AMMUNITION

Christmas, family sequel to Bite the Bullet, by popular demand. In which they have been wonderful, but we wouldn't be in their world if things were completely perfect.

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me.

You don't really need to have read Bite the Bullet, or remember what happened. Harry's mother died suddenly of cancer, catalysing Harry's honesty and bringing the Harry and Nikki suddenly and quickly together.

This is Christmas, five years later.

"We can stop, Nikki…. We can stop trying… you're suffering, and we have Annie…"

But she can't, because that's not who she is, and they'd always said from day one that they didn't want Annie to be on her own. Annie had been born just under a year after the their wedding, four years ago now, and they'd said from the start that they'd both suffered growing up alone, they both wanted something else for the little gem they'd suddenly and unexpectedly produced, almost by accident.

The day she entered the world, Annie was six pounds, four ounces of dark hair and blue eyes and a slightly confused expression, as if almost bewildered by everything going on around her, and although they hadn't talked about it, it seemed Harry's late mother's name had always been the one that was going to fit her, and very little was said about it.

They say every mother says it, it's a cliché, but from the first moment she held Annie in her arms, she was the best thing that had ever happened in Nikki's life. And the best thing that was ever going to happen, until they had another one, and that was going to be a repeat, a second priceless moment.

Neither of them had thought at the beginning that having difficulty having another one was going to be their problem. It was one of those things that happened to people; it happened to people completely separate to you, something you gave a sad nod and sympathised with, but not something that happened to you. It had rendered both of them speechless for moments when the fertility doctor had first mentioned that it might be some sort of medical problem, he'd want to run more tests. They hadn't even considered it.

They'd had every conceivable test, and numerous medical specialists had said something to them about statistical improbabilities and a hostile environment for a developing foetus, but despite all their medical knowledge and understanding, in theory, of the topic, it suddenly all sounded like a foreign language. Because Annie hadn't even been planned, it didn't make any sense that another Annie was going to be an impossibility.

They'd tried everything you were supposed to try, IVF, insemination, fertility drugs, and they'd even considered a surrogate, but they'd been about to implant in the girl when she'd gotten pregnant of her own accord and accepted a sudden marriage proposal. And in the last week their doctor had been on the phone about Nikki having a limited number of eggs left, and there were some drugs they could put her on, but there was every possibility of unwanted side effects. And that that was really their last option, and there wasn't really anywhere they could go after that.

And of course, because he was Harry, and because he'd seen what the drugs had already been doing to his wife, and how emotional they were both getting surrounding it all, Harry had said that maybe it was time they should stop. But that wasn't who she was; she wasn't the sort of person that liked there to be anything she couldn't do, so she wouldn't hear anything of it. She didn't like there to be a single thing in the world that was completely impossible.

So here they were, two weeks before Christmas, in the living room of the old house that had once been Harry's mother's, and this was exactly how he'd imagined it, what had driven him to finally confess his feelings to Nikki for the first time in the weeks after his mother died, the two of them being a real family in this room; Annie skipping around in a combination of Christmas appropriate reds and greens, with a little Santa hat sporting a tinkling bell on her head.

He takes a moment to pause there, just a moment to think about not what he's wishing for, not the seeming improbability, but what he's grateful for. Nikki, lifting Annie to place the angel atop their red and gold Christmas tree; they're the most of it. And for just a moment then, despite all the wishing and hoping they've been doing, he's got everything he needs.

Annie squeals with delight and claps her hands as the angel sits atop the tree, because to a three year old, that's the preparation for Christmas complete. Everything after that, as far as she's concerned, is Santa's doing, and they're fully prepared. Harry smiles, because nothing at Christmas is as magical as the belief of the young, the absolute faith that everything will fall into place with minimal effort. Nikki sets her daughter down and Annie continues to play with the stuffed Christmas animals at the bottom of the tree, and then walks slowly over to her husband. It's been just over four years now, but she doesn't think that's going to stop sounding strange.

Harry had proposed fairly quickly, in the end, they'd been together around six months, and all of a sudden he'd been down on one knee in the cutting room – of all the places – and there hadn't been any answer other than yes, it almost seemed strange that he'd made it a question. They'd hurried about arranging a wedding as well, they'd both decided it was a Christmas wedding they'd wanted, and it didn't seem like she'd had time to blink before she was walking down an aisle in a long white dress won Leo's arm and everything in her life seemed to be coming together. After everything that had gone wrong, it seemed like suddenly everything was fitting together like the pieces of a puzzle.

And then there'd been Annie, and suddenly life hadn't been just about the two of them anymore, it had been about the three of them.

She leans her head on his shoulder, and they both affectionately watch their daughter have an animated conversation with a stuffed reindeer.

"I love you." He breathes, and no matter how many times he's said it to her, her heart speeds up a little and she presses her lips to his jaw. "This is wonderful."

It is, really. And suddenly it's all she needs.

"This is perfect, Harry..." Nikki smiles slightly, tears in her eyes, but not the bad kind, not the kind he's been seeing far too much of in the last months. "We…we should keep trying, just the natural way, on those last few eggs I've got, but if we're not lucky… if we're not supposed to have another one... that's going to be alright. Because I've got Annie, and I've got you... and I'm going to be alright."

He nods, slowly, pressing his face into her hair. Because they're going to get through this, too.

Max Alexander Cunningham is born a little over ten months later.

Hope you liked! Any other time of year, the end would make my skin crawl, but I'm so festive, consider it Christmas fluff!