Chapter 1
Well isn't this exciting then? Massive cliffy that everyone now takes for granted but hey… I made my own ones as well didn't I Hope you enjoy the new story, I've finally gotten onto season two and I would like to thank absolutely everyone for reviewing my past fics… you guys give me creative wings, thanks so much.
Charlie POV:
The room was silent, the frigid air thick with apprehension as the four stared down at the coats. Charlie felt her mouth go dry and closed her eyes, waiting for the small pop. Nothing happened. In confusion she opened her eyes and then jumped about half a foot into the air as most confusing sound she would ever hear sounded throughout the empty pool room. It was the Bee Gees. God she hated the Bee Gees, men's voices were not meant to be that high, except before puberty. Everyone else had also flinched at the sound, which was ironically 'Staying Alive'. Looking around her confused glance landed on her cousin and he smirked and rolled his eyes.
"Do you mind if I get that?" His voice was tired. Charlie felt ready to kick his lily white ass through the tiled wall behind him, regardless of the snipers he probably still had floating around.
"Oh no please," Sherlock replied, sounding almost bored at the unexpected intrusion.
"You've got the rest of your life." James grinned tightly and answered it, frowning a little.
"Hello? Yes of course it is, what do you want?" He fidgeted from foot to foot as the person on the other end of the line spoke. He rolled his eyes and mouthed 'sorry' at the trio. Charlie glanced briefly towards Sherlock but he was steadfastly gazing towards Jim. She was now clutching his elbow and she squeezed it gently. He flashed her a quick glance, blue eye met green as a ghost of a reassuring smile flittering on his lips before dying away just as swiftly. He was still holding the gun and mouthed 'its fine' with a little shrug of his shoulders. James smiled and continued to listen to whoever was on the phone. Charlie couldn't stop the tiny grin flicker onto her face, the situation bordered on the downright stupid and yet at any moment all four of them could be paste beneath a few tonnes of tile. Suddenly the calm was shattered.
"SAY THAT AGAIN!" James screamed into the phone. Charlie quirked a brow, fighting the instinctive reaction to jump as her cousin's face morphed once more, becoming barely human as he snarled into the phone. Somehow, through the obvious insanity of his mind, he managed to pull himself together and the expression faded. This look scared her more than his outburst… it was like a mirror, fragile and hiding something deeply more disturbing.
"Say that again," he continued, his voice deadly calm,
"And know that if you're lying to me I will find you and I will skin you…" The last two words were drawn out, his hand miming the separation of skin from flesh and his eyes glinting with a sort of dangerous madness. Her cousin was insane. There was no humanity in that gaze and he smiled devilishly at them.
"Wait." He instructed whoever was on the phone before he lowered the phone and took a few steps towards the three people watching him cautiously.
"Sorry," he spoke slowly, gazing at each person equally.
"Wrong day to die."
"Did you get a better offer?" Sherlock asked calmly, nodding towards the phone. James gazed down at it and back at him.
"You'll be hearing from me Sherlock." He turned and walked back.
"Oh and Charlie my dear, give me a due date… I want to be there to welcome my little cousin into the world." He laughed. Charlie's façade of calm finally broke. She saw red and a strange growl left her lips as she coiled. She went to launch herself at the odious man.
"You bastard, you will never, ever see this child. Do you understand, never? If you come near me or it, I will find YOU and I will skin YOU. That's another promise." She screamed but was unable to launch herself at him. Strong arms encircled her waist and she fought like a wild cat to untangle herself. Turning halfway to scratch and pummel whoever was foolish enough to try and stop her she gazed up to see cold blue eyes. Later she was shiver at the memory, for in that moment Charlie didn't know who she looked at, her rage briefly clouded her reason and she drew back her fist, her lips drawn back in a terrible snarl. Then she stopped, sanity returned, and she slumped against a warm, solid chest as her breath came hard and fast. James, satisfied with his exit, made his way across the tiles towards the pool exit, still talking on his phone.
"So if you have what you say you have…I'll make you rich." He told them, whoever it was,
"But if you don't…I'll turn you into shoes." He continued calmly as he reached the door, he clicked, summoning his snipers as he left the pool. Silence reigned and Sherlock looked around as the spell that had been woven so tightly over all of them was broken. Regular time seemed to return to itself once more and the tension dissipated to a breathable quality. For a moment all they could hear was the noise of the pool filter and her ragged breathing.
"So what happened there?" John asked, Charlie finally laughed. She couldn't help it; a small giggle left her as she pushed away from Sherlock to stalk to the pool's edge, gazing down into the flickering water. "Someone changed his mind. Question is, who?" Sherlock said behind her and she nodded thoughtfully.
"I personally want to know exactly what is more important to my dear cousin than blowing me up however…" She trailed off as she turned to face the two men.
"I see there are other things we are to discuss." She said finally and the two nodded. She sighed and wrapped her arms around herself tightly.
"Lead the way then… let's go home.' She whispered. They left, no sign of James or his compatriots, and caught a cab back to Baker Street. If the previous cab rides had been awkward than this one just might have been their mother or queen. Self-consciously Charlie sat between the two, her hands folded sedately in her lap and her thick red hair shielding her from their twin stares. Finally they arrived and entered the flat, after a quick yell to her Aunt to come up too. Slowly, Charlie placed her coat on its pin, sat down on her end of the sofa and began to twist her fingers in complicated knots. Finally her Aunt entered the room. John swiftly informed her of what had happened… minus Charlie's unexpected news and her Aunt had flung her arms around each one, exclaiming, blaming and crying in turns.
"Please, Mrs Hudson control yourself… we're not done yet." Sherlock said, his firm voice halting even the gregarious woman in her tracks. Charlie sent him a dirty look which he shrugged off as he sat down on the opposite arm and picked up his violin. The apartment fell silent.
"Aunty Em…" Charlie began and three sets of eyes fell on her. Alright, enough of this cac. She straightened her shoulders and fixed her Aunt with a firm look, one she hope conveyed no nonsense rather than bravado.
"I just had it confirmed today…" Here went nothing.
"I'm pregnant."
There was a pregnant pause (he he he) as everyone allowed everyone else a chance to get used to the idea. Almost instantly Charlie regretted telling her Aunt/ Emma Hudson had long ago given up the chance of ever having grandchildren but at the announcement of a grandniece or nephew, Christmas had come wrapped in chocolate on her birthday. She shrieked and flung herself on her niece, hugging her tightly and scolding her for not telling her sooner, asking all the embarrassing questions older women seemed bound to ask; 'how far along are you' (Sherlock looked a might pissed as he tuned his violin but said nothing), 'did she know what it was yet', 'had she been getting enough sleep'. Unable to answer at the speed of questions Charlie began to lose track of the conversation. That delightful question was backed by John who then began to ask an entire text book worthy list of medical related questions she had gone over with Sarah. Charlie had reached breaking point when a jarring note suddenly sounded through the apartment. The ugly sound brought instant quiet and Charlie sighed with relief. Her aunt seemed to gather that a farewell was in order and kissed her niece goodnight before hurrying downstairs. Charlie gazed over to where Sherlock sat. The consulting detective gazed back, his precious violin perched beneath his chin as he observed her brusquely. She swallowed and prepared herself to answer round three of question night… she was so glad she didn't need sleep or anything.
Sherlock POV:
She looked exhausted. Simply put she probably was however Sherlock needed to get his answers now before she had any more time to lie to him. She looked forlorn, sitting quietly in her spot with her thin arms wrapped around her knees. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and Sherlock knew he'd have to do this hard and fast… better for everyone that way.
"A month you said, well that is… interesting." He began and she sighed.
"Yes, while we were away." She said and he frowned, picturing the weekend that was still very fuzzy to his usually brilliant memory. No help there.
"How?" He demanded and she flinched slightly.
"Sherlock didn't your Daddy ever give you the sex talk… maybe it was Mycroft, the beginning of all this confl…"
"Please Charlotte give me a little credit, it takes two to tango but it is far more interesting to me as to how you managed to collect a partner without John or myself knowing about it." He said and John coughed. Looking his way Sherlock smirked at the obviously uncomfortable doctor.
"Sherlock she doesn't have to tell us… that's her business, although…" He paused.
"You are okay about all this aren't you?" he asked Charlie who smiled tiredly but nodded.
"Yes John, I'm fine." She said and sighed quietly.
"He was… if you really have to know, one night stand I suppose. A fantastic one night stand but exactly that… I won't go after him; I don't need anything from him… only his name." She said and leant back on the couch, her hand riding to her stomach. Sherlock followed it and felt as though he'd been socked straight at the base of the sternum. She looked thoughtful rather than upset.
"A baby is going to change everything about your life… you know that right?" he said and she shrugged.
"So I won't ever get to travel to Peru, big deal. My allowance will just have to go to a trust fund, no biggie. I can start working day hours rather than night ones, more regularity. I can get a bigger place…" Sherlock had heard everything calmly but this took the cake.
"Find a bigger place?" He queried his throat closing slightly as he struggled to maintain his affront. He had been furious with her, at the pool and when they got home but now, now he couldn't be angry if he tried. Hurt. A foreign word usually but now he knew exactly what John had meant. He was hurt. He frowned inwardly and tried to focus on the conversation.
"Yes, I'll move out soon, get out of your hair. I know you don't want a screaming baby on your hands Sherlock, you don't seem much of a child lover and John will have girls over sometimes so…" She looked miserably at her hands. He flinched slightly. She was right, he didn't really like children, they were unintelligent, critical and at most times simply annoying. However, when he thought about it, it hurt a little to hear her say it out loud in such a fashion.
"No." He heard someone say quietly. Looking at a smiling John he realised it had been him. John unfolded his legs and smiled at Charlie.
"Charlie, please don't feel as though you have to move out on my behalf… if the girl's I date can't deal with it than they're not worth pursuing." He said and Charlie stared at him agape. Then she looked around at him.
"Sherlock, you don't have to pretend to want me around… I honestly don't min…"
"You're staying." He said firmly and her scarlet eyebrows shot to the border of her hairline. She unfolded herself slowly and leant forwards to gaze at him.
"A baby is going to change everything about your life… you know that right?" She said and Sherlock smiled thinly at her teasing.
"If John can give up his nymphomanic ways for the sake of your unborn child, I can give up a few pleasures as well." He said and a moment later found himself enveloped in a tight embrace. Thin arms wrapped around him and he looked down to see her beautiful face shining peacefully. John chuckled and stretched.
"Well, I'd love to stay up all night but… I need to sleep." He said brutally and waved goodnight. Sherlock saluted him awkwardly, his arms filled haphazardly with female and violin. When his best friend exited the room he looked down at Charlie only to find her eyes had closed and her breathing had deepened. Not quite sure what to do he slowly eased her off him, placed the violin on its stand and ran his hands over his face tiredly. What the hell had he just done? The anger built up again. Had she just maneuvered him into letting her stay, with a baby on the way… after lying to him about it, after everything he felt for her… okay his metal palace had just taken him on a weird trip. He quietly locked that though away but it snuck back just as harshly.
"Bugger." He whispered and heard what could have been a sleepy snigger coming from Charlie's collapsed form. He looked at her for a long moment. She was asleep, one hand semi-curled beneath her cheek and the other wrapped around her middle, an unconscious protection for the baby. The anger drained away for at least the 30th time that day. Sick of his mood swings and blaming late night telly he sighed and picked her up carefully. She frowned, her lips drawing back slightly and he had a flashback to earlier. He shuddered, she'd gone from rational human being to mindless animal in under two seconds and to be honest with himself it was unnervingly similar to her cousin, but that was as far as the similarities went. He shook his head and carried her carefully out of the lounge room. The apartment was silent as he pulled back the doona of her bed and with great skill managed to deposit his cargo without stirring her. She smiled and snuggled into her pillow. He felt something twinge within him, which he firmly ignored. Affection was a defect of the brain's chemical components and he would be damned if he listened to a defect. With that sorted out he turned and left the room.
Charlie POV:
"Take care Charlie, of you and the Jnr C." Thalia yelled as Charlie left work, almost a month and a half later. Charlie groaned audibly at the reminder and the blonde Aussie sniggered.
"Your own fault for getting knocked up; I expected better things from a girl like you." She teased and Charlie waved half-heartedly.
"Hey, cheer up girl… your man friends are in for a bigger ride than you, just think of the cravings." Thalia said and Charlie finally chuckled.
"Goodbye Thalia." She said firmly and the blonde blew a kiss. A short cab ride later she was in her apartment and greeted by the strong smell of coffee and the sight of her two flat mates having yet another fight over the blog. Sighing she snuck past and into her room, pulling out her oldest pair of pyjamas and a silk dressing gown which felt good on her slightly extended belly. Barefoot she crept back to the kitchen and snagged a muffin from behind the tea boxes underneath the brown sugar tin. Happily munching on her breakfast she sat down on the stool beside one of Sherlock numerous bubbling experiments and crossed her legs yoga style, overly careful of her bulge. With great amusement she watched the battle commence.
"What are you typing?" An obviously bored Sherlock demanded, clearly between cases.
"Blog." Came John's short reply.
"About?"
"Us."
"You mean me."
"Why?"
"Well, you're typing a lot." Charlie chuckled and the men became aware of her existence once more. Both turned and she grimaced.
"Morning," She yawned slightly
"Tough break huh?"
John answered 'yes', with Sherlock going for the typical pout/tantrum as the doorbell went. Sherlock clapped his hands after setting down his paper.
"Well then, what have we got?" He announced and she rolled her eyes as she moved to the sofa. He marched off downstairs and John sighed.
"You might want to get dressed if that's a client." He said and she stared at him blankly. He indicated her apparel and she smiled.
"John." She said mockingly.
"My back is killing me and although I haven't experienced any morning sickness so far I don't want to chance my good pyjamas, which I might add don't fit me anymore, for the sake of a client who needs to respect my condition."
"My wife seems to be spending a long time at the office…." A man in a beige coat spoke, hands clasped in front of him nervously, palms sweating. She smirked into her lap, shifting in her seat when her back twinged. According to the books littering her room the back ache was evolution in action her spine was being manipulated backwards to create more room for the baby to grow. According her short temper evolution sucked.
"Boring." Sherlock was brief and to the point. Charlie shook her head sadly as the man dejectedly left the flat.
"You're a bully. Honestly Sherlock…" She tutted, he simply raised an eyebrow. She shrugged and winced a headache began to form in her temple. Sherlock held out a packet of Tylenol which she grasped gratefully and swallowed two pills dry. He shuddered. She winked. Unsurprisingly, Sherlock's tack level did not increase as time, and clients, went by. Days later Charlie found herself fighting her laughter when he told two little girls that people didn't go to heaven. John spent the next half an hour explaining to him why it was not appropriate and Charlie spent the next hour chuckling with Sherlock over it.
"Cac, mo céadghin has no chance at this rate. I'm going to be raising a sarcastic, overly intelligent and slightly neurotic child in a household shared by a war veteran and a complete jerk… fantastic." She teased and frowned as Sherlock stopped grinning and went to the window. He had his violin in his hand and began to fiddle with it, stray notes bouncing around the apartment. She sighed. He always did that, whenever the topic of the baby came up. He didn't see it as a problem, as he had informed her weeks ago, he simply didn't care. It hurt to think that her best friend/one time sex partner didn't want to have anything to do with her baby. She felt her irrational tears well again and fought hard to suppress them.
"Unnecessary." Her voice was harsh as she turned her head away and exited the room. From her position in the hall she could hear John berating the detective and smiled. A rather detached melody began to play and she let it soothe her. The baby still almost immediately and she grinned.
"He does care; he just doesn't know how to show it Charlie." She turned to see her Aunt standing at the bottom of the stairs she grinned and shook her head.
"Whatever, Aunty Em." She said calmly and moved off to her room. The music continued, she lay back on her bed (on her side) and let herself drift in and out as she listened to her friends excellent playing. Normally she would have wanted to snap the damned thing in two but the baby bump had obviously changed more than her weight. She shook her head and glanced around her chaotic room. Books, stray furniture she would be needing and her original stuff littered the place and she frowned at the wall as a quiet knock suddenly sounded
"Charlie, please come out, John is making tea and we're bound to have a client soon." She flung her head around to gaze at the offending portal
The doorbell went.
"See?" Sherlock pointed out and she smiled. She stood up and opened the door a crack. He raised an eyebrow.
"Is it safe, you know I wouldn't want to upset any of your precious clients?" She said and he rolled his eyes.
"Please?" He asked and held out his hand. She smiled and took the outstretched palm. He grinned and pulled her into the lounge room.
"Well then, let's see if this one's actually interesting!" She said and he nodded.
Charlie rested against the other slab as she watched Sherlock observed the eyes of the corpse through his magnifying glass, John looking at the specks all over the girl's body.
"Two pierce wounds possibly bite marks, but I can't find evidence of venom in her system. They're running a full toxicology scan but it could take a while." She spoke to the room at large as Lestrade stood besides her, watching them all with the same confused curiousness his face usually held,
"Just in case you wanted details for your blog John." She said and he grinned.
"Do you like it?" He asked and she sighed.
"Thanks for keeping… it… out of it." She said and John nodded.
"I like that you always describe my hair as either 'crimson' or 'flaming' makes the Irish in me proud." She said and he blushed slightly. Sherlock stiffened and turned back to the body. Lestrade smiled at Charlie and handed her an envelope.
"What's this?" She demanded and he smiled.
"A little congratulations appears to be in order." He said and all eyes went to her stomach. She nodded and brought her hand up to the small bump, carefully hidden within the recesses of her coat. After much deliberation she'd decided to buy a larger one, keeping most of society unaware of her condition. Sherlock sighed.
"Thanks Lestrade." Charlie said, touched.
"Better than a blog." She whispered.
"Does anyone actually read it?"
"Where do you think your clients come from?" John replied, sounding offended.
"I have a website." Sherlock spoke, examining the black speckles.
"Yeah, upon which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. Nobody's reading your website." John retorted. Sherlock looked up at Charlie who looked up from reading her card. She shrugged and smiled.
"I read it occasionally but I could always just ask you instead so…" She trailed off.
"And Molly does…" She added after a thought causing the whole room, minus Sherlock to smirk. The three walked out after replacing the unfortunate girl.
Two weeks later, Charlie awoke to the sound of Sherlock banging through the apartment. She pushed her way out of bed, got dressed and moved sluggishly towards the lounge room.
"Let's go." Sherlock said and she found her hand seized and the rest of her dragged out into the cold morning. Lestrade met them beside the airport and she
"There was a plane crash in Dusseldorf yesterday. Everyone dead."
"Suspected terrorist bomb. We do watch the news." Sherlock responded, sounding bored. Charlie smirked and raised her eyebrows.
"You were sitting on the couch, said 'boring' and turned over!" She announced and Lestrade coughed, attempting to hide his smile. Unsuccessfully.
"Well according to the flight details this man was checked in on board."
They approached a silvery car parked on the embankment, with a corpse hanging out of the trunk.
Lestrade continued to talk as Sherlock pulled the trunk lid down to inspect the number plate and then bent to look at the body.
"Inside his coat he's got a stub from his boarding pass, napkins from the flight…here is his passport, stamped in Berlin Airport. So this man should have died in a plane crash in Germany yesterday, and instead he's in a car boot in London!"
Charlie bent beside Sherlock to examine the man's body more closely. Her foot caught on the sidewalk and she slipped. Three pairs of hands reached out and caught her before she hit the floor.
"Thanks guys, balance has been out for a while now." She said, embarrassed.
"Any ideas so far?" John asked, lifting his arm out of the way to examine the man's eyes.
"Eight so far…" He nudged her slightly and she peered closer.
"I've only got six." She remarked. He pursed his lips, also peering closer. "Okay maybe four ideas…" He said and she grinned. Suddenly he straightened, examining the passport and ticket.
"Make that two ideas…" He muttered as a plane flew overhead, casting a shadow upon them all. Charlie frowned and followed.
"Táthaigh tú féin go cineálta, stupid baby brain." She muttered. Lestrade quirked a brow at her and she grinned. Pointing to her stomach she frowned.
"Not appropriate for children."
"Oh."
Sherlock POV:
"No, no don't mention the unsolved ones!" Sherlock spoke from the centre of the room. He was clad in his usual shirt and trousers combination currently accompanied by his dressing gown, a pair of yellow industrial rubber gloves (commandeered generously from Charlie) and some safety goggles. He started to gesticulate, his annoyance arousing with each moment the man spent in front of that bloody computer. The dark blue liquid in the flask he clasped in his hand slopped dangerously close to the rim of the flask. He managed to save it but not John's soul which he consigned to the darkness corner of hell. The blowtorch on the other hand was being pointed in Charlie's innocent direction as she slowly flicked another page of her book. He caught a glimpse and flinched. What to Expect: Baby's First Year. It wasn't that he was angry with her or the baby factor; he just didn't want to know about it. It annoyed him somewhat, she was carrying another man's child and in a few months he would lose what little quiet he ever had to the kid. It was better if he stayed away, she was fine, he was fine and even the baby was fine… according to her last check-up.
"People want to know you're human!" Insisted John, nodding in greeting
"Why?" Sherlock demanded angrily.
"Because they're interested."
"No they're not..." He looked away for a moment.
"Why are they?"
John didn't answer, instead clicking onto his own blog and smiling.
"Hmm, look at that. One thousand, eight hundred and ninety five." He muttered and Sherlock sighed with disgust as he stalked away.
"Eh?"
"I reset that counter last night." He gestured to the numbers on the screen beneath his smiling profile picture.
"This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last twelve hours. This is your living Sherlock, not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash." Sherlock straightened upright, smarting. It had taken him a good while and a lot of self-control to count those tobacco ashes; did no one appreciate science anymore?
"Two hundred and forty three." He corrected sulkily, starting up the blowtorch and heading into the kitchen. He heard Charlie giggle as he set the blow torch to the flask. For a few moments there was nothing then…
BANG!
"Sherlock! Please don't damage the counters, Aunty Em will have our heads… you know how she handled the wall!" He grinned as he began to clean the mess up, avoiding the small puddle of acid which began to tarnish the table top. Oops.
Sometime later the three of them were stuck in the bowels of a theatre, cackling madly over the case.
"So what's this one? Belly Button Murders?" Sherlock inquired sarcastically towards John who sniggered. He plunged his hands into his pockets as his two companions walked either side of him. Charlie smiled softly, her face strangely guarded. Sherlock rolled his eyes as Lestrade approached.
"There's a lot of press outside guys!" He announced and Sherlock watched Charlie face drain of colour.
"I can't go out then." She announced and Sherlock frowned.
"Come on it's not so bad." He said but she shook her head.
"I won't expose my baby to that rubbish." She said and she hung back from the awaiting door.
"Well they won't be interested in us." Sherlock spoke casually, half serious and half reassuring.
"Yeah, well that was before you three became an internet phenomenon. Couple of them specifically wanted photographs of you three." Lestrade pointed out and Sherlock wanted to hit him. As he spoke Charlie began to back further and further away.
"For god's sake…Charlotte, come here." He said and she approached cautiously. He gestured around.
"Take what you want, just make it snappy." He ordered and she froze. Then she smiled and wandered away.
"John." Sherlock continued.
"Hmm?"
"Cover your face and walk fast." He tossed a hat over and straight into John's face. The blonde man caught it and scowled briefly before sighing and pulling it on. He walked out of the room and ahead of them again, a hat clasped in his hand.
"Still, it's good for the public image, big case like this." Lestrade said as they approached the exit.
"Come on Charlotte." Sherlock called and they turned to see a cloaked figure running towards them.
"A little melodramatic don't you think."
"Please, I always wanted to do this." She said and the trio stepped out into the hailstorm of media. Grumbled Sherlock, ramming on a deerstalker and yanking it to cover his eyes, flipping his collar up to cover his face as they left the doors. Charlie seemed to shrink, head bowed and pace as they left the building. Sherlock indicated for John to close in and they squished her between them until they finally reached the cab. The media went nuts.
"Who is the woman? Sherlock let us see her pretty face." These comments were ignored and he allowed Charlie in first
"Sherlock! Over here Sherlock!"
"Doctor Watson!" The door slammed shut and the cab made off. Needless to say the headlines the next day were amusing. Charlie was gazing at a paper in horror.
"Hey John, Sherlock, look at this!" She announced, waving a paper in front of them where John was leaning against the counter, drinking coffee and Sherlock was blow torching a flask… again. He paused and they walked over.
"Hat Man, Robin and The Nun, The Web Detectives." John read out, Sherlock rolled his eyes and Charlie groaned.
"Oh come on, you've got to admit it's funny." He said and she buried her face in her hands.
"If I wanted to be called 'Hat Man' I'd put it on my website…and they referred to Charlotte as a Mystery Woman, possibly a Secret Agent or some rubbish… not the kind of low profile she was hoping for."
She nodded and John rolled his eyes. He grinned at them and Charlie smirked.
"I suppose it could be worse, they could know of the baby." She said and the trio nodded.
Yeeha! First Chapter up and Running! Hope you all enjoy as much as I have.
Translations:
Cac- shit
Mo céadghin- my first born
Táthaigh tú féin go cineálta- (playfully) fuck yourself