A/N: One of the many things I miss about One Life to Live, and something I felt the show never took full advantage of when it was on, was the quasi-family unit of Layla, Cris, Oliver and Kyle (and Roxy, too!). Once the Sierra Rose story took off, the two couples were isolated from each other and the show seemed to forget they were all very good friends. I think that their lives should always be intertwined. So, a look into the future...
Layla Williamson Vega stretched, trying in vain to find a comfortable position. "Lord, it's hot. Who thought it was a good idea to do this in the summer, anyway?" She shot an accusatory glare to the man perched on the porch railing. He smiled, dark eyes warm and amused.
"Sorry," he offered with a notable lack of sincerity. She huffed out a breath and shifted again, hoping to ease the ache in her back. The swing she was sitting on creaked loudly and she scowled fiercely. She hardly needed commentary from furniture!
"Last time, we timed it perfectly," she declared irritably, not for the first time. "September to May – no being pregnant in freaking August. This is hell."
"I know," he answered, also not for the first time. "Just a few more weeks."
She growled, low in her throat. A few more weeks was an eternity, of course he didn't understand that. Men!
"I'm sorry," he said again, this time with genuine sympathy. He slid off the railing with his most charming smile. "How about a foot rub?"
She forgave him instantly. "Oooh, yes!" She lifted a sore and swollen foot in his direction and wiggled her toes. He grinned and knelt at her feet.
As he massaged, she let her head fall back, eyes closed, and felt some of her tension bleed away. The heat was still oppressive and the cotton of her maternity dress clung damply to her skin, but for the first time in too long she began to relax.
"At least your son is taking it easy today," she murmured, letting her hands rest on her belly, whose occupant did in fact seem to be resting instead of engaging in the usual gymnastics. "I'm pretty sure he's going to be a soccer player like his sister."
He grinned. "She'll love that. It'll do her a world of good to have a sibling. I think it's kind of lonely, being an only child. I know Ol-"
As if in response, the soft babble of little girl voices in the background rose to a high-pitched shriek.
Layla opened her eyes and glared out into the yard, as annoyed by the interruption of her foot massage as with whatever squabble had broken out. "What's going on?" she called.
"She won't let me use the purple!"
"She broke it! Dad, look-"
"Everything's fine."
This last was spoken in a much lower register and with much less outrage. From his spot on the grass, "supervising" the huge sidewalk chalk project undertaken by the two girls, Cristian Vega grinned back at those on the porch. "Just an artistic difference of opinion." He laid a hand on his daughter's small shoulder, both to sooth and in case she flung herself at her companion.
"Sierra, your chalk is fine," the older girl's father told her. "You know you need to share." Sierra Rose still looked highly indignant about her broken purple chalk, but subsided at her father's pointed look.
"Okay," she said, a little sulkily. She shoved the largest broken piece across the sidewalk. "Here, you can use it."
Layla eyed her own daughter. Pilar still seemed inclined to either burst into tears or howl with fury, but she picked up the chalk, looked at it suspiciously for a moment, and suddenly transformed into a bubbly toddler again. "Kay!" she cried happily. "Thank you," she added, when Cris prompted her.
Layla leaned back again, ignoring her husband's quirked eyebrow in her direction. She was well aware of his theory on where Pili had inherited her lightning-quick changes in mood, thank you very much. She poked Kyle's calf with her foot. "Hey, what happened to my foot rub?"