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"This is not supposed to be happening," said Dr Megan Hunt, looking

down at the little stick in her hand, annoyed.

Huffing irritabley, she looked up to find part of the problem standing

in the doorway. She raised the pregnancy test at him accusingly. "I've

already stuffed up one go at being a parent. Why the hell would I want

to go around again?"

Tommy Sullivan eased into the room, his face intentionally blank. "So?" he asked.

"So?" Megan responded - almost screeching. She winced at the high

pitch. Moderating her tone, she spoke again. "That's all you have to

say?"

"It's more of a question about what you plan to do," he posed carefully.

Suddenly feeling tired, she fell into a seat. "I'm going to keep it of

course, but God knows what this time around is going to be like."

Resting one hand on her stomach and propping her head up with the

other, she was startled to find him standing in front of her. She

watched as he crouched down in front of her, bracing himself on the

arms of her chair.

"I've got your back."

Feeling strangely sentimental - blame it on the hormones - she reached

out to clasp his cheek.

Words seemed to fail her before she finally spoke. "Thank you," she

managed in a wobbly tone.

She didn't object when he stood up and leaned down to press a kiss to

her lips. Her eyes were shiny when they parted. He was about to speak

before she beat him to it.

"Gods, what do I tell Lacey?" Standing up and pushing past him, she

began to pace. Stopping, she ran her hand across the her forehead, one

hand propped on her hip.

Leaning back against the table, Tommy struggled to remain attentive,

as that particular pose pulled her shirt tight back against her form,

and he could see where she was already beginning to fill out.

"'Hi Lacey. It's your mother. How do you feel about being a big sister

in about, oh, five months or so?'" said Megan bitterly. "God, this is

twisted."

He'd had enough. Making his way over, he'd been planning to snap her

out of her funk, but as he neared her, the vulnerability in her eyes

stopped him. Gripping her shoulders instead, their gaze locked. "Now

listen to me Dr Megan Hunt," he ordered. For once she had no smart

remark to shoot back. "It is all going to be okay."

"Easy for you to say," she retorted, but it was a tired response, and

without malice.

He moved to tug her into his arms, but a sound at the door interrupted

them. "Ahem?" asked Curtis.

He watched as the woman carrying his child stepped back from him and

was composed in seconds. "Yes Doctor?"

"The results are back."

Watching her form leave the room, he moved to the door himself.

Clasping the deputy on the shoulder, he shook his head. "You have

awful timing man."

The heavy set man threw up his arms. "What?"


"You're pregnant?!" asked Lacey incredulously.

"Yeah," replied Megan uncertainly, unsure how her daughter felt about this.

"Aren't you too old?"

"Oi," she protested, and was gratified when they shared a brief second

of mutual amusement - their relationship had progressed to that stage.

"Oh."

Wondering at the teen's strange expression, she reached out to clasp

her hand. "What is it?"

Lacey flushed. "Well it means that you know, you, um... you know."

It was Megan's turn to laugh. "Good to know you've been taught about

the birds and the bees."

Lacey was torn between revulsion and humiliation. "Ah yeah, moving

on." She looked her mother over critically. "How long before you're

due?"

"Christmas Eve," replied Megan ruefully.

"Oh, that sucks," said Lacey, already feeling sympathy for her unborn

half-sibling.

"Mm."

Conversation carried on in a similar manner before Megan had to ask

the question that hadn't been asked yet. "Aren't you interested in who

the baby's father is?"

"Oh please," snorted Lacey. "It's Tommy." She laughed at her mother's

shock. "Who else would it be?"

"I don't know if I that's a compliment or an insult," replied Megan faintly.

Lacey grimaced. "Going to be hard looking him in the eyes now though."

She shuddered.

Megan turned serious for a moment. "Lacey?" she asked, looking into

her eyes. "Are you okay with this?"

Lacey rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm fine mum."

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, she pressed a kiss to her daughter's

hair. "I'm so proud of you."

"Yes mum," said Lacey with another roll of her eyes.

Their laughter sounded down the street.


Hunter Sullivan did not arrive on his due date, instead announcing his

intention to arrive at breakfast Christmas morning, finally arriving

later that night in the dying minutes of Christmas Day.

Megan's ex-husband was not impressed that their daughter chose to

spend the holiday at the hospital waiting for the baby to arrive, but

Megan was beyond caring, happily yelling insults to people left, right

and centre by that time.

In the wee hours of Boxing Day, Lacey sat on the edge of the bed,

looking at her baby brother. "He's going to get so ripped off when it

comes to presents ever year."

Megan reached out to clasp her daughter's cheek. "Well, we'll just

have to make sure that doesn't happen, hm?"

Their moment ended when an exhausted Tommy stepped into the room. "Hey

kiddo, you ready to go?"

"Yeah." Lacey leaned down to kiss her mother before gently kissing the

little baby in her arms. Standing in the doorway, she turned back.

"I'll be back tomorrow - no, in a few hours," she promised.

Megan just smiled. She briefly turned her gaze to her partner,

exchanging a look before two of the most important people in her life

left the room.

Turning to the other one, she found the baby sleeping in her arms.

"Well," she said diplomatically. "We're off to a great start."

When Tommy returned an hour later, he paused in the doorway at the

sight: Megan was guiding the baby - their son - to feed. Hunter

nuffled around blindly before his little mouth latched on to his

mother's nipple and he nursed.

He was startled when she spoke. "Do you plan on lurking in the doorway

or actually coming in?"

He stepped in. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he positioned himself close.

Megan was within kissing distance, and so when she turned her face, he

did just that.

"Merry Christmas," she said softly when they parted.

He tore his gaze from hers to look at the miracle in her arms. Running

a finger over the soft hair, he spoke in a soft tone himself.

"Merry Christmas."


Finito.