Kitty....Pretty kitty.....

Fang: Yeah, your cat is nice. Now, make her go away.

Me: I love my kitty!

Fang: Psst!

Sasha (the kitty): -jumps away-

Me: -whacks Fang- You scared my kitty!

Fang: Your kitty keeps trying to bite me!

Me: Those are love bites!

Fang: Since when do you bite people you love?

Me: -bites Fang-

Fang: OWWW!! Saint! First, you let me burn my hand on the stove, then you bite me?!

Me: It was your own fault when you burnt your hand.

Fang: It was your fault for leaving boiling water on the stove!

Me: I was coming back to it!

Fang; Whatever...What'd you bite me for?

Me: It was a love bite!

Fang: That was a painful love bite.

Me: You won't be forgetting it, will you?

Fang: I wish I could.

Me: I guess we shall get on with the story, huh?

Fang: Let's.

Saint's POV

"Lollipop! Lollipop! Oh, lolli, lolli, lolli!"

Well, readers, guess who I'm working with today.

"Quil, if you can't stop singing, could you at least pick a different song? That one's annoyed me since I had to sing it in choir in ninth grade."

Quil shrugged. "Stacy's Mom, has got it goin' on!"

"Ok, Quil, now I'm disturbed."

"You're hot, then you're cold, you're yes, than you're no!"

I sighed. "You know what, Quil? Our meeting's just about over here, so how about we call it a day. I don't think we're going to get anywhere, anyway."

Quil nodded and stood up. "So long, farewell, auf Wiedersehen, adieu!"

"Yeah, yeah.." I grabbed my note/doodle pad and headed out the door, shaking my head. I didn't like to believe that any case was hopeless, but Quil's came pretty damn close.

I had started rushing off down the hall, hoping to get to the cafeteria before they ran out of chicken wings, when I stepped on something. Or, should I say, someone?

"Saint! Watch your step, you must!"

"Oh, sorry, Master Yoda. May the force be with you."

"And with you. Dress like a Sith, I see you still do."

I shrugged. "It's a fashion statement."

"Come to tell you, I have," Yoda continued. "A visitor for you, in your office, there is."

"Thank you, Master Yoda." I said, giving him a short bow.

He returned the bow. "Welcome, you are." He turned to leave.

"Oh, Master Yoda?"

He turned. "Yes?"

"If you're going down to the cafeteria, could you tell Fang to bring me up some chicken fingers?"

He nodded and continued on his way.

I changed direction and made a beeline for my office, dodging some very angry Cornish Pixies on the way. I rolled my eyes. "Could somebody do something about the pixies?!"

Of course, no one answered me. It might have had something to do with the fact that the pixies were attacking them and hanging them on the light fixtures, but it was still annoying. Hello, I own the place, I pass out the paychecks at the end of the week, so I don't care if you're hanging from a chandelier by your tighty-whities, answer me!

Just can't get good help these days.

I made it to my office and pulled out the key to the door. As I went to stick the key in the keyhole, however, it was slapped away.

I am now, officially, annoyed.

I crossed my arms.

Solla Sollew is not where I am.

For Key-Slapping Slippards, I don't give a damn!

So, little Slippard, I say So long!

Go back to Dr. Seuss stories, where you belong!

Grumbling, the Key-Slapping Slippard crawled out of my keyhole and scurried down the hall. Really, was there any Fictional Character I wasn't bothered by?

I got my door opened and walked in, going over to my desk and dropping my things down on the desk, right next to the stork.

....Wait, the stork?

"Ummm, Hello?"

"Hello, Saint. How are you today?"

A talking stork. I knew what that usually meant. "I'm fine, except for the fact that I mysteriously have a stork in my office."

The stork smiled. Don't ask how a stork can smile. "Well, yes, Saint, I do have a reason for being here..."

Oh, great. "Please don't tell me you're delivering a baby to one of my patients."

The stork shook his head.

"One of my employees?"

"No..."

I sighed. "It's Felicity and Cor, isn't it? I told Felicity no to-"

The stork held up his wing, cutting me off. "No, Saint, according to my delivery schedule, this one goes to you directly."

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

"I....believe there's been a mistake."

The stork pulled out his schedule and checked. "No, this one's your's."

"Ummm....Mr.....Stork, sir. It can't be mine."

"Why not?"

"Well, I believe you know what is....required to happen to.....'summon the stork'."

The stork pulled out his schedule again. "According to this the father is a.......Fang?"

I grabbed the schedule out of the stork's wing. "Oh....Oh, no."

The stork shrugged. "Well, Saint, these things happen when you're not careful.."

I shook my head. "No, that's not what I mean. Nothing happened. This is a joke from your higher-ups, isn't it?"

The stork shrugged again. "I just deliver them, ma'am."

"Alright, who made out this schedule, huh?"

"Eileithyia, Greek Goddess of Fertility, of course." the stork replied.

I rolled my eyes. "Of course." Eileithyia and I had this little 'Prank War' going on. Obviously, this was her idea of getting back at me for that last prank, which involved munchkins, tilapia, some embarrassing photos, and Zeus's last Wine Tasting Party.

"So, where shall I place the baby?" the stork asked.

"Back in your basket." I answered, walking over and sitting in my spinny chair. "I do not want a baby, I do not need a baby, I did nothing to get a baby, so I have no baby."

The stork shook his head. "Ah, no, Saint. That's not how it works. You take the baby from here. If you think there's been a mistake, you can make a complaint directly to my department. We're in the phonebook under 'childbearing'."

I gaped at him. "No way! The Stork Delivery System Hotline is slower than the DMV!"

The stork shrugged. "Your problem, not mine." He walked over and plopped a little baby into my arms. "Congratulations, it's a boy." He flew out the door.

Holding the baby with one arm, I reached over and grabbed my phone, pressing the button for my secretary.

"Yes, Buieruwen? I'm going to need a cradle, some baby formula, and a phonebook. Don't ask why."

This was going to be a long day.

Fang's POV

"I've got the chicken fingers you wanted." I said, trying to juggle to trays of food and open the office door at the same time.

"Shhh, Fang, I'm on the phone."

I sighed. "You're welcome." I said sarcastically, putting the food on the desk.

"WAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"

I jumped. "What the hell is that?!"

"Hold on." Saint said, covering the reciever of the phone. "That's Christian. There's formula next to the microwave over there. Feed him." She uncovered the phone. "As you can hear, we most definetely do have a baby here-........WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO SEND IN 'PROOF OF PURCHASE? I DIDN'T PURCHASE THE BABY!......And what extension do I have to dial now?"

As Saint continued her war against whoever was on the other line, I walked over to a cradle that had been set up in the corner of the room and saw a little, whimpering baby inside. What the heck is a baby doing in here? I reached over and pulled the baby out, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do, exactly.

Saint covered the reciever again. "Fang! That is not how you hold a baby! Support his head!"

I quickly shifted the baby around so I was supporting it's head. I hope. "Saint? Why is there a baby in here? Are we finally babysitting your niece?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's a boy, Fang. Now, feed him. I'm on the phone." She went back to her conversation. "I can't keep a baby around here! I.........I DON'T WANT TO CALL BACK TOMORROW! You stay on this phone, you.........BITCH!" She slammed down the reciever.

"Wow, Saint, angry?" I asked, trying to figure out how to grab the bottle and still hold the baby at the same time. Luckily, Saint came over and grabbed the baby and the bottle all at once.

"Yes, Fang, I'm angry. You want to know why?"

I shrugged. "I probably don't have a choice, so go for it."

"See this baby?"

I nodded. "Yeah..."

"It's ours."

I stared. "What is this, Saint, a prank?"

"Yep."

"Well, it's not a very-"

"It's a prank on me."

Now, I'm confused. "On you?"

She shrugged. "It's a long story. Basically, the stork, as a prank from my dear friend, Eileithyia, delivered this little baby to us."

"Us?" I asked. "As in 'You and Me' us?"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Fang. As in the Kool-Aid man and the Burger King us."

I wasn't exactly in the mood for sarcasm. "Saint, what are we supposed to do with a baby??!!"

"Feed it, take care of it, makes sure it survives, get it through high school, kick him out at 18, then go broke sending him to college and attend his wedding."

"Saint, we're not even...well....a couple or whatever!"

She sighed. "Then I guess you're paying child support."

"What?!"

"Really, Fang, only a deadbeat dad leaves their child's mother without a way to support her baby."

I crossed my arms. "Saint, could you be serious for a moment?"

She glared. "No, Fang. Not one second of my day today has been serious, and I don't feel like I should try to make it serious now. I am stressed, I have a migraine, so GIVE ME A BREAK!"

"WAAAHHHHHH!!!!"

Saint gasped. "Oh, Christian, I'm sorry!" She started trying to rock him, or bounce him or something.

"Saint, did...Christian come with that name?"

She shook her head. "I got sick of calling him 'the baby'."

"I think you're getting attached to him."

She rolled her eyes again. "Of course I am, Fang. I'm female, I'm homonal, and I'm a sucker for cute, cuddly babies." She held Christian out to me. "You should probably take him. Maybe you're immune."

I put my hands up. "Oh, no! I don't do babies!"

"Why not?"

"Simple. They cry, they smell funny, they're highly breakable..."

Saint shoved the baby into my arms. "At least put him down for a nap. I need to take a migraine med." She rushed out.

I looked down at my pseudo-son and sighed. "I am so sorry. At least you're in a therapy center. At the rate you're going, you'll need it by the time you're seven."

The little guy smiled at me.

And promptly spit up on me.

"Correction. We'll both need therapy."

Me: -whispering- We have to be quiet....Christian's sleeping....

Fang: Haven't you gotten through to the Stork Center place yet?

Me: They're on Holiday.

Fang: Damn...

Me: I know....

Fang: Uhhh....Saint? What if Max finds out?

Me: Sucks to be you, huh?

Fang: Rawr.

Me: -bites-

Fang: WHAT THE HECK?!

Me: Well, if we've got a kid, we might as well have more love bites!

Fang: WE'RE RETURNING THE BABY!

Christian: -wails-

Me: That was your fault. You yelled.

Fang: You bit me!

R&R? Trust me, it's better than listening to us fight.