Soft sounds of conversation filled the air around them like a comfortable blanket. The place was secluded- a small cafe in an out-of-the-way area, a place only the locals knew about and the tourists blessedly kept far away from. They congregated towards the main arteries of the city, anyway. It was a beautiful day as well, sunny but with cold winds, so the two of them sat outside, and when the Dark Ace spotted a man not too far from his own age drawing luxuriously from a cigarette he suddenly wished he smoked, so that he could find solace in something so trivial as well. But he didn't pollute his body- not with alcohol, not with cigarettes. The only way he would ever go down would be in a fight, and he didn't want a thin roll of paper and tobacco leaves to be the one to finally deliver the killing blow to him.
He rested his elbows on the glass, his fingers running through his hair. "I only have three questions," he said, voice low so that only she could hear him.
Cyclonis took a long sip of hot chocolate and then reclined in her chair, the very picture of elegance and comfort while he felt as though he had been scrunched up into a tiny ball of consternation. "Ask away."
He let loose a long breath, closing his eyes. "Are you sure you're pregnant?"
"Very."
"But..."
"Trust me. I wouldn't worry you needlessly."
"I thought you had..." The Dark Ace wondered at the sheer awkward quality of the conversation. Things- things that normally wouldn't have made him think twice now had him wincing as he said it. "Some form of protection?"
Wordlessly, Cyclonis reached inside the front of her shirt and drew out a crystal that hung on a chain around her neck. Unfastening it, she held it out to him and he accepted it, eyes darting over its slender form. Trust Cyclonis to use a special crystal as a form of contraceptive. Sighing again, he placed it on the table. She left it there- after all, what good would it do her now?
"It's ninety-nine percent effective, so apparently we're the lucky one percent that defy expectations."
"I don't feel very lucky," The Dark Ace said, letting his head fall so that his forehead bumped against the table. "If your father were still alive-"
Cyclonis snorted. "Would you stop that already? It's getting really old."
"Fine. But for my last question…"
He leaned closer to her, teeth grit.
"Why the hell are we in Terra Atmosia?!"
It was true. The day after she had told him about her problem, she decided another impetuous vacation was in order- though this time Cyclonis took it one step further. Only the Dark Ace was in disguise, since his face was plastered on Wanted posters in every Terra from here to Saharr. Cyclonis merely threw on some civilian clothing and went as she was, since few people even knew that Master Cyclonis was a girl, much less a sixteen year old girl who liked purple nail polish and tinkering with highly volatile crystal substances.
For the first time since she had told him the news, Cyclonis seemed fully back to her previous, mischievous self. She threw her head back and laughed loudly, causing a few people to glance over, decide nothing interesting was happening, and then turn back to whatever it was they had been doing. The Dark Ace winced at the attention, expecting at any moment for the call to go up and alarms to sound. For himself, he had no fear, but if Cyclonis were to be caught here… and now that she was pregnant with what could very well be the next Cyclonis…
"I know for a fact that the Storm Hawks are out of town today," she said, trying in vain to hide her smile behind her hand. "So I figured: why go through all the trouble and hide my gorgeous face?"
The Dark Ace set his face in a firm, thin line.
"Now now, don't frown," she said, waving one finger in the air from side to side. "You'll get wrinkles."
"Regardless. We still have a decision to make. Or rather… you do."
She frowned, reclining back in her chair again. "Right. You're right. Well…" She glanced around her, as if she could find the answer to her problems conveniently lying around in Terra Atmosia. "I guess we could kill it."
The Dark Ace blinked. To be honest, the idea hadn't crossed his mind at all. It seemed so simple, he wondered at his stupidity for overlooking it. It was an easy, effective escape to her problems. Nodding slowly, he took a sip of decaffeinated coffee. He made a face when he found that he had left it alone for so long, it had grown cold. "That might be for the best."
Cyclonis averted her eyes, absent-mindedly stirring her hot chocolate. "Al-thooough…" she drawled out indecisively.
"Don't tell me you want to keep it, Lark!"
"And if I do? What's so wrong with that?"
"You're-"
"Too young to have that sort of responsibility?" she finished for him, innocently.
He slammed his fist upon the table, relief flooding through him at the fact that she saw the answer for herself. "Exactly," he almost sighed. But when he looked up at her, he found that she was staring at him intently, eyes narrowed in distaste. Suddenly, he realized what was wrong.
He settled down in his chair. "Forgive me, Master Cyclonis. I forgot myself."
"Heh. Don't be sorry. To tell the truth, I found it incredibly amusing that you forgot I was the master of an entire empire. That's a pretty big thing to forget, don't you think? A pretty big responsibility, compared to something so mundane?"
"…As you say, Master."
"Please don't start with your humble servant act again." She crossed her legs at the knee, yawning. "Besides, I'm not keeping it anyway. I realize I can't care for a child and rule an empire and expect to excel in both fields. If I ever do decide to have an heir, I want to be there at every major step to see that my son or daughter doesn't wind up a total loser. Or, god forbid, a Storm Hawk."
The Dark Ace buried his face in his hands, shuddering. "Bad mental images."
She laughed. "Sorry. But…" She paused again, her eyes glazing over in thought. "Maybe… Hmm… Well, I suppose, if I could…"
"If you could what?" He asked, peeking at her from between his fingers, suddenly wary.
"If I had a boy, I could name him Eustace."
"Good God, woman."
The apples of her cheeks turned very slightly pink. "Hey, I like it!" she said, immediately on the defensive.
"The fact that you're even considering-"
"What would you name him?"
He stopped mid-sentence, biting his lower lip. "Ah…" truth be told, he didn't have the slightest idea. Names weren't his forte. "How do you even know it would be male, Lark?" he asked instead. "What if we had a little Lark Jr.?"
The teen aged genius decided to ignore that, resting her chin on her palm as she stared out into space, thinking hard. "I've never thought about names for my first child. Because obviously I've always known I'd have to have one someday, since there's no other Cyclonis around to take on the job if I kick it. We could have a cute little bird name like Robin or Cardinal or Sparrow… or a more mundane one. Like David. Or…"
The Dark Ace continued as if she hadn't spoken. "Lark Jr. is a possibility. We certainly can't call him The Dark Ace Two Point Oh."
"We wouldn't have to if you would ever tell me your real name," she said, throwing a curveball.
"That," the Dark Ace said, "Is out of the question."
"Well, what are we going to tell the poor kid to respond to when someone asks him who his Daddy is? "The Dark Ace" is a mouthful for a toddler."
"I thought you were going to kill it?"
"Well I've decided I'm going to keep it!" She lifted her chin up high. "If I ever die, we need a back up. I'm carrying the future of Cyclonia, you know."
"Lark!" He glanced around them, aware that he needed to keep his voice low but still trying to convey the seriousness of his voice through whispers. "You can't just decide on the spur of the moment you're going to keep it! Not just to spite me! You can't bear nine months on spite alone, you know."
"This isn't spite. This is maternal instinct coupled with logic. If I have an heir and I die, you could always raise him-"
She was shocked right out of what she was going to say when the Dark Ace pushed his chair back, the metal screeching on the stone floor. He stood up abruptly, strode around the table, and planted himself on one knee in front of her chair. "Don't ever say things like that," he said, hands clamping tightly on her shoulders. "I'd die before I let you die, Master."
Somehow, she managed to find a response for that. To not be able to do that would mean he had moved her, and to move her would mean that she might horde some deeper feelings for him than her pride could ever allow her to show. "And leave me a single mother? Great, DA. Just great." After a moment of consideration, she let loose a wicked smile. "Hmm. While you're down there, are you planning on proposing to me? Making it official? Cause that would be awfully nice of you, sweetie." She patted his cheek. "Then you might not look so bad when people find out you're screwing jailbait."
He let go of her, defeated for now. "Do you have to say it like that?" he asked miserably.
She blinked, expression totally blank. "Yes," she said bluntly.
"…"
"Hee hee!"
The Dark Ace made an "ugh' noise and stood up, clapping his hands as though cleaning them. "Fine. Keep it. But you're going to do it right, understand? I will not have my only child be deformed or injured in some way because you were fooling around while carrying him. Or her," he added as an afterthought. "You're not allowed to smoke, drink, or do any sort of drug whatsoever." As he listed them, he lifted three fingers one by one.
"What are you, my mother?" she wanted to know. "And besides, I don't do any of those things anyway. I'm far too busy."
"Then," he kept on relentlessly, sitting back down in his chair with his expression stern. He held up his fourth finger. "When you get to a certain stage of pregnancy you're not allowed near certain crystals. And any strenuous physical activity at all that might be harmful to her-"
"-or him-"
"-Like fighting, is also not allowed."
"On second thought, I think I might kill this thing after all."
He blinked. "Really?"
"…No."
"…Then let me finish." The rant continued, and he was getting so into it he didn't realize his voice was growing louder. "You're going to see a doctor regularly, as many times as you need to. No- now that I think about it, we'll have the doctor come see you." Now he was on finger number seven. "You're going on a diet."
"What! I thought when you're pregnant you're allowed to eat whatever the hell you want?"
"You want to eat all sorts of things," he corrected. "But I'm almost positive there are certain foods you need to stay away from."
"I've heard some ladies get really crazy cravings."
"True. But you're going to fight it."
"Like pickles and ice cream and Tabasco sauce at three in the morning. Or fertilizer."
That made him stop. His eyebrows furrowed. "You're making that up," he accused.
"No, really!" she said, eyes wide to accentuate her honesty. "I read about it once. The lady would not stop until she had fertilizer."
"…I'm not going to feed you fertilizer, Lark. And don't expect me to."
"Humph!" She snorted. "Don't think you can get supercilious with me, Dark Ace. You're just the sperm donator."
"So I've been demoted to Sperm-Donator, now?" Shaking his head, The Dark Ace looked at his hands. "Number eight," he said, holding up the respective finger. "Don't perform any experiments on it, please."
"Oh, darn," she said, snapping her fingers. "There go my plans for a super baby."
He decided to not comment on that, because he couldn't be sure she wasn't serious. "Nine is you're forbidden from killing it after it's born. Keep it in the dark about its heritage if you must, but let me train it as the next Dark Ace. You're not the only one who needs an heir, you know."
"Starting to warm up to this whole baby thing, aren't you?" She looked at him in amazement. "I never thought I'd see the day when the Dark Ace decided to be merciful."
"I draw the line at family, Master. And number ten…" he held out the thumb of his left hand, thinking hard.
"Grow an eleventh finger?" she suggested.
"What?"
"I don't know. It seemed funny when I thought of it. Didn't quite come out the way I meant it to."
"…I'm sure. Number ten is you can't name it Eustace. And now…"
"…You've run out of fingers," she finished for him. "Unless you want to start using your toes."
After a moment of consideration, he sat back in his chair and drank his cold, sludgy coffee. A son might not be all that unwelcome, now that he truly took the time to think about the coming years. And he wasn't at a bad age at all to start this whole… "settling down" process. And it was true that they both needed heirs. When thought of in a logical way, it almost made sense to keep the child. "Yes," he agreed, positively beatific at that moment when he considered the future. Cyclonis seemed quite disturbed to see a true, honest smile cross his face. "Now I've run out of fingers."
She turned her face away from him, examining him from the corner of her eyes as though scared of what she was seeing. "Are you sure you aren't pregnant?" she asked.
The Dark Ace's sole response was to drink from his cup again, still with that large smile plastered across his face.
"My God, Dark Ace. All I do is talk about a baby and you go completely soft."
That managed to knock a bit of sense into him. He glowered at her, upper lip curling up as he clenched the handle of his coffee cup. "I am not soft," he snapped, bristling like a slighted dog. "I'm simply making an investment. And- and good investments make me happy. Is it a crime to be happy?"
She smirked. "Big talk from someone who was just on his knee a moment ago, making all sorts of romantic proclamations, and for being so concerned about our baby."
She caught him there, he knew. Crossing his arms and glaring out at nothing, the Dark Ace mentally rewound his actions over the past few months. There was no denying that somewhere along the line his love for Lark had gone far beyond that of the normal Cyclonis-Dark Ace relationship, which was almost always insanely obsessive to begin with. "Sleeping with you was a big mistake," he decided to mutter instead.
Chin resting in one hand, she picked up a spoon from the table with her free hand and waved it in small circles towards heaven. "Didn't stop your from doing it- or rather, me- over and over again!" she said in a sing-song voice as she smiled up at him. When he ignored her, she decided to talk to the spoon instead, holding it before her eyes and adopting a serious tone. "Poor Dark Ace, he'll win in any fight but when it comes down to it, he's just as weak as any other man. What am I to do, poor, innocent little jailbait girl that I am? Perhaps I need not a man-" her eyes grew wider. "-But a utensil. Mmmm…" she closed her eyes, pressing her lips against the cold metal.
The Dark Ace stood up and pulled his coat off the back of his chair, jaw working in anger. "That's it," he said, grabbing her by the elbow, hauling her up, and leading her away. "You're talking to inanimate objects. Date's over. We're going home."