Here is chapter 7! I want to thank you guys so much for the reviews and favorites! It means a lot to me! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please leave a quick review if you get a minute! Thanks so much!

As Filip drove them away from the hospital, each of them now in possession of a small, square picture of their tiny Sour Patch blob, the ridiculous reality of the situation began to finally set in. They were both in their mid-forties. They had recently resumed a long estranged marriage, and technically, they lived on separate continents. They had a teenage daughter who they both adored, who needed each of them very, very much. She had a strong lineage linked to a violent terrorist organization. He was a member of a band of outlaw bikers. And now, there would be a tiny baby added to this mix.

He knew that, after all that was said and done, not a damned bit of it mattered. During the past hour, every time he thought about what a bad idea this might be, all he could hear in his head was that tiny heartbeat. All he could see was the little white shape on the sonogram. He knew that there were a million and a half reasons why having this baby was probably a bad idea, but he didn't give a shit about any of them. The happiness he was feeling, added with the look of pure love he had seen on his wife's face when she saw that little beating heart was more than enough for him to decide that this baby was a good thing.

They drove in silence for a little while. Fiona hadn't let go of his hand yet, but the beautiful thing about driving in an actual car was that, for the most part, you only needed one hand to drive. He surprised her by not heading for the house, but she didn't call him on it. As soon as he pulled into their destination, she instantly knew why he had come here, and the memory brought a smile to her face.

She had found out that she was pregnant with Kerrianne, she had been thrilled, but she had been so goddamned nauseous, that she could not keep any solid food in her stomach. Filip, being the considerate, sweet husband that he was, took her out to celebrate with the only thing she could manage to stomach: ice cream. By the second time around, she had developed a strong love for ice cream, so even though she wasn't nauseous at all, they celebrated with scoops upon scoops of ice cream. Of course he had remembered, of course he had brought her out for ice cream. That very moment, all she could do was thank her lucky stars that this man was hers.

"What kind?" was all he asked.

"Coffee, please," she said with a smile, sitting at the table while he went to get the ice cream. The place was completely empty, so she had no problem resting her hand on her still flat stomach, asking, "Do you like ice cream, baby?"

Before too long, her Filip came back with large amounts of ice cream. Coffee for her, plain chocolate for him. They could be at a place that served a million different kinds of ice cream, and he would always come back with plain chocolate. It was his favorite, always had been. She took comfort in knowing that some things, at least, never changed.

He sat across from her, raising a spoon in her direction. They were quiet for a while, both eating ice cream and settling in to the idea that they were going to become parents again. They had a lot to talk about, but neither of them was in a hurry, both content to just enjoy the ice cream and the good company for a few minutes. Before long, though, he spoke up.

"So, how does the little one enjoy ice cream?" he asked.

She smiled at him, "So far, so good. I'll let you know if I feel like I am about to wretch."

He chuckled and went for another bite of ice cream, before looking at her again. He took a deep breath and asked, "We have a lot of things to talk about, you know. Do you suppose we are going to do any of that now, or should we keep holding off?"

"I see no reason to hold off. What would you like to discuss, Husband?" she questioned with a smart-ass grin.

He sighed and reached across the table to take her hand, before asking one of the many, many questions that was weighing on his mind, "Am I going to need to move to Belfast, or can I convince you and our lovely daughter to stay in Charming, make a go of it here?"

She looked at him, at his honest, decent face, and his kind eyes. She loved this man, more than she had ever loved any man in her entire life. He deserved every ounce of happiness that she could give him. She knew that she could insist that he come to them, that he uproot his life and leave his brothers and move back to Belfast with them; and he would do it. He would hate it, but he would do it. He wouldn't even complain about it at all, would say that she and their children were worth it. After all, he had never hesitated to give up anything and everything for her best interest. She had always wished that she could think of a way to thank him for all of that, to at least begin to pay him back. Now, here was a golden opportunity, right in front of her, and she would be damned if she would pass it up.

"Ireland is just so green, Love. What if this baby hates green? It is very cold and wet and dreary. That just doesn't sound like something a little baby would enjoy, does it? Sunshine and warmth seems like a much better environment to raise a baby in, don't you agree?" she asked, wondering how he would take this.

"Fi, I am serious," he said.

"So am I, Love. I don't want to end up being an IRA pawn and I don't want Kerrianne to be one either. She won't admit it, but most of her friendships essentially dried up once they kids realized exactly who Jimmy was. There is nothing there for us anymore. We will come here. I like it in Charming. I think our family will be happy here," she said, as plainly as she could. She watched his face, saw him realize that she was serious. Then, she saw the happiness settle in his eyes, across his face, as he realized that he wouldn't have to leave Charming.

"Thank you Fi. It means more than I can explain that you want to come here and be with me, but what about Kerrianne?" he asked.

"Kerrianne is old enough to understand this Filip. After everything she has been through, after everything we have all been through, she is not a child anymore. She loves you, you know, and she won't deny you this chance for us all to be happy together," Fiona insisted. "You just leave Kerrianne to me."

"When should we tell her? I wish I knew if she was going to be happy or excited or pissed off or what," he admitted.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Either way, she will have to deal with it. This little one is going to come whether she likes it or not," Fiona said. "We will all adjust to this, eventually. It's going to be fine Filip. As long as this little one comes out healthy, everything will be fine."

He heard the unspoken worry in her voice, saying that if the baby was not healthy, everything would not be fine. He remembered with vivid clarity the last time Fiona was pregnant. He remembered how they had waited for months, eager to meet their new baby, and within the course of one day, it had all been ripped away. He refused to acknowledge that they might go through that again, refused to believe even for a second that this baby might not be absolutely perfect. This felt different than last time, and he just knew that this baby had to be okay. It just had to be.

"Listen Fi, the baby will be healthy. It won't be like it was with him. Last time was just a fluke, not something neither of us could have helped. This baby won't be like he was," Filip told her firmly, squeezing her hand.

She turned his hand over in hers and traced the lines on his palm, something she had done so many times before. Quietly, she remarked, "You never say his name, you know."

She was right, of course. Leave it to Fiona to call him on shit that most people probably would never notice. It wasn't as if he was just forgetting the boy's name. Andrew. They had named their son Andrew, and then he had died. He consciously never thought of him as that, though. It was easier to think of him in a broad general sense, because when you got down to specifics, such as names, the pain multiplied exponentially.

"I know. It's just hard. It hurts to think about him. Saying his name makes him real," Filip said, finally admitting it out loud. "But I never forgot. Not ever. This little one won't be like him, like Andrew."

"And if it is? If, God forbid, something happens with this baby, is that going to keep our family apart for another ten years?" she asked, needing to hear his answer.

"Fiona, there is not much that I can promise you, but even if I can't give you anything else, I can give you my word that I won't let that happen again. I love you, I love Kerri, and I love this one too. Nothing is going to happen that will hurt that, I swear to you," he said, never even wanting to look away from her, willing her to believe him.

"Alright, Love. Let's go and give our little daughter either the best, or the worst birthday present of her life," she smiled at him, letting go of his hand and standing up.

"Can we wait until tomorrow?" he asked suddenly, joining her.

"I suppose we can, why?" she asked, wondering how her husband, who was genuinely terrible at containing his excitement, would keep it to himself.

"It's her birthday. Let her have her day, if we are going to ruin her life, let's wait until tomorrow," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her temple, as they strolled towards the car.