A/N: AVON'S LITTLE GIRL follows HOUSEWARMING, continuing the saga of Vila and Avon after surviving Gauda Prime. The B7 characters belong to BBC and Terry Nation. The story is set on Darkover, which belongs to Marion Zimmer Bradley.

There are several previous story arcs. Please see my profile for the names and order of those stories.

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"I don't think I've ever seen you this jumpy," Vila remarked as Avon made another circuit around the sitting room, shoving an impatient hand through his long dark hair. He was still not used to his mane of hair, but he refused to cut it. Somehow, in his mind, it separated him from the dark, intense, homicidal Kerr Avon that had commanded the Liberator and Scorpio. Even when irritated at the length, it still served as a reminder of the dark times and helped him negotiate this new world he and Vila were creating between them.

"Well, I've never been a father before, have I?" he snapped, halting abruptly, fisted hands on his hips and a dangerous glare in his eyes.

Vila snickered at his mate's obvious unease, easily dismissing the glare. "Good thing, that," he said dryly.

"Vila, what if she doesn't like us?" Avon asked, his voice low and desperate. "What if she…doesn't like me?" He chewed on his lower lip, his brows corrugating in worry. He could so easily envision multiple scenarios that had this…child disliking him or dismissing him or even defying him. And he would have no notion how to deal with any of it. He could command a starship, plot battle campaigns, scheme to defraud the Federation banking system, but how was he supposed to raise a young girl-child?

Vila stepped in close to his partner, not quite touching. Tilting his head to one side, an amused smile flickering on his lips, he asked lightly, "Why shouldn't she? I like you, you're a likeable sort. Very likeable," he purred, reaching one delicate finger to trace Avon's jaw line, trying to distract Avon.

It worked. Affronted, though only slightly, he brushed aside Vila's questing hand, saying with exasperation, "Come on, Vila, not now. Cally's due within the hour."

With a complacent grin, Vila pulled back, raising his hands in surrender. "Just teasing, my love."

A wry grin creased Avon's face. "I know," he sighed. "Let's go; she might be early and I don't want to keep them waiting."

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They waited beside the trap, at the edge of the landing field, watching as the PAXON, a relatively small scout ship, made its final approach and settled to the ground. While most of the Avilla horses were used to the sound and smell of spacecraft by now, Avon took no chances, holding the bay cob securely until the shuttle was down and silent.

Shortly, the hatch lifted and Cally stepped into the open. She turned back, beckoning, and a smaller figure joined her on the ramp. Avon's breath caught and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He felt Vila's hand on his shoulder.

"Go on, this is your time, Avon. I'll wait here with the cart."

The darker man walked slowly toward the ship, as Cally turned and waved. "Avon!" she called out.

"Cally," he returned, striding faster now, stopping just short of the ramp.

Cally stepped aside, drawing her daughter forward with one arm around her shoulders. "Avon, this is Serran."

Avon regarded the thin, big-eyed child at close range now. She was small for her age, but very pretty, with her long auburn hair, bright green eyes, and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose and cheeks. He noted with a smile that Cally had dressed her in the distinctive Avilla plaid, probably with Vila's collusion. Brushing his long hair out of his eyes, he sank to one knee, bringing himself to her eye level.

A small voice piped up solemnly, "If you don't like your hair in your eyes, why don't you cut it short?"

He blinked at this unexpected opening. "Because…well, that was another man, one I don't wish to become again," he answered seriously. Maybe, he mused, she's so used to dealing only with adults that she doesn't even know how a child should interact with adults. Well, that's unexpected, but it should make it easier for me and, perhaps, her to get along in this new situation.

"Are you going to be my father?" she asked straightforwardly.

"If it's all right with you, yes."

"And I'll stay here with you?"

"Of course."

"But my mother has to leave. That's what she said."

"She has much to accomplish, Serran, and you need a place to stay, so that you can go to school."

"Mother told me that there were places here where I can learn to use my Auron abilities." It was such a mature statement for one so young that Avon was taken aback for a moment. He looked into her eyes and sent his thoughts directly to her mind.

*Serran, can you hear me now?*

*Yes.* Her mental voice was a bit more tentative than her forthright speaking voice. In all likelihood, she'd never mind-spoken with anyone but the other Auron members of Cally's small community.

*You don't mind our speaking this way?*

*No, it's just different than talking aloud.*

*It isn't something we'll do often,* he cautioned. *Uncle Vila can't speak with us this way, and it is considered impolite to exclude him.*

Immediately, she switched to verbal communication. "No, that wouldn't be nice, would it?"

Cally stepped up beside them, asking, "Why didn't Vila come over with you?"

"He's with the horse. He didn't feel he should intrude."

Serran pointed toward the trap. "Is that my Uncle Vila?"

"Yes, it is," Avon replied. "Come on, let's go meet him and get back to the house. We'll send someone back for your things later." He offered her his hand, which Serran solemnly accepted. It felt…strange to Avon, holding onto such a small hand. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped out, suddenly unbearably proud of child beside him. His…daughter!

They left the ship, Serran walking between Cally and Avon. Stopping before the trap, she looked up, declaring, "You're my Uncle Vila."

"Yes, I am," he replied. As Vila bent over to solemnly shake Serran's hand, Rom shied, pulling Vila around by the reins looped around his arm. Before either man could react, Serran moved to the horse, reached up and touched his head. To everyone's amazement, the big animal quieted immediately.

As the adults silently regarded the little girl, she explained matter-of-factly, "He was frightened. The shuttle made noises and threw dirt at him. He's afraid it'll come and get him."

Avon turned to the child's mother, eyebrows lifted. "Cally, I thought you said you didn't have any animals where you live on Kaarn. Where did she learn about…"

"I read his feeling," the little girl interrupted, her chin raised.

Avon turned to her. "Can you…tell Rom what to do, too?" he asked curiously.

"Of course." She fell silent, her face taking on the same faraway look on that Vila said Avon got when he used his mind powers.

Avon turned toward the horse, not knowing what to expect. Abruptly, Rom quieted from his restless fidgeting, lowered his head and whickered at the child, extending his nose to snuffle at her clothing as she reached out to stroke the velvety nose just below the end of its meandering blaze.

"Well, I'll be damned," Avon swore softly. Shaking off his amazement, he cleared his throat and asked, "Are you all ready to go down to the house?" When they nodded, he took the reins, climbed up to the driver's seat, reaching down to lift Serran up beside him while Vila and Cally settled themselves into the back seat.

"Move on, Rom. Yup!" he called to the horse. Serran grabbed his arm for balance, laughing with delight. Avon glanced down, pleased with her pleasure, with her smile, with her very presence. A lump threatened to seal off his throat and lungs at this treasure that had entered his life. Just at that moment, he felt he had everything in the universe he could ever have desired for a perfect life: a home, a loving mate that he adored, a cherished friend, and now a daughter.