suffered head trauma?""Not to my knowledge.""Could be coming. Any second.
J.D. Robb, Survivor In Death
children, eve-dallas, roarke