If That's What You Want

by EGB Fan

Eduardo and Kylie marry, coincidentally on the same day a whole bunch of youknowwhat happens.

1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Ghostbusters (c) Columbia Pictures

Warning: Sexual content in subsequent chapters

Extreme Ghostbusters: If That's What You Want

Part 1

Sunday 7th June 1846

Constantine Slaymaker took the fine-tooth comb from the dresser and began to draw it through the flawless mane of thick honey curls in front of her.

"I'm so excited," gushed Sally.

"I'm sure you are," Constantine replied expressionlessly, catching Sally's unnaturally pale blue eyes in the mirror and wondering how surprised she would act on the wedding night.

"I can hardly believe it! I'm actually going to marry him!"

"You certainly are, honey."

"Ow!"

"Sorry."

x x x

Monday 28th August 2006

"Hi, come in, thanks for coming."

"No problem." Kevin Rivera, still not completely awake, and brimming with curiosity about the eight a.m. phone call, stepped over the threshold and into his uncle's small apartment. "What -? Oh, hi!"

Kevin crouched to greet his five-year-old cousin Conchita, who was always pleased to see him.

"Hi, Kevin," she smiled. "You look nice."

"Oh." Kevin looked down dubiously at his old grey t-shirt and skin-tight black jeans ("They'll make you sterile," his baggy-clothed semi-friend Oscar had once warned him). "Thanks. So do you."

Kevin was eighteen – a mere nine years younger than Eduardo Rivera, his only blood uncle. The generations in that family had somehow got themselves out of sync. Eduardo was some eight years nearer in age to his nephew than he was to his older brother, which had probably helped make him and Kevin close. After all Kevin was an only child, and the cousins on his mother's side lived some distance away in Iowa.

"So how was your trip to the homeland?" asked Kevin. This was the first time he was seeing Eduardo's branch of the family since they got back from a visit to an aunt in Mexico. He suspected he was the first person to welcome them home, since they had arrived back in New York only the previous evening.

"It was good," said Eduardo, and proceeded to tell Kevin all the latest family gossip until the other half of the household wandered into the room some minutes later.

Kylie Griffin, Eduardo's girlfriend of approximately eight years, arrived carrying their younger daughter Rose, who was wrapped in a towel. Rose was only two-and-a-half, and didn't mind being naked in front of eighteen-year-old boys just yet.

"Hi, Kevin," Kylie said pleasantly. She was slightly less underdressed than Rose, wearing only a towelling robe, which seemed to cause some distress in Eduardo.

"Aren't you ready yet?" he boggled.

"Yes, I'm going like this," retorted Kylie. "Here." She bundled Rose, towel and all, into his arms. "Help her get dressed, can you?"

"Mommy, I can get dressed by myself!" argued Rose. She was talking well for her age – she spoke virtually fluent English and Spanish, in fact – which many people found astonishing, because she was absolutely tiny and didn't look two-and-a-half.

"Maybe we should get somebody to sit for them," Kylie demurred, as she looked dubiously at Rose's I'm-not-in-the-mood-for-anything expression. "They're going to be so bored."

"What's happening?" asked Kevin, pouncing upon the opportunity to ask the question that had trailed him like a stray dog since he left his father's house.

"We're getting married," said Kylie.

"You're getting what?"

"Married."

Kevin blinked. "What, now?"

"Yes. Well." Kylie glanced at the digital clock on the VCR. It was about nine thirty. "In about an hour and a half."

Kevin looked first at his undressed, towel-wrapped little cousin, and then at Kylie's oversized robe. "Aren't we cutting it a bit close?" he asked.

"It'll be fine," Kylie said breezily.

"I'm not supposed to get dressed up or anything, am I?"

"No, no, we just need you to be a witness." She wandered off in the direction of the bathroom and the two bedrooms.

Kevin glanced down at Conchita. "And I thought my parents were weird," he said.

"Hey," said Kylie, coming straight back. "We're twenty-seven and we're getting married by a judge with two witnesses instead of making a fuss. What's weird about that? Get her dressed, can't you?" she added impatiently, looking at Eduardo.

"Nothing," said Kevin. "What's weird is that no one seems to know about it. Why haven't you told anybody?"

Kylie sighed. "I'm going to have to explain this to absolutely everyone, aren't I?"

Kevin looked at her expectantly.

"You tell him, Eddie. I have to get dressed."

"It's only because she didn't want a fuss," Eduardo explained. He hoisted Rose up slightly, because she was in danger of slipping through the towel. "Apparently people 'go insane at the mere mention of marriage and weddings' and try to persuade you to do stuff you don't want to."

"Do they?" Kevin asked dubiously.

"I don't know. The only experience of weddings I have is Egon and Janine, which they wanted to be huge anyway, and your mom and dad, which was a long time ago."

"Twenty-one years, isn't it?"

"Something like that."

"So what about what you want?" asked Kevin. "You said it's what she wants. Are you ok with… you know… getting married in secret?"

Eduardo shrugged. "Hey, I just want to get married."

"Fair enough. It's kinda like Dad: he always told me he didn't care how he and Mom got married and they had a big wedding because it was what she wanted."

"I heard that one too."

"Y'know," said Kevin, "he's really gonna freak out when he finds out you guys got married secretly."

Eduardo snorted. "Like it's any of his goddamn business."

"Do you think he'll be mad at me if he finds out I was in on it?"

"You're not in on it. You've only known for about two minutes."

"True," Kevin conceded. "I just don't want to antagonise him right now. I've already got some news I don't want to break to him."

"What's that?" asked Eduardo.

"I'm not telling you."

"That bad, huh?"

"I don't know… I'd just rather not tell you now, since you're getting married and all."

"All right." Eduardo cut a glance in the direction of the bedrooms. "Kev, can you do me a favour and dress this one for me?"

"Daddy!" wailed Rose, as she was passed on a second time. "I can do it myself!"

"Sure," said Kevin. "You want her in anything special?"

"I can do it myself, Kevin!"

"You know I'd never tell anyone how to dress, Kev. Let her choose for herself."

Kevin carried Rose through to the bedroom that she shared with Conchita, who incidentally went with them, while Eduardo wandered through to the room he and Kylie slept in. He found Kylie smoothing a somewhat matronly black dress – long-sleeved, and cut to mid-calf – over the contours of her slight frame. It didn't look right on her somehow, especially as she was without her makeup.

"That's what you're wearing?" he asked.

"Ah-ha."

Eduardo watched, faintly relieved, as she bent her knees slightly and tore away a considerable portion of the skirt. It must have been a pretty flimsy fabric, and it made a very satisfying sound as it ripped. She then tore away both sleeves to the elbow and, just when Eduardo thought she must have finished, she managed to tear away most of the neck as well (with a little bit of clever contortionism). She then folded the frayed fabric onto itself and smoothed it over her upper arms, exposing her shoulders.

"That'll do," she said, glancing at the three-quarter-length mirror on the dresser as she stepped into her combat boots.

"How much did that dress cost you?" asked Eduardo, just out of interest.

"Oh, not much."

"You're making an effort to dress up for this, aren't you? Are you sure you don't want me to wear something… else?" He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

"Babe," said Kylie. She sat down at the dresser and picked up a black lipstick. "I just want you to be yourself." She expertly applied the lipstick, and then made a face at herself in the mirror. "Maybe I'm getting too old for this stuff."

"What stuff?"

"You know – black lipstick and excessive mascara and tearing up my clothes."

"Well," said Eduardo, smiling slightly, "now seems a good time to stop. I mean, we are getting married, and a woman's duty is to represent her husband."

Kylie threw him a very-funny-I-don't-think look in the mirror. "I know you don't mean that."

"Kylie." He crossed the room and crouched down next to her, so that his eyes were about level with her shoulders. "We are going to be ready in time, aren't we? I mean, you did organise another witness?"

"Of course I did," said Kylie, with one eye shut, as she was now applying eye shadow. "I'm not stupid. He should be here any minute."

"Who is it?"

"Didn't I tell you?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh," said Kylie. "Well, it's Leonard."

"Who?"

"Leonard."

"Who?"

She smacked him lightly on the arm and said, "Leonard Bates, you moron. One of our clients from 'ninety-seven?"

"Leonard… Oh, wait a minute – you mean that old letch who had a wishing well and wished for an evil soul-sucking bride with no skin?"

"Letch?" echoed Kylie. "Leonard isn't a letch!"

"Sure he is. He had the hots for you when you were eighteen and he was forty."

"Thirty-nine."

"And eleven months."

"He didn't have the hots for me," argued Kylie. "I might have had a little crush on him, I do admit. I was a kid and I liked older men, but that was a long time ago. And don't make that face at me – I'm not your mother."

Eduardo had adopted the expression he had always given his mother in moments of extreme petulance since childhood. Rose tended to use it more than he did nowadays (she had it down to a tee), but every so often it would creep back into Eduardo's face. He tried to dispel it, but the look only deepened as he asked irritably, "Why him?"

"Why not him?"

"Because he's nobody. Since he stopped globetrotting and came back to New York, you've only exchanged a couple of e-mails with him."

"Yeah, well, who else was I supposed to ask?" reasoned Kylie. "You want Kevin to be there, because you and he are close, but I don't have any close family. There are only three people that really matter to me, but you can't be your own witness and I think we'd have trouble persuading the judge that the girls are over eighteen."

That little speech made Eduardo feel pretty guilty. "What about your dad?" he asked.

"Oh." Kylie pulled a face. "You know how I feel about him. I mean, don't get me wrong – I love him and everything – but we've never been close. And besides, I don't think he'd really want to see me get married."

"Sure he would. He loves you like crazy, Ky."

"Yeah, but he's been totally disillusioned about marriage ever since his went down the pan. He might not like it."

"He only wants you to be happy."

Kylie shrugged. "I guess."

"I don't think my dad would've wanted to see this. He'd have hated you."

Kylie raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"He always said there were two kinds of women: the kind you have fun with, and the kind you marry. He was pretty sexist," Eduardo said sheepishly. "You wouldn't have liked him either."

"Yeah, well." Having finished concealing her face with makeup, she swivelled round on the chair and looked at him. "Never mind. I think he'd be really proud of you."

"Ha! I don't know about that."

"He would… He is. You did two good things, at least."

"Yeah," Eduardo smiled, knowing at once what she meant. "He adored Kevin."

"There you go, then."

"He liked Beth too. He always said she was 'marriage material'."

"I really am sorry your family all hate me, you know."

"They don't all hate you."

"They do," argued Kylie.

"Yeah, well, I suppose I've had girlfriends my mother and Carlos liked more. It's ironic, really. I mean, if it weren't for you I'd probably still be with…"

"Who?" demanded Kylie, as he bit his lip to stem the final word of that sentence.

"No one."

"Oh, come on, tell me. It won't bother me, I promise."

"All right then," Eduardo conceded. "Bess."

"Who?"

"Bess."

"Who? Oh, wait – I remember Bess! One of that trio of misguided witches you were seduced into joining, wasn't she? Wow. You liked her all that much, huh?"

"Yeah, I liked her," Eduardo confessed.

"But you finished with her way before anything happened between you and me."

"Yeah, well…" – he was no longer looking her in the eye.

"You told us it was because she met someone else."

"Yes, well, I was… lying. I broke up with her because I was in love with you. She never told me what she wanted – she always just followed me, and all I could think was that she was so different from you. And then one day I realised that whenever I was with her, I was just wishing she was you. Pretending she was you, even."

"What do you mean, like, in bed?" asked Kylie, intrigued.

"Sure," said Eduardo. "In bed, at the movies, the college cafeteria… everywhere! I felt like I was cheating on her."

"You never told me that."

"Well, I couldn't tell you at the time, obviously. And then later… I don't know, it just didn't seem important." He paused. "My mom really liked her. So did Carlos."

"So did you, apparently."

"Yeah," said Eduardo, "but I didn't love her."

He was beginning to get pins and needles from sitting on his heels for so long, but it was nothing to the urge he suddenly felt to kiss the woman beside him. He wanted to let her know how much their marrying meant to him, but it was the kind of thing that just couldn't be articulated without sounding soppy and corny. Some women, he knew, liked soppy and corny. He also knew that Kylie was not one of them.

The kiss had been going on for almost a minute when the knock came at the door. Eduardo didn't hear it but Kylie pushed him away, caught her breath and said, "That'll be Leonard. Can you go and let him in?" As she spoke she used the pad of her thumb to wipe streaks of black lipstick from his mouth.

Eduardo frowned slightly. "What am I supposed to say to him?"

"Hi, Leonard. Come on in. Thank you for coming. How have you been? This is my nephew Kevin and my daughters Conchita and Rose. Kylie will be out in a minute. Can I get you any- "

"Ok, ok, I'm going."

He rose to his full height and headed for the doorway. On his way out he saw that Kylie was reapplying her lipstick, as the original coat was now severely smudged. Catching her eye in the mirror, he said, "Not too old for it, then?"

"Ha!" said Kylie. "Probably. I'll stop when I'm thirty."

When Eduardo returned to the living room, he found that Kevin had already let Leonard in and was making the introductions. Eduardo deduced that Leonard had just met Rose, judging by Kevin's apologetic tone as he said, "It's nothing personal – she's just not good with people."

Rose toddled out from behind the sofa and attached herself firmly to Eduardo's left leg. She had got dressed, all by herself, and was wearing a hand-me-down black sweater and jeans. Bizarrely she seemed to like black (her parents had had no idea it was genetic), while her sister favoured pink; Rose liked to play with Kylie's makeup, whereas Conchita preferred her aunt Beth's. A lot of people shook their heads and wondered how two children from the exact same gene pool, being raised in the exact same environment, could be so different. But Eduardo was not surprised. He liked to think that no two people were more dissimilar than himself and his brother.

"Eduardo, hi!" Leonard approached and extended his hand, which Eduardo graciously shook. "Wow, it seems like such a long time."

"It's been almost nine years," Eduardo pointed out.

"Wow, so it has. So I guess I was right about you and Kylie after all, huh? I'm so glad you're both happy. It's nice. Your daughters are beautiful."

"Um… thanks."

"I'm really flattered that Kylie asked me to come to your wedding. I mean, if Kevin and I are the only witnesses… that makes me feel kind of special. I'd have liked to go to my own kids' weddings, but obviously it's too late for that… I mean, it's never going to happen now, is it?"

"Um…"

Fortunately Kylie appeared at that moment, and greeted Leonard with a warm hug that made Eduardo feel extremely uncomfortable. He knew he shouldn't feel that way – after all, Kylie was about to marry him – but he just couldn't help it.

"Loco," muttered Rose. "Qué trágico."

Eduardo laughed, and tousled her already untidy black hair. "Si, querida."

"Right," said Kylie, once she had accepted Leonard's praise of her home, her children and her life. "We'd better think about going. The bathroom's back there, Leonard," she added, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

Leonard wandered obediently towards the bathroom, and Kylie immediately pulled Kevin and Eduardo – who still had Rose clinging onto him – to one side.

"Guys, do me a favour," she murmured furtively. "If you should ever happen to talk to my dad about this, and he asks who was my guest, just tell him it was a friend of mine – don't tell him too much about Leonard."

Kevin looked slightly scared. "I'm in way over my head here, aren't I?" he said.

"It's no big deal," Kylie said breezily. "I just wouldn't want him to think I have – I don't know – like, a substitute dad or anything. Ok?"

"Ok," said Kevin.

"Sure," said Eduardo. "If that's what you want. I'll go call a cab."

While he did that, Kylie went through the usual argument with Rose, who insisted that she didn't need to use the bathroom (Conchita, being that much more mature than her sister, was usually willing to try).

"So," Leonard said to Kylie, when Eduardo had taken over trying to persuade Rose just to go to the bathroom and see if anything happened (she had taken up her usual trick of annoying her mother by answering in Spanish). "You're not taking any notice of that superstition about the bride and groom seeing each other before the wedding?"

Kylie shrugged. "I don't see what difference it can make to our future. I don't believe in bad luck. Besides, it would have been too much hassle. One of us would have had to spend the night with somebody else. How dumb would that be?"

"And no bouquet throwing either?"

"Ah. No. My children will be the only women present, and I don't want to do anything to jeopardise their freewill in the future. You see, that one actually works."

Leonard blinked. "It does?"

"Seems to. Like, you remember Janine? She got lumbered with the bouquet at Dr. Venkman's wedding, and then she married this nerdy little guy in glasses. It didn't work out in the end, and she married Egon, and guess who ended up with the damn thing at that one."

"You?"

"Right. And no other women who were at that wedding have got married since. Go figure. And it's an outdated tradition anyway. Like women are all desperate to marry. I mean, come on – it's on a par with being given away by your father."

x x x

Constantine was not usually one to follow, and she didn't like this one little bit. She rose onto her toes, attempting to see between the shoulders of Sally and Sally's father. She soon caught sight of her brother standing at the altar, and she waved. In exchange she received a severe look, and then she tensed as she felt a hand on her arm. It was Sally's bratty little sister, of course – almost a mirror image of Constantine in her less than spectacular miniature of Sally's wedding dress.

As much as she hated being told what to do (with looks and gestures or otherwise), Constantine shifted her balance back onto the heels of her hugging shoes and began to follow Sally and her filthy rich father down the aisle. She could not, and nor did she want to suppress a small smile as Sally tripped slightly on the folds of her own dress.

"Dearly beloved," the priest began, in agonisingly slow tones, and Constantine yawned widely. She was shot another disapproving look by her brother.

"…Do you, Wolf-Christian Slaymaker, take this woman, Sally Ann Wells…?"

At this rate it would never end. Constantine kept her dark eyes on Sally's pale, smiling, veil-covered face.

"If any persons here present…"

Constantine's eyes flickered onto the people in the pews. On one side, her family and the friends she and Wolf-Christian had had thrust upon them. On the other, those awful people who were offloading their even worse relative onto her family.

"…speak now, or forever hold their peace."

No one spoke. Constantine had expected this, but still she expelled a loud sigh of frustration. Everyone in the church shot her a sharp look, including the priest. She flashed them all a synthetic smile of apology.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

x x x

"Can you make it quick?" Kylie asked the judge quietly, as the four guests made themselves as comfortable as possible on the uncomfortable wooden chairs. "Only, our little girl is going to get bored and start grizzling soon."

"Um, all right," the judge agreed. He was still a little bit amazed by Kylie's choice of bridal wear.

Kylie looked over her shoulder. Kevin had already taken Rose onto his lap, and she was playing with the fingers clasped round her waist with a sulky expression on her face. Conchita, thankfully, looked all right. She was chatting to Leonard.

The judge obliged Kylie by running comparatively quickly through the traditional wedding vows, which had already been shortened considerably at the bride's request (Eduardo had said he didn't mind as long as they ended up married). "Obey" had been the first one to go, followed by most of the remaining verbs.

"There's no point," Kylie had insisted. "We know we're going to do all of that stuff – why bother reciting it like, like a poem or something? Anyway it's lost its meaning now. Almost half of all marriages end in divorce these days, you know."

"I know," Eduardo said dryly.

"Hey. I'm not saying ours is going to. I'm just saying, you know, those words are tainted. They don't mean anything. I mean, God, my parents said them and obviously didn't mean them. It just wouldn't feel right for me to say it to you."

"Yeah, well, it seems to be fashionable to write your own vows these days."

"Oh yeah? What would you say?"

"No idea."

"Me neither. And anyway it's tacky."

"True."

The judge didn't really have a great deal to remember for this particular wedding, or such was Kylie's opinion, so she was quietly rather furious when, at the end of the short ceremony, he completely forgot (or else outright disrespected) her wishes by proclaiming, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

"Husband!" fumed Kylie, when they stood outside some ten minutes later, all the relevant parties having signed the register. "I now pronounce you husband and wife! What's so hard about that? I want my money back!"

"Babe, come on," reasoned Eduardo. "The guy married us – that's what we paid for."

"He did it wrong," Kylie said sulkily.

"What's wrong with 'man and wife'?" Leonard asked innocently.

Kylie scowled at him. "What do you mean what's wrong with man and wife? It's sexist, that's what's wrong with it! It's an outmoded concept! It has connotations."

"What connotations?" Leonard pressed.

"Well," said Kylie, indicating Eduardo, "he still gets be himself, and I'm just his wife. I feel extremely marginalised."

"Does it really matter, Mommy?" Conchita asked soothingly.

"On one level, honey, yes, it does," Kylie told her. "Because a very long time ago, before you were born, marriage was a contract of ownership whereby a woman's father gave her to a younger man so she could look after his house and have his babies, and she became his property."

"Come on, Kylie, that was before even I was born," reasoned Leonard.

"It was," Kylie agreed, still looking at Conchita; "but many of the traditions used in weddings to this day are left over from those times, like the bride's father giving her away, which I think you probably noticed didn't happen. And the judge, or the priest, or whoever saying, 'I now pronounce you man and wife' is another. Which did happen. Even though I didn't want it to. Because it's totally sexist."

"But on another level, Chita," Eduardo jumped in, "they're just words, and the important thing is that Mommy and I are now married."

"So what happens now?" demanded Rose.

"Lunch, I think," Kylie decided. "Are you hungry, Rosie?"

"Yes."

"Where would you like to go?"

"Pizza Hut."

Kylie looked at Leonard and Kevin. "Anyone feel like going to Pizza Hut?"

x x x

"That," said Leonard, when they were all settled and eating their pizza, "was the strangest wedding I've ever been to."

"It's the only wedding I've ever been to," said Kevin.

"Me too," said Conchita.

"I hate weddings," Rose decided on the spot.

"I'm sorry, honey." Kylie ran a hand over her younger daughter's hair. "We'll never get married again, I promise."

"This is pretty unusual too," remarked Leonard, "as wedding receptions go. Aren't you guys having a honeymoon or anything?"

"We just spent two weeks vacationing in Mexico," said Kylie. "And Chita's got school next week. I don't think we'll bother."

Kevin returned to this remark only after the meal was over, Leonard had excused himself and Kylie had taken the girls to the restroom (even though Rose absolutely did not need to go) in preparation to leave.

"Are you ok with not having a honeymoon?"

Eduardo looked at him. "Why do you keep asking me if I'm ok with all of this?"

Kevin shrugged. "I'm just worried that you're not getting what you want."

"Kevin, what I want is to be married to her. And I am."

"Oh. Ok then." He paused. "But I'll bet this wasn't how you imagined your wedding day, though, was it?"

"I never imagined my wedding day, Kev. I'm not a girl."

"Didn't you?" asked Kevin. "You never thought about it?"

"Not about the wedding, no," said Eduardo. "Just about what would happen afterwards. You know – a nice big TV, three-piece suite, a kid…"

"Just one kid?"

"Yes."

"You only wanted one kid?"

"For a while."

"So it was Kylie's idea to have Rose?"

"Initially it was, yes."

"Didn't you want her?"

"Of course I wanted her."

Eduardo suddenly remembered how Kylie had been the week before Rose's due date: uncharacteristically nervy and indecisive. She had been unable to enjoy her twenty-fifth birthday; she was a day overdue to give birth, and anxious to get it over with while almost hoping that the time wouldn't come at all (illogical as that was).

"I forgot all about the pain as soon as Chita was out and I was holding her," Kylie had said. "But then yesterday I remembered it. I don't want to go through labour again."

They had gone to sleep that night as usual, and both been woken at six o'clock in the morning by the cold, damp touch of amniotic fluid. Eduardo had phoned Beth, who had driven them to hospital and taken Conchita; then Kylie had reverted to her usual self and just got on with it. Eduardo never did understand why she kept refusing the midwife's offer of an epidural. She had explained her reasons, which he had thought sounded a bit hippie (basically, as far as he could tell, she wanted it to be as natural as she could bear), but he supposed if they made sense to her that was all that mattered.

Rose had arrived after an eight-hour labour, and had apparently been slightly easier to push out than Conchita (as well as being five hours faster). Kylie had learnt for the second birth that the easiest way for her to do this was, strangely enough, to kneel on the floor. Eduardo remembered her futile efforts the first time around as she knelt on the hospital bed, her arms clasped tightly around his waist and Conchita going nowhere in spite of the midwife's insistence that Kylie was fully dilated.

"Absolutely no forceps," Kylie said adamantly when the contraction was over, she had practically pushed her eyes out of her head and the baby hadn't budged an inch. "I just can't do it up here."

She then made her way onto the cold, hard floor and asked Eduardo to sit on the edge of the bed. Then, feeling the first waves of that ridiculously intense pain, she leaned forward onto his lap and dug her nails into his elbows as the contraction overwhelmed her. This time, thankfully, she felt the baby moving in response to her efforts.

"I think Mom might have wanted to have more kids," said Kevin, bringing Eduardo back to the present. "Dad once told me that they probably would have had another if I'd been a girl, but as I was a boy they didn't, because he only really wanted a son. Oh God." He suddenly collapsed forward onto the table. "He's going to kill me."

"Kev, what is this terrible news?" asked Eduardo. "Please tell me."

"No, no, I can't. Please don't make me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Anyway." Kevin sat up again. "Kylie likes making decisions, doesn't she? Mom never makes decisions like that. Your marriage isn't going to be anything like Mom and Dad's, is it?"

"All marriages are different, Kev."

"I used to wonder why you liked her so much. It always struck me that she wasn't much like the other girls you brought home."

It was probably true, but Eduardo didn't think any of his past girlfriends had been that similar anyway. It was almost as though he had been trying out different types until he found the one he wanted (though he wouldn't dare say that out loud – it sounded terrible). Kylie, he had known for some months before even letting her know his feelings, was definitely that one. He couldn't help smiling as she emerged from the ladies' with their two beautiful, wonderful, precious daughters. In spite of the rather casual way they were doing this, he was finding the day very emotional, and was again transported back in his mind to the scenario of Conchita's birth.

"Ok, that's the head out," the midwife said brightly.

Kylie lifted her head slowly from Eduardo's lap and said, in a voice that just seemed to epitomise exhaustion, "You mean I'm not done yet?"

"Just one more big push," the midwife said encouragingly, "when you feel another contraction."

"Great," muttered Kylie.

She looked up at Eduardo and managed a small smile. Eduardo lifted a hand to push back her hair, which was plastered to her forehead with sweat.

"One more contraction," said Kylie. "I guess I can handle that." Several seconds passed. "So where the hell is it?"

The seconds ticked by. Afterwards Kylie always said it seemed like at least ten minutes, maybe more. To Eduardo it seemed like five, but the midwife assured them that it was only two and a half. Then suddenly he felt Kylie's grip on his elbows tighten as she said, with a distinct note of fear in her voice, "Oh, here it comes!"

Eduardo couldn't help wondering if anyone else ever gave birth like this. Television had convinced him that all women gave birth lying on their backs; but then in recent months antenatal classes had taught him that this was an old-fashioned way of doing things and it had now been realised, by some clever person, that it was better to squat, kneel, sit or stand and "have everything pointing down", as Kylie had once put it. But, unlike most (presumably), she was on the floor. The midwife was practically lying down, her head very nearly on the tiles and her hands poised to catch the baby.

And then, quite suddenly, it happened. Kylie let out a small scream, followed by a huge sigh of relief as her baby fell into the midwife's hands. Conchita (as she had not yet been named) cried straightaway, which was a relief to everyone. She was passed between Kylie's legs in a most undignified manner. Eduardo, mesmerised, seemed to float to the floor as he gazed at the tiny red screwed-up face of their baby girl.

"Oh my God!" Kylie was in tears, which she had never expected. "I had a baby!"

Eduardo couldn't help laughing at that. Then suddenly a pair of really bizarre looking scissors (he didn't know their technical name, though he was sure they must have had one) was thrust into his hands and the midwife asked brightly, "Mr. Rivera, would you like to cut the cord?"

"Um, ok."

They were still on the floor while Eduardo, under the midwife's suffocatingly close supervision, performed this little ritual. He and Kylie then gazed down at their baby for several minutes before both of them finally snapped back to reality. Kylie let the midwife take her baby to clean her up, and climbed back onto the bed whilst apologising for the mess on the floor. Eduardo, meanwhile, went to phone Beth, his mother, Kylie's father and finally the gathering of their colleagues at the firehouse anxiously awaiting news of the delivery.

With Rose, they had gone through the same sitting/kneeling/lying ritual again (this time with a different midwife, who had not got on with Kylie at all for various reasons), and the same moment of utter euphoria. Kylie seemed almost as stunned to have had this baby as she had been the first time she did it.

"I don't think," she said, once the phone calls had been made and the cleaning up had been done, "I ever want to go through all that again."

"We don't have room for another one anyway," Eduardo pointed out.

"Were you hoping she'd be a boy?"

"No. I'm glad she's a girl. She and Chita won't mind sharing a room for however long, and they'll probably get on better than if she was a boy. And when they hit puberty you'll have to deal with it and I can pretend it's not happening."

"Hey!" The Kylie of the here and now was waving a hand in front of his face. "Are you with us?"

"Sorry." Eduardo snapped out of it. "What's happening now?"

"I want to go home and get changed," said Kylie. "Chita wants to go the firehouse and see everybody. You could take the girls and I could catch you up later, or we could all go home first if you'd rather."

"Actually," said Eduardo, taking Rose onto his lap, "I think what I'd like to do is go and break the news to Carlos. I want to get it over with."

"All right," said Kylie. "I'll take the girls – they won't want to witness that."

"Oh, come on, Dad's not nearly as bad as you make out," said Kevin.

"Yes, well," said Kylie. "Even so."

"Are you coming with me, Kev?" asked Eduardo.

"No, sorry, I won't," replied Kevin. "There's some stuff I want to do today."

"Ok." Eduardo nudged Rose to encourage her off his lap, and then stood up. "I guess I'll settle the bill as well. Bye, Kevin – thank you for coming."

"No problem." Kevin stood up as well, and hugged Eduardo affectionately. "I haven't said it yet, have I? Congratulations." He hugged Kylie as well, dwarfing her almost as much as his oversized father did. Then he stooped to hug his young cousins. "Bye, girls. I'll see you… sometime."

x x x

"I just want to talk to him," Constantine muttered irritably. "Can't she leave him alone for five minutes?"

"They're married now, dear," her mother pointed out.

"Exactly. They're going to be welded together for the rest of their lives."

"That isn't a nice way to talk about marriage, Constantine. I do wish you'd consider it for yourself."

"Do you, Mother? I thought perhaps you named me Constantine because you wanted me to stay chaste. Ah!"

She moved away from her mother as soon as she saw that someone else – some man she didn't even bother looking at – had Sally's attention.

"Congratulations, Wolf," Constantine said insincerely.

"Thank you, Connie," her brother replied.

"How are you feeling?"

"Ecstatic."

"Right." There was a strained silence. "Good."

"Connie, she's family now," Wolf-Christian said reasonably. "You must try to get along with her."

"Who is that man she's plastered herself onto?" asked Constantine.

"Her cousin Joseph. He's a very nice man, Connie. You might like him."

"Like him enough to marry him, you mean?"

"You never know."

"Constantine!" and she suddenly found herself in Sally's crushing embrace. "Wasn't it a beautiful ceremony?"

"Yes, beautiful."

"I'm sorry you didn't catch the bouquet."

"I'm not."

"You and Kathy made beautiful bridesmaids."

Constantine, seeing now that her brother was distracted, hissed, "Sally, you don't have to put on this act for me. I can see right through you."

Sally blinked. "I don't know what you mean, Connie."

"Don't call me that. Listen – you're married to my brother now, so you can damn well keep your hands off the servants. All right?"

Sally scowled deeply. "You have no idea what you're talking about Constantine."

"You shouldn't make faces like that, dear. You'll ruin your flawless complexion."

x x x

"Kylie, hi, welcome back!" As ever, Janine Spengler was on the front line. "Hi, girls. How was your vacation?"

"It was really good," said Kylie.

"Good. Where's Eduardo?"

"Funnily enough, he's gone to see Carl." Time for this conversation, then. "He's telling him that we got married this morning."

Janine's eyes widened. "You got what?"

"Married."

"Oh. Wow. Why didn't you…?"

"Tell anyone?" suggested Kylie. "We wanted to keep it low-key."

"I see."

"Is that so strange?"

"No, no," Janine said hastily. "Well. Congratulations. Ooh – do you want me to change your name on the employee records?"

"To what?" Kylie asked confusedly.

"Rivera. Unless you'd prefer something else."

"No thank you." Conchita got there first. "She's keeping her own name."

"She's right," Kylie confirmed. "I am."

"Oh," said Janine. "Well, would you like me to change Miss to Ms?"

"If it'll make you happy, Janine, but I'm not really bothered about that."

"You can't be Miss now that you're married."

"Why can't I?"

"Well, because… because Miss means you aren't married."

"Ah-ha," Kylie said dryly. "And Mrs. means you are married, and in this enlightened times Ms. either means you're no longer with the man whose name you've taken, or you're married and you're keeping your father's name. And yet men don't have this problem because they're always Mister, because whether or not you're married and whom you are married to is a woman's whole identity but has no bearing on the status or individuality of a man. It's not fair, is it?"

"It doesn't bother me," said Janine. "Don't you think, Kylie, that you're being a touch over analytical?"

Kylie shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. But the point is, my surname will never be anything but Griffin. So anyway, who's here? Are Garrett and Roland around?"

"Yes, upstairs."

"Great, thanks."

Conchita made for the stairs, but Rose for some reason refused to move, so Kylie picked her up and carried her (fortunately she didn't seem to mind). Kylie was barely at the top of the staircase before she was almost pushed back down it by something small and very fast cannoning into her legs and wrapping itself around them.

"What the…? Oh, hi," said Kylie, smiling slightly when she saw who was responsible, and setting Rose down on the floor.

"Oh," said Rose. "It's you."

The dark-haired, blue-eyed, absolutely adorable two-year-old boy seemed to miss the displeasure in her tone and fixed her with a charming smile. He then attempted to hug her, but was thwarted when she ducked out of the way, and so moved on to Conchita.

"Hello, Max," said Conchita, returning the embrace. "How are you?"

Kylie manoeuvred her way around the three small children and made her way into the rec room where, as promised by Janine, she found her two friends and colleagues Roland Jackson and Garrett Miller.

"Did he bump into anything?" Garrett asked tentatively.

"Only my shins."

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't apologise."

"Did you hear the adoption's been finalised?" Roland asked brightly.

"Really?" Kylie looked at Garrett, genuinely thrilled by this news. "When?"

"Wednesday," said Garrett. "All signed and sealed and final. They can't take him away from us now no matter what we do to him. Well, within reason."

"Wow, that's great, congratulations!" She went over and hugged him, stooping only slightly; in his wheelchair, he about reached her chin.

"Yeah, I'm so relieved," said Garrett. He still had one eye on his brand new son. Not that he could do much if Max did decide to indulge in his little hobby of running into anything that happened to be in his way. "We were a bit worried they might not let us keep him. He's absolutely covered in bruises – you should see him with his clothes off. I can say stuff like that now that I'm his father," he added proudly.

"Yeah," said Kylie, looking over her shoulder at the former Max Sanford, now Maxwell Nicholas Miller ("so his initials would be M.N.M"). Garrett and his wife Jo had obviously had fun picking out all that miniature sportswear for him. "So how are things at home? He's settled and everything?"

"Yeah, he loves it. He probably doesn't even remember life before us."

"Just as well." Kylie knew it hadn't been pleasant.

"My mom and dad only really see him on weekends," Garrett went on, "which isn't ideal. I think Mom's a bit jealous – he's getting on great with Jo's family. Her mother can't get enough of him, and he just loves Alex and Scott and McEnroe."

This wasn't surprising. McEnroe was the excitable mongrel belonging to Jo's family (he had been named by her two younger brothers, who were both totally fanatical about tennis), and Max was exactly the kind of child who got on with dogs. Actually, Kylie thought, he was a lot like a puppy himself in many ways.

As to Alex and Scott Kendall, they were Jo's fair-haired, bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, always smiling, outgoing, athletic, all-American teenage brothers. As a general rule they got on well with pretty much anyone, as did Max (regardless of whether the feeling was mutual). Besides this, Kylie knew how fond aunts and uncles could be of their nieces and nephews. Eduardo, in spite of his extremely shaky relationship with Carl, thought Kevin was wonderful.

As to Carl, even he got on well with his nieces. Fairly well, anyway. He liked Conchita because he liked well-mannered children, and he was grudgingly fond of Rose, Kylie could tell. On the face of it they didn't get on, but he got pretty mad if anyone spoke badly of her.

After giving birth to Conchita, Kylie had felt very ill, and later she often wondered whether she had misremembered Carl's reaction to the arrival of his first niece. She vaguely remembered staggering into the hospital room from the bathroom, having just been spectacularly sick whilst in the middle of taking a shower. She had sensed people in the room, but had to climb onto the bed and take a few sips of water before she was able to register the familiar features of Beth, Kevin and Carl.

"Beth," she croaked, her throat aching from all that throwing up. "Am I supposed to feel this ill?"

"I think it varies, honey," Beth said sympathetically.

"She lost quite a bit of blood," Eduardo explained, touching Kylie's arm. "Conchita tore her a little bit on the way out – didn't she, babe?"

Kylie nodded. "She certainly did."

Then she noticed that Carl was holding Conchita. It wasn't that she couldn't be bothered to locate her baby upon returning to the room; she had just assumed, somehow, that Beth would have her. Was that sexist, to assume she'd be with the only woman in the company? Well, Kylie reasoned, the way she was feeling right now was a legitimate excuse for anything.

"Carlos," said Eduardo. "You done with her yet? Only I think Ky wants her back."

It was true. The urge Kylie was feeling to hold her baby was just overwhelming, and she realised that she was looking longingly at the tiny white bundle in Carl's arms. It was sweet of Eduardo to notice. She almost felt like crying. What was that about?

"Hmm?" Carl looked up. "Yeah, yeah, sure." He carried Conchita over to Kylie, and slipped the newborn into her arms. "She's beautiful."

"Um." She'd never heard Carl speak that way before. "Yeah, she's gorgeous."

Conchita had been a vocal baby, always gurgling and making contented little noises. She had smiled a lot too, though for the first few weeks of her life most people said it was "just wind". Not Carl, though. He seemed to bond with her straightaway. Interestingly, though, he hadn't got off to such a flying start with Rose.

Kylie, the moment after she'd pushed Rose out of her body, had felt like a million dollars. When they were moved out of the delivery room, she had pulled on the jeans and oversized sweater she'd worn throughout most of her pregnancy and announced that she just had to go and stretch her legs. Only then did she realise just how ill she'd felt after having Conchita. Now she felt ready to take a bus or the subway or even walk home, and maybe stop off at the supermarket or something on the way.

She went for a little walk around the hospital, but soon felt the lure of her new baby. When she returned, she found that Eduardo's family was already there, Conchita (then not quite three) with them. Again it was Carl who was holding the baby.

"Hi!" Kylie said brightly. "Hello, sweetheart! I've missed you!" She stooped and gave Conchita a crushing hug. "So you've met your baby sister. Isn't she gorgeous?"

"She's crying," said Carl.

There was no denying that. Rose, in her first hour of life, had cried rather a lot. Kylie strode over to Carl, took Rose from him and sat on the hospital bed.

"I'll stick a nipple in her mouth," she said bracingly. "That shut her up the last time."

Carl and Kevin looked away awkwardly as Kylie whipped out her left breast and Rose latched on. Now, two-and-a-half years later, though Kylie was enjoying watching her daughters grow up, breast-feeding was something she really missed. She looked wistfully down at Conchita and Rose, the former indulging Max in a game involving a blue foam ball while the latter watched disapprovingly.

"See that?" Garrett beamed proudly, as Max caught the ball expertly in both hands. "How many two year olds have hand-eye coordination like that?"

"Yeah, so, anyway," said Roland. "How was your vacation?"

"Good," said Kylie, wondering exactly how many times she would have to have this conversation. She planned later to take the girls to see her father, who had moved to Manhattan earlier in the year. God, she would have to tell him she was married now. Yikes. "We had a lot of fun. Didn't we, girls?" she added.

"Yes," Conchita confirmed. Rose chose to withhold her opinion. "Tell them what you and Daddy did this morning, Mommy."

Without knowing why, Kylie said, "You tell them, Chita."

"They got married."

Garrett and Roland both stared at Kylie for a moment, and then asked in perfect unison, "You got what?"

"Married," Kylie said patiently.

"Why?" asked Garrett.

"Why not?"

"Fair enough."

"Why didn't you tell us about it before?" asked Roland.

"Before it happened?" Kylie shrugged. "There was nothing to tell. We only invited a couple of people, so don't be offended or anything. We just wanted to keep it low-key."

"So are you having a party?" Garrett asked eagerly.

"Um… I hadn't thought of it."

"Jo and I are planning one to celebrate the adoption. You can share if you like."

"Thanks," said Kylie. "Roland, why are you so quiet?"

"I'm not quiet," argued Roland. He approached Kylie and embraced her warmly. "Congratulations."

"Don't congratulate her, Roland," Garrett deadpanned. "You aren't supposed to congratulate the woman."

"What?" Roland and Kylie asked in unison.

"You're only supposed to congratulate the man," Garrett told them matter-of-factly. "On procuring himself a good wife."

Kylie wrinkled her nose. "Where did you get that?"

"Something my grandmother says. It's wedding etiquette – you know, like the bride's parents inviting all the guests."

"So what, I don't deserve congratulations? That's stupid."

"It doesn't matter about you, Kylie," Garrett grinned annoyingly. "You're only a woman. You're just somebody's wife now – he's the one who's gained something."

"So where is Eduardo anyway?" Roland finally voiced the obvious question.

"He's telling Carl we got married."

"Eduardo's own brother doesn't know?" asked Roland, astonished. "Who else haven't you told?"

"Everyone," said Kylie, "except you and Janine. And Kevin witnessed it for us."

"Egon and Ray are around," offered Roland. "And the twins, obviously." He was referring to Egon and Janine's seven-year-old children, John and Eden. "You can tell all of them."

"I'll tell them when I see them," shrugged Kylie. "I should go and tell my dad. O-oh, I don't want to tell my dad," she added, sitting down heavily on a nearby armchair.

Conchita looked up. "Why don't you want to tell Grandpa?" she asked.

"He might be upset that I didn't invite him."

"You didn't invite anyone," Conchita pointed out. "Well. Hardly anyone."

"True," Kylie conceded. "You'd like to go and see Grandpa, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," said Conchita. Again, Rose offered no opinion.

"Ok, sweetheart. I'll just nip and say hi to the grown-ups and then we'll go."

Kylie was even more apprehensive about this than she was letting on. She doubted now that her earlier assertion had been correct, when she told Eduardo that her father would not want to see her emulate the biggest mistake of his life. Steve Griffin knew as well as anyone that all marriages were different, and that his daughter was sensible enough not to marry the antithesis of the right person, as he had done. On reflection, Kylie realised, she probably should have asked him to witness her wedding. After all, he had moved to Manhattan to be closer to her and his granddaughters. He was hardly likely to find this latest news very encouraging.

Conchita and Rose had both been over a week old by the time Steve was able to come and meet them. He had felt very guilty about this when Conchita was born, and even guiltier when it was Rose, largely because she had been born on a Friday (Friday the thirteenth, in fact, which her parents thought was pretty cool) and there wasn't really any excuse for not getting away at the weekend.

When he had come to meet Conchita, Kylie was feeling much better than she had been, though still not a hundred percent, and she was trying to avoid sitting down as much as possible because it was extremely uncomfortable. Even if it hadn't hurt less than labour but more than period cramps, she wouldn't want to pop her stitches.

Steve, like most of her family members, was absolutely mesmerised by Conchita. Kylie vaguely wondered if that blissfully stunned look on his face in any way resembled his reaction when she had been born. It was a little while before he could even speak. Soon enough, however, Conchita was back with her mother and Eduardo was bringing Steve a cup of coffee.

"How did you cope with the labour?" Steve asked, after a few minutes of small talk.

"Um." Kylie, on her feet and walking Conchita around the room, looked at him. She hadn't expected him to ask that. "I don't know. I think I just got on with it."

"She coped really well," said Eduardo. "She even did the last part without any pain relief. Crazy, but impressive."

"Yeah, well, I didn't want to try taking the gas and air down there with me," shrugged Kylie. "And it doesn't touch the pain anyway. I think the midwife just stuck that tube in my mouth to stop me screaming."

"I'm glad you coped," said Steve. "I was a bit worried about it, to be honest."

Kylie frowned. "Why?"

"Well, Jill had a bit of trouble giving birth to you."

"So? I'm not Jill."

"I know, honey, but a lot of the problem was that she was small and you were a more or less average sized baby, believe it or not. You just didn't want to come out. She was pushing for well over an hour, and in the end - "

"Forceps, I know," Kylie interrupted. "Well, she never wanted me anyway."

"She did."

"Don't say that. She obviously didn't. I'll bet she was yelling at you the whole time, wasn't she? She always blamed you whenever I caused her any kind of distress."

"Yes, well," Steve said awkwardly. "It was all very new and scary – I probably didn't support her as well as I should have."

"I know you did the best you knew how to do," said Kylie. Then, indicating Eduardo, she went on, "I never once felt the urge to say anything negative to Eddie. He was so good. I don't think I could have done it without him there."

x x x

"Keep breathing, dear," said Constantine's mother. "And push when you feel another pain. Constantine, get to the end of the bed and catch the baby when it comes out."

Constantine blinked. "Do what?"

"Connie, please!" wailed Sally.

"Where in God's name is that midwife?" fumed Constantine, as she trudged reluctantly down to the more unpleasant end of the bed.

Sally started screaming again, and was urged by Constantine's mother to push. Constantine shrank back instinctively when the top of the baby's head started to appear.

"How are things going down there, Constantine?" her mother asked calmly.

"Um, all right, I think. The baby's…" She stopped when, following a piercing scream from Sally, the baby's whole head slid into view. "Sally! This baby is huge!"

"I… I know," panted Sally.

"How long have you been married to my brother?"

"Constantine, for goodness' sake!" snapped her mother. Then to Sally she said, "One more big push ought to do it."

"Mother!" exclaimed Constantine. "This baby is not premature!"

Sally's face was beginning to contort with pain once again. She ground her heels and hands down into the mattress and cried, "Get her out of here!"

"Get out, Constantine," her mother ordered.

Constantine was only too happy to oblige. She marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her, and was immediately accosted by Wolf-Christian.

"Connie, what's happening?" he demanded anxiously. "Has she…?"

A prolonged, agonised scream came from inside the bedroom, followed by silence, followed by the indignant wail of Sally's newborn baby. Wolf-Christian suddenly seemed to see through his sister, and his eyes welled with tears. Constantine stormed past him and managed to turn the nearest corner just in time to avoid her mother.

"Wolf-Christian!" she heard, in warbling tones. "You have a daughter!"

"No," muttered Constantine, letting her feet take her anywhere as long as it was away from her family, "you don't."

She walked some way through the house, for several minutes, and then stopped suddenly. Just where had she managed to end up, anyway? She had kept going down, she realised, and was now standing outside the wine cellar.

Constantine's eyes narrowed on the door. Was it coincidence she had brought herself down here? She thought about turning back, but was gripped by the certain knowledge that the baby upstairs was not her niece.

If ever there was a time to go back in there, thought Constantine, this is it. And she pushed open the door.

To be continued…