Author's Notes: Sorry it's taken me so long to get this up. I'm not quite sure if I like where this story's going, and I was hesitant to post this. But I couldn't come up with something better, so here's the next bit. Read, enjoy, and review, please, because that makes me happy.

Oh, and if you're into Teatime (which you probably are or you wouldn't be reading this), I've made a community that has everything my sister and I have written on him, as well as a few favorites that others have. If you know of good fanfictions involving that wonderfully psychotic Assassin, do let me know, and feel free to stop by and check it out (you can get to it from my profile)!

***

CHAPTER SIX

Much Ado About Baby

(being kidnapping, rescuing, and – even worse! – arguing about names)

***

The Baby didn't understand half as much as she let on. She couldn't quite make out words, and she had a hard time telling them apart from one another. But she understood her parents' tones of voice very well, and she had gathered that they didn't like one another very much. Or rather, that for some unknown reason, her mother was very angry with her father.

That made the Baby sad and very confused, too. Her daddy was simply beautiful, and he had that wonderful smile. He knew exactly how to tickle her, and he had very interesting eyes. They were wonderful, because they were so different from normal ones. She hoped that one day she'd have eyes just like him. And her daddy was silly. He had a cheerful, happy voice that made her feel like everything was going to be okay(1). So she didn't understand why her mommy was so upset with him.

The Baby loved her mommy very much, too, of course. She loved how she read to her all the time, she loved how she would list off silly names for her, she loved how she grumbled and stalked back and forth. She loved her pretty hair, and hoped that her hair would be just like her mommy's when she grew up. She didn't like how her mother screamed all the time, and she vowed to be careful about that as she aged, but her dear, sweet(2) mommy must have a very good reason for it.

The Baby sighed. Life was so confusing, and from what she could tell she'd only just started. How was she going to navigate this big bad world? She felt like crying. Yes, she should do that. She should wake up her mommy and get her to hold her and comfort her, maybe even read for a while, and then maybe everything would be alright.

The Baby opened her mouth to scream, when a middle aged man leaned over her cradle. She opened her eyes wide and cocked her head curiously at the man above her. She wondered if she should be frightened, but then noticed his black and empty eyes. One of her father's eyes was black and empty, and if this man looked anything like her father he must be safe. So the Baby didn't scream. She just looked up curiously as the man put a finger to his lips.

"...?" the Baby asked curiously.

Fate shook his head.

"Let's grow you up a notch, shall we? I don't think you're going to come very well like this. I've never much liked babies."

The Baby furrowed her brow in confusion. She wished she could decipher this man's tone like she could her parents, or simply know what he meant like she could with her great-grandfather. Suddenly, she felt herself shifting, her hair growing, her legs bunching up as the cradle and everything else shrunk around her. The Baby sat up, looking around as the bassinet crushed and crashed under her new weight, and suddenly she knew.

"Who are you, and why did you make the world shrink? I want my mommy! I want my daddy!" the not-quite-Baby said indignantly, crossing her arms as she sat in the rubble of her bassinet. "And give Daddy his eye back!"

So this man had to be bad. He'd stolen her daddy's eye so he could look as safe and protecting as her father did so she wouldn't scream. The Baby glared at him terribly.

"Have they picked out a name for you yet?" the god asked, kneeling in front of her and meeting her white eyes.

"I'm not Abigail!" she harrumphed.

"Most definitely. How would you like to go see your daddy, little one?"

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Mommy says I'm to stay away from Daddy unless he visits."

"I can go if you like," Fate replied in a low voice. "But your daddy really wants to see you."

"He sent you to come and get me?" the Baby asked apprehensively. "Is that why he gave you his eye?"

"Yes, exactly why."

"And you'll take me back right away? Mommy was going to read me a story in the morning. I wanted to see if I was right about the murderer. You see, it had to be Sir Sculley because he's the only one who would know how to cut open the four chambers of a human heart – " the Baby began.

Fate pursed his lips as the description grew more morbid, and he found himself wondering exactly what kind of murder mysteries this girl read (or rather, had read to her).

"I'll take you back the moment you want to come."

The Baby's hair shifted around her head thoughtfully. It looked as if it were floating in water before mostly settling down around her shoulders in a mess of curls. It did move slightly, though – as if in a gentle breeze.

Her white eyes bore intensely into Fate's black ones, and she grew thoughtful. At last, she grinned a sweet, maniacally friendly smile.

"Alright, please do take me to see my daddy." She nodded before leaning forwards dramatically, "I've missed him so much."

Fate returned her smile with a small smirk and lifted the little girl (who in appearance seemed just shy of four years old)into his arms before he snapped away.

(1)Often what he was saying was something along the lines of 'Don't you think it would be fun to cut open cadavers, count their ribs, and see how many out of ten have less than the average of the others?', but his tone was almost always very bright and friendly.

(2)Only her daughter could ever attach the word 'sweet' to Susan Sto-Helit.

*

"See, it makes perfect sense. If you let me into Mr. Artson's apartment, then you can go home and see this daughter you're telling me about. But if you don't, you might never see anything again. So why don't you tell me; why on the disc wouldn't you let me in, Henry?" Teatime argued logically to the trembling man before him, cocking his head curiously.

"What if someone in there gets hurt because I – "

"Oh, why would you worry about that? It's not as if you'll hurt anyone. In fact, all you would be doing would be moving a single object and twisting it. How can that mean anything? I have a daughter, too, so I know how much you want to see yours. The sooner you do this the sooner you can go... home."

Henry glanced apprehensively at the knife at his throat.

"Daddy?" a sweet voice asked curiously.

Both men's heads snapped around to see a little girl approximately four years old. She had huge, off-white eyes with some of the tiniest, pinhole pupils. Her lips were wide and thin, but very well defined. She had curly hair that waved around her head like a halo; it was all white save for a black streak. She was deathly pale, but her face was round and her cheeks plump. Her lips were almost white. She wore a black dress with a black sash around her waist, which made her look even paler than she was. She had her arms crossed and looked very much like Susan until she grinned charmingly. It was an eerie grin, and Teatime's eyes widened in pride and excitement as he recognized it.

"You're a little bigger than when I last saw you, Susanette," the Assassin said, his eyes glued to his daughter as he absently strangled the man behind him with one hand.

"What are you doing, Daddy?" the Baby asked. "And Mommy doesn't like it when you call me that."

"What shall I call you then, since your mother doesn't want me to call you Stella?" he asked curiously as Henry clawed at his hand in desperation. "And I'm working."

The Baby sighed, shaking her head sadly. Susan would have been terribly unnerved had she been there, the gesture was so similar to one you might find the crazed Assassin himself doing.

"I suppose you can call me that." She smiled brightly, "I actually rather like it. But when did the man give you your eye back?"

"What man?" Teatime asked as Henry slumped, unconscious. The Assassin kneeled before his daughter and cocked his head.

"He made me bigger, Daddy. He said you sent him to get me."

"That's funny," the Assassin said thoughtfully. "I never did that."

The Baby stuck out her lower lip as her eyes watered. "You don't want me, Daddy?" she asked shrilly.

"Shh..." Teatime said softly, stroking her cheek and watching her hair shift about his fingers like static. "I always want to see you, Susanette. If you ever, ever, ever need me just come and find me. I promise I'll want you there."

"Really?" she asked hopefully.

"Really." The Baby smiled, but this time it was a small one, cracking her crying face. It didn't show any teeth, and Teatime couldn't help but see Susan in her. "You look just like your mother, Susanette. That's her name, you know. Susan."

"I like that name. Could I have it, too?"

Teatime shook his head.

"There'll only ever be one Susan. Let's keep it that way." He cocked his head, a slow smirk drawing across his face as he gazed into his daughter's huge eyes. "You are such a pretty girl, Susanette. Such a pretty girl. But why are you so big?"

"The man who has eyes like that one – " she pointed at Teatime's black glass eye, her finger barely a quarter of an inch away, yet somehow managing not to touch it. The Assassin didn't even blink. " – made the world shrink. He must have shrunk you, too."

Teatime froze, unmoving. He didn't flinch, or blink. He just stared at the side of his daughter's face thoughtfully. At last, he nodded.

"I didn't send for you. He was lying."

"Should I be frightened?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

Teatime placed a finger over her lips.

"No," he said softly, shaking his head ever so slowly. "If your mother were here she'd tell you one thing: don't get scared – get angry. And I won't let anything happen to you, Susanette. Nothing, so you'll never have a reason to be afraid."

"Exactly," came Fate's voice. "She won't have anything to fear if things go exactly as they're supposed to – id est, Susan dies."

"Mommy?" the Baby, cried, her head trying to snap over to Fate's direction.

Teatime grabbed his daughter's chin before she could, keeping their eyes locked. He shook his head.

"No, Susanette. Don't look away from me. Look at me." He continued to stare at his daughter, and noticed her lower lip tremble. When he spoke again it was barely a whisper. "Don't be scared." Then he spoke to Fate, keeping their eyes locked. "And what makes you think anything would happen differently?" the Assassin asked cheerfully. "I've told you it would be done. You've already checked up on me once."

"He wants you to hurt Mommy, Daddy?" the Baby squeaked.

Teatime kept staring at her, but ignored her words.

"I'm not saying you wouldn't, but this one stays with me until the job is done."

"You're breaking our deal. You're changing the rules as we play. You shouldn't do that," Teatime replied simply.

Fate shrugged.

"Life isn't fair."

Teatime shook his head and stood in a blur, meeting the middle-aged (in appearance, at least; in reality he was way passed 'middle-aged') god's eyes.

"This is where you don't go, Fate," he said cheerfully, flashing a friendly smile. "This is too far. Please do leave my daughter out of this."

"The moment her mother is out of this, so to speak, she will be as well."

Fate nodded before he vanished.

Teatime whirled around. The Baby was gone too.

The Assassin shook his head darkly and flicked out his knife. He kneeled before Henry, smiling charmingly as the man slowly came back into awareness.

"About that door..." his friendly voice chimed.

When the police found Cathor Artson (a wizard plotting to take over the world and failing miserably), his own brother couldn't recognize the body.

*

Susan awoke feeling fantastic. The Baby hadn't made a single peep all night long, and she'd gotten the first good night's sleep she'd had in a long time. Her back felt fantastic and her hair was in an excellent mood. It didn't give her any trouble at all. She almost smiled as she pulled on a dress and stepped outside her room into the living area.

Then she saw the broken bassinet.

Susan's eyes widened in shock as she ran up to the cradle and kneeled before it. She shook her head in denial.

"No," she said. "No," she growled.

Susan stood to her feet, feeling a terrible mixture of anger, fear, and loss welling up inside her. She wished terribly that her child had a name, so she could call it as she tore apart her house, looking everywhere for a clue, a sign – anything. But there was nothing. No baby. No clue. Nothing. "What has happened?" she gasped. One word came into her mind: "Teatime," she growled.

Susan picked up her poker, pulled on her boots, and was just about to go down to the Assassin's Guild and demand that they tell her Mr. Teh-ah-tim-eh's location when there was a knock on her door.

Susan swung it open and nearly screamed with rage when she saw the crazed Assassin on the other side.

"What have you done with my child?" she demanded, her voice dripping with fury as she stepped past the door frame, glaring terribly.

Teatime wasn't smiling. He looked as serious as she had ever seen him, and he shook his head.

"Fate has her," he replied.

"Fate? Why would Fate want – "

"To make sure I'd kill you."

"But why would he need to? It's not like you'd hesitate – " Susan cut herself of at the look Teatime was giving her. It was somewhere between angry and exasperated, a dark glare she'd never seen cross his face.

"Susan, you don't actually think that I'd go and kill you without a second thought anymore, do you?" he asked.

"I – "

"Why aren't you dead, then?" In a flash her head jerked back as her hair pulled taught, and she felt a cold blade on her throat. How he'd gotten behind her so quickly, she didn't know. But that was normal for him. "Why don't I kill you now?"

"You've tried before," she managed hoarsely.

Teatime released Susan, stepping back in frustration.

"I would have gotten you back!"

The schoolteacher whirled around angrily.

"When you hacked me in two?" she called.

"I was planning to go after Death," Teatime replied. "I thought I could come for you later."

"Do you expect me to believe that you really thought anyone could come back from the dead under any circumstances beyond zombiehood – "

"I did," he answered coldly. "And I can do anything."

"What about when we were dangling off the balcony? You tried to stab me then and there!" she countered.

"We would have ended up in the Unseen University. They would have healed us both." His eyes were flashing, his face solemn. He looked older than he ever had before(3). "And if you don't believe me, ask yourself why I would be willing to fall with you; you were the only thing holding me up."

Susan clenched her fists angrily, glaring coldly at him. But she had no come back, no witty remark, no sharp comment to bite back spitefully. So she simply glared at him.

"Susan, we can argue all we like. We could fight for eternity, perhaps. I wouldn't be surprised. I know you hate me, but we have more important things to deal with at the moment – id est, rescuing our child."

Death's granddaughter chocked back whatever she was about to say and nodded before whistling shrilly.

"Where are we going?" Teatime asked as Binky galloped down from the bright sky above.

Susan patted the horses nose and pulled herself up onto his back.

"I'm getting my baby's biography," she explained. "It should say where she is and if she's all right."

Teatime leapt up behind her, ever graceful. He wrapped his arms around her and grasped the reins, sending the horse up into the air.

"Let's go," he whispered.

(3)Perhaps a more accurate description would be that he looked the least childlike that she'd ever seen him.

*

The Lady turned to Fate with a fire in her eyes.

"You cheated," she said darkly.

"It's part of the game, Lady," he replied. "You've cheated in others before, and so have I."

The Lady whirled around to Blind Io angrily.

"Get him to play fair, Io," she growled. "Get him to play by the rules."

The king of gods shrugged.

"It makes things more interesting this way, though," he pointed out.

"But this way we're not figuring out whether or not Teatime is capable of love," Astoria countered. "We're just seeing if he's going to kill Susan or let... er, 'the Baby' die."

The gods sighed and exchanged an exasperated glance.

"They really need to name that kid," they chorused.

*

Death was sulking. There really was no better word for it. He was sulking, and he felt absolutely terrible. He'd completely botched everything up. He'd upset Susan, invaded her privacy, made her angry, and he wouldn't get to see his great-granddaughter again for a long time.

And the father of his great-granddaughter was Jonathan Teatime!

As if things weren't bad enough on their own.

He sighed sadly.

Then there was a knock, and the door struck open like a clash of thunder as Susan barged in, pulling back the hood of her black cloak as she did so. Death went over to greet her as quickly as he could.

SUSAN? he said. I'M SO VERY SORRY – then he saw Teatime. OH. YOU.

Teatime smiled charmingly.

"And a most excellent day to you."

SUSAN, WHY ARE YOU HERE? Death asked his granddaughter.

"She's gone."

NOT – ?

"Yes," Susan replied gravely. "She's gone. Fate's taken her. We're here to find her biography and see – "

I'M AFRAID, SUSAN, THAT SHE DOESN'T HAVE ONE.

Susan blinked.

"What?"

YOUR DAUGHTER DOESN'T HAVE A BIOGRAPHY.

"Why not?" her voice was getting a little panicked.

WELL... WHAT WOULD IT BE UNDER? SHE DOESN'T HAVE A NAME, SO HER BIOGRAPHY HASN'T BEEN MADE YET.

"You've got to be kidding me!" she called. "This can't be happening! What can I do?"

"It seems, Susan," Teatime answered softly, "that we'll have to name her. Do you have some favorites picked out?"

"Um..." she shook her head. "Um, Ysabell, after my mother?"

"Wouldn't that get confusing?" the Assassin asked curiously.

"My mum's dead, Teatime," Susan replied dryly. "I thought you knew that."

"I do. But whenever you talk about her – "

"I'll refer to her as 'mum', or 'my mother'."

"I'm none too fond of it, Susan."

Susan harrumphed in exasperation, rolling her eyes for good measure.

"What about Elizabeth?" she suggested.

Teatime wrinkled his nose.

"I don't mind Elizabeth, but then someone is sure to call her 'Liz'. I despise 'Liz'."

"What's wrong with 'Liz'?" Susan asked defensively.

"I don't like it."

"We can change the name later! It doesn't have to be permanent. Just long enough for there to be a biography so we can find her."

Teatime shook his head.

"I am not naming my daughter something with an intention of changing it. Names are very important."

"Well, then, Mr. Names-Are-Important, why don't you give a suggestion?"

"I still like Stella...?" he suggested hopefully. Susan glared at him, hands on her hips. "...but I know that you don't like that. What about 'Mallory' or 'Bridgette'?"

"Mallory means 'ill-fated luck'. I don't believe in tempting Fate, especially when Fate has made such an obvious enemy of us," Susan replied dryly. "And Bridgette sounds too happy. This girl's a little monster and we should name her accordingly."

"A little monster?" he clicked his tongue patronizingly. "From what I've seen of her she is simply the... sweetest thing to grace the disc, Susan. I'm so disappointed to find that you'd talk about our daughter like that."

Death flinched at being reminded that this man had had such relations with his granddaughter. It wasn't right.

"Why not Carmen?" she suggested with an exasperated sigh.

"Carmen..." Teatime mused thoughtfully, tasting it on his tongue. "It's a pretty name, but it sounds so very old, say for someone in their twenties. I couldn't call my baby Carmen."

I HAVE A SUGGESTION, Death said quietly.

Susan and Teatime's heads snapped over to him in surprise. They'd almost forgotten that he was there.

"Go on, then," Susan said.

Death nodded.

I HAVE PUT SOME THOUGHT INTO THIS, AND FROM WHAT I KNOW OF YOU, AND FROM WHAT I KNOW OF HER, I THOUGHT WE COULD CALL HER...

He leaned forwards and whispered the name quietly. Teatime's eyes widened and an enlightened, slightly eerie smile spread across his face.

"Yes, that will do nicely. That will do wonderfully."

Susan nodded.

"It's suits her. It's spunky, smart, sensible, sharp... I like it," Death's granddaughter agreed. "Thanks, Granddad." She turned to Teatime abruptly; "So let's go look under the Sto-Helit section and – "

"Sto-Helit?" he said before he shook his head adamantly, his curls shifting slightly. He clucked patronizingly; "I think not, Susan. She's a Teatime."

Death sighed before starting to make himself comfortable, shaking his head sadly. He had a hunch that this was going to go on for a while.

"Never in a million years will my daughter be a Teatime!" the schoolteacher protested in frustration.

Teatime opened his mouth to correct her, but was (barely) able to shut himself up as he pursed his lips.

"Fine, let's make a compromise, Susan," he managed. "We'll call her Sto-Helit for now, but if we ever get married we're switching her name to Teatime. Deal?"

"You and I married?" Susan called incredulously. "On your – "

"Yes, yes, I know; my bloody grave. So you've got nothing to worry about. Do we have a deal?"

Susan raised a brow.

"You do understand what you're getting into?"

"Yes, I do."

"Fine, then," she answered, reaching out her hand and shaking Teatime's. "Let's go find her biography."

He grinned, which made Susan a little worried because he looked very triumphant. She shook it off, though, and the trio made their way as quickly as they could to the library.