May I have this dance?

'Claire…' He looked her over incredulously, uttering a quiet whistle, and grinned. 'Did Tess force you to buy a new dress, or were all the jeans in the washing?'

He had a strange way of complimenting her. Claire laughed dryly, hoping that Alex wouldn't notice that she took pleasure in his admiring glances – no, 'taking pleasure' was the wrong expression, she reprimanded herself. She was bewildered, that was it. What were those silly lines all about?

He turned to the young man behind the counter. 'Can I get a beer, please, and- what do you want?'

'Nothing, thanks.' She showed him her glass, which was half full.

'Claire,' he exclaimed in shock, 'you can't drink beer while you're pregnant! The baby-'

'The baby will hardly mind non-alcoholic, Alex!' She shook her head. This paternalism through others was starting to get on her nerves. As soon as you got pregnant, everyone started treating you like some public property, giving you advice, or even instructions. Suddenly, it was everyone's business what you ate or drank, how much you slept or worked, whether you were still riding. She was sick of it, and the back pain wouldn't lessen, either.

'Oh…all right. Does it taste okay?'

'Kind of like dishwater.'

'Nice.' Alex paid for his beer and leaned against the bar next to her. The farmer council's annual celebration in Gungellan didn't exactly excite the biggest party mood.

'Ryan charm not working today?'

'What?'

'Well, you're obviously planning to stay here, and I haven't seen much of Jessica, Kimberly, or what's-her-face, either' she taunted.

'Come on, you're not exactly surrounded by blokes, either.'

'Yeah, but I'm pregnant – what's your excuse?'

'Well, for the girls here, I'm the father of your child, the man who knocked you up, but refuses to take any responsibility. In other words: I'm a downright bastard.'

Claire grew serious, a surge of guilt rushing through her. 'I'm sorry. If we hadn't lied-'

'Nonsense, who cares. There's worse things in life.'

Something about his cautious smile struck her. She felt an enormous gratitude for what he had done for her, which connected them in some way, but it was more than this – that radiance in his blue eyes was so warm, so genuine…she broke the eye contact. What was that all about, he was just a friend! Just a friend, a mate who had done her a giant favour, nothing more. She pulled herself together and took another sip of her awful, non-alcoholic beer. Get a grip, McLeod!

'And people here think we're a couple, anyway. They've thought that for a while.'

'Weird thought' she replied quickly.

'Yeah…of course!' He quickly averted his gaze, which had turned serious all of a sudden.

She was confused, had she said something inappropriate? 'Not…that it would be an awful tragedy, or something. People just talk too much around here, because they got no life of their own.'

'So you admit that I'm a total dream bloke, hypothetically speaking?' he replied with a smirk.

Claire chuckled. 'Now that's something you'll never hear out of my mouth.'

Alex simply kept looking at her, smiling. 'Well, you're not too bad either, McLeod.'

'Tsk, thanks, I feel flattered now.'

'You better. I would ask you for a dance, but…' He threw a questioning glance at her leg. She hadn't used the cane for a while, but a bit of a limp had remained.

'Oh, come on, that's a cheap excuse' she remarked in a provocative tone. 'Just because you can't dance-'

'I can't? Now that's news to me! Let me prove the opposite!' Alex offered his hand in a festive gesture.

She hesitated for a moment, but ended up taking it and let him lead her to the dancefloor, laughing. 'But nothing fast, all right?'

'I see how it is' he replied with a grin. 'Okay then, let's get down to business right away.' He winked at her.

'In your dreams!'

They moved solemnly in the rhythm of the calm song, slowing down until all they really did was shift their weight from one foot to the other in one place. Claire looked past his head deliberately, although she could feel his gaze on her face. Her heart rate increased with each minute, her cheeks were burning, and when she finally did risk a glance into his eyes –why did he have to look like that right that second- she felt a strange, warm, fuzzy feeling inside her stomach. Those bloody hormones!

'Those cheesy love songs are so cheap' she remarked in an attempt at casual conversation.

'Hell yeah. Make me chunder' he confirmed with a grin.

'Oh!' Claire moved a hand to her belly.

'What? You all right?' he asked, his voice full of concern.

She smiled. 'Yeah, sure. It's just that the little one wanted to dance, too.'

'Or maybe he was just having a soccer practice.'

'She.'

'Whatever.'

'Our little one, Alex.'

A radiant beam spread across his face. 'Our little one…'