Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own creations.


Caitlin "Cat" Moira was inputting data into the computer when she sensed someone approaching the desk. Looking up, her welcoming smile instantly in place, it wavered slightly when she saw just who it was coming toward her.

A friend from high school – though friend was a strong word (acquaintance perhaps?) – their paths had crossed several times over the years, more than unwelcomingly ever in the past four.

Every time that blonde, head cheerleader walked across the hotel marble floors, Cat was reminded of where she stood in life.

A single mum of twins at 15, she worked two jobs just to keep her two sons clothed and fed, and here was Little Miss Perfect coming and going as she pleased, on the arms of assorted gentlemen.

She only came to her when she needed something, and as the oft absent aunt of her children, how could she refuse?

Cat kept her plastic smile in place as the woman arrived the desk.

"Hello Cat."


Jazmin eyed the women her idiot brother had knocked up back in high school with a derogatory glance. The years had not treated her well. I mean, sure she had kids, but come on, a good hairdresser would go a long way.

"The usual?" said Cat and Jazmin noted she look tired.

Well take time off, she snorted inwardly.

"Room 2304," she replied with a taste of mysteriousness designed to make all fabulously jealous of her.

After all, if you've got it – flaunt it.

She took the proffered key card, spun on her heel and stalked across the foyer. Stepping into the elevator, Jazmin know the expression she had left behind, like countless women before her.

Slipping into the hotel room, she noticed it empty with satisfaction. Her man hadn't arrived for the night yet.

And what a night it would be.

Attired in a transparent teddy, she held a glass of champagne in one hand and struck a provocative pose when she heard the door opening less than twenty minutes later.

Her hand dropped when a woman dressed in tight jeans, a grey top, white jacket and knee high boots stepped into the suite.

She wasn't alone, a baby dressed warmly on her hip, a bag on her shoulder.

Jazmin eyed this intruder when the man stepped in and stopped suddenly at the sight of her.

"Jazmin!"


Cyrus Garza eyed the blonde beauty standing before the bed.

He'd always had a thing for blondes (still did actually). Confusion on his face, he felt the heavy weight of his load digging into his shoulder as Mereta turned her body slightly, the baby in her arms looking around with wide eyes. "Ah, Cyrus?"

He dropped the travel cot to the floor and wheeled the large suitcase to the half-wall before them.

Touching her shoulder briefly, he mouthed "sorry" before stepping forward. "Jazmin. A word?"


Mereta watched Cyrus move into the bathroom with a tightening heart.

She'd been afraid something like this would happen. After all, what was she really?

Realising she was still rooted to the spot, and her daughter was shifting restlessly in her arms, she ordered herself together and moved away.

Tugging back the curtain, she stood before the window. Turning Ariadne back against her chest, mother and baby looked out on the bright lit city.

She didn't know how long she stood there, but when she heard noises behind her, she ignored them, staying standing when the door slammed and Ariadne turned in her arms.

She struggled to hold herself together when Cyrus stood at her back and enveloped her in his arms, his hands clasped at their daughter's padded bottom.

"Sorry," was all the former Supreme Court Justice offered. "I didn't know she'f be here, I didn't invite her here, and I gave her no impression that she would be welcome."

Mereta struggled not to smile at the lawyer answer.

Perhaps he'd sensed he'd been forgiven, but whatever the reason, she tilted her head when he pressed his lips to the side of her neck.

He looked to ignite the passion before indignant cries from the seven month old drew the parents apart.

Both laughed and turned their eyes to Ari.

"Let's get her sorted," said Cyrus softly.

She nodded as he gave her a gently squeeze and backed away. Taking off her jacket, she took a seat at the head of the bed – thankfully untouched – and prepared to nurse.

With Ariadne suckling strongly, she watched her capable man assemble the travel cot – tie removed and shirt sleeves rolled up.

Task complete, he joined her on the bed next.

Ari finished in a matter of minutes, her little mouth yawning as she dozed at her nipple, Mereta gingerly eased back.

Cyrus easily took the baby's lax form into his arms and eased her into the cot with a kiss.

Tugging down her shirt, Mereta was surprised to look up and find Cyrus right before her. He braced himself above her as he leaned down.

"We'll wake the baby," she objected pitifully.

"We'll just have to be very quiet," he suggested, each word punctuated by a kiss as he lowered her onto the bed.

"Mereta."


It gave her a thrill every time.