Chapter 53: Home Sweet Home Part 2

James had barely rounded the corner to the coffee shop when he heard the light quick steps come up behind him and felt the looming presence of the taller man. "I told you I'd meet you at the café," he grumpily said, not bothering to look behind him. He didn't have to… he knew those footsteps from anywhere. "It's two a.m. and I've had two hours of sleep after a long, trying day of exasperatingly boring paperwork."

"We can go without sleep for longer periods than most of the masses," the taller man groused back as he lumbered unhappily behind while Watson pulled the glass door open and entered the café. "Why are we here?" he asked sulkily. "I told you I need your help."

"I need caffeine," the other shot back in an equally sulky tone. "If I am to be so rudely roused out of bed the least you can do is wait while I get something to drink. You may not require much sleep but I am an old man whose body insists otherwise." Proceeding directly to the counter, he ordered a tall Earl Grey, a tall chai tea and selected half a dozen of the freshly made cookies from the glass case next to the register. He ignored John, who had leaned against the far counter with crossed arms and glowered at everyone as if they personally had insulted him somehow. As it was a Saturday night, the café had quite a number of patrons seated in its faux leather chairs and chatting away noisily. A few repeatedly glanced nervously over at the big man who seemed to be doing nothing but glaring at those around him. Two pretty young twenty-somethings with large coffees paused briefly nearby, looked at the big frowning man and decided that the empty chairs by the fireplace weren't worth taking if the giant was going to continue staring at everyone like some crazed pervert. They scuttled off quickly to the other side of the room, causing the tiniest of a smile to pull at the corner of John's mouth. Always good to know he could still be intimidating when needed, though of course at the moment he wasn't trying to be. He was just frustrated with his impossible situation.

Patience wearing thin, John stomped over to the other side of the long counter where James was taking his time fixing the teas to his liking. "Are you quite through administering to your tea your majesty?" he snarked. "And I don't want any tea," he grunted at the second cup. "I want you to do something before she goes too far."

James snorted as he replaced the lid on his tea. "You can't get your woman under control and you want me to step in and deal with her. Is that what you're telling me? What are we? Back in Oxford and you a silly school boy frightened to ask her out to the winter ball?"

"She's going to end up killing our child," John barked, startling the patrons around him who immediately stopped their conversations to turn and stare at him in shock. He in turn gave the lot a murderous look which resulted in them quickly turning away from the scary man.

"Lower your voice," James commanded testily, "and get yourself under control man. Try to remember you're English and not some common street thug." He cut any protest off by shoving the bag of cookies into Druitt's hand and then picking up a cup of tea in each hand. "She is a doctor. She knows what she's doing, even if she's going about it in a bizarre way. You know perfectly well she would never harm a child, particularly one of her own."

"I realize that," the big man groaned as he followed his friend back to the front door. "But things are escalating and she's becoming more agitated with each passing hour. I'm terrified to leave her alone for long for fear she might try something more drastic once my back is turned." Stepping outside into the brisk cool air he added, "And I wasn't frightened to ask her out to the winter ball. I did ask her once the time was right."

Watson sniggered. "You practically stuttered your request… and you only did it after she prompted you by asking you if you had already selected an escort to the ball. Had you not followed through and ask her to be your date then and there I have no doubt she would have taken the initiative and asked you to escort her, social etiquette be damned. She was head strong from the moment you met her. And you were wrapped around her beckoning finger from the moment she batted her baby blues at you." He snickered again at the stony silence he received from the hulking figure behind him. Ten points for me, he thought smugly to himself, and zero to Helen's great big, sulking mastiff.

"She's just ready for it to be over with," James counseled to get the conversation back on track. Probably not the best of ideas to poke at the big lug when he was feeling helpless and upset. "She looks like she's swallowed two large watermelons, she can't see her feet unless they're propped up before her, and she is exhausted and generally feeling miserable." He turned into a dark side alley and waited for his companion to come to a stop next to him. "You can't blame her for any of that given the fact that you're the cause of it all." He aimed a sharp look at the other. "And if you tell her I said she looks like she's swallowed two large watermelons I'll deny it and tell her you were stalking her about Oxford for a week and hiding behind columns to stare at her unnoticed until you could work up the nerve to ask her to the ball."

"I understand she's beyond frustrated," the expectant father to be exclaimed. "But her latest scheme is too much. Come and you'll see what I mean." He reached out a large hand to grab James smoothly by the collar and pull their faces closer together. "And I did not stalk her or peer at her behind columns like some love forlorn boy. She just happened to be nearby at times when we were changing classes."

"Fine, take me to her," Watson reluctantly agreed. "But don't spill my tea getting us there. And you can spare me the hot denials about stalking her. Nikola, Nigel and I used to watch you do it from various buildings on campus and laugh our heads off. We had a bet how long it would take you to work up the nerve to ask her. Nigel and I were not amused to lose a quid each to Tesla given the fact that he only won because he happen to be on the spot when she prompted you."

"You all bet on us attending the ball?" John exclaimed in surprise.

"And on when you'd first get the nerve to hold her hand… Nigel won that one. And whether you'd take the initiative to secretly kiss her under one of the many mistletoe branches wired up above all the archways around the ballroom and its attached gardens before the night's end… which you didn't being the great big chicken that you were and so she had to be the one to give you a quick peck on the lips before swishing off with a flush across her face for her boldness. I won that bet. I even called the correct location which was obvious given it was in the darkest corner of the garden walkway," James mused thoughtfully. "Oh, and how many dances you'd get with her at the ball given all the sudden attention the other men in the room were paying to her in that deep, peacock green gown… Tesla won that one but we refused to pay up given the fact that he was the one egging the other men to pursue her by repeatedly mentioning how lovely she looked and that the dress must have cost a fortune, not that it mattered to her given how wealthy her father was and the fact that she was his only heir."

"What?!" the big man cried. "You idiots were spying on us the whole night just to win some stupid bets?" In the dark his eyes narrowed as he took in the rest of the confession. "And I knew it was one of you gits causing mischief at the dance. She always looked beautiful in whatever she wore around the college but suddenly every single man under forty at Oxford that night wanted to converse and dance with her. She was my date and yet I had to stand aside and act polite while trying to recapture her from the dance floor."

James smiled at the little recollection. "She did look smashing that night. And you looked ridiculous trying to smother your jealousy all evening at the attention she was receiving. Nikola said you looked like a constipated wolfhound," he shared with a big laugh.

Growling, John declared, "You lot were royal pains in my backside. I should have throttled you all."

Smirking back James said, "But then you would come to your rescue now with the lovely Dr. Magnus?"

"Ugh, I hate you all," John grumbled and teleported them away. A minute later they arrived in the root cellar of the Cutter family cabin where they entered the mountain by way of the secret entrance and rode the sphere rail to Avalon. It had been almost ten weeks since they made their way into the mountain to solve Gregory's riddle and find the lost city. Looking out the small glass window as the rail flew along its path James marveled privately how much had been accomplished in such a short time. The rail system they had discovered circled the city and there were three different rail cars as well as a flatbed car that could be attached to move large and heavy items. The way they had originally entered the rail system turned out to be the back way into the city with the narrow ledge running around the curve of the mountain to end at the bottom level of Avalon that was in ruins. Once they had reprogrammed the security system they were able to bring the rest of the rail line into operation and the direct line between the cellar and the middle section of the city ran in the opposite direction. From the cellar of the ranch to the exit station in the city it was a short five minute ride. Nick was a good tracker, but he was an even better handyman. The boy could build, create and revive just about anything he put his mind to doing.

"You know," James remarked as they stepped onto the platform and moved towards the elevator to go up to the upper levels, "she's not going to be happy you called in reinforcement."

"She's lucky I didn't tie her to the bed until the baby was born," he shot back and quickly halted as Watson turned to glare at him. "It was a figure of speech," he defended. "You know I'd never do that. She'd put a bullet through my head faster that I could say 'I'm sorry dear.'"

"Well, there's always hope she'll shoot you for something else," James commented as he held up his palm over the sensor and punched in his pass code to activate the elevator car.

"Ever the optimist, aren't you?" John snorted with a roll of his eyes.

"I am," James called over his shoulder with laughter in his voice as they entered the car.

Moments later they disembarked on the common living area and walked towards the kitchen area. The once small room had been enlarged with the removal of three non-structural walls from two adjacent rooms and lumber had been placed strategically to frame up the space into one long space. Nick had not yet had the time to put in the drywall to cover the timber framing. He was too busy finishing off the rooms upstairs in addition to ensuring the elevators and rail cars were in good working order.

The kitchen had been installed just the week before, thanks to the help of John and Lucy under the direction of James's protégé. Helen had been pleasantly surprised to discover that the young man lived up to Watson's praise that he was a creative building genius. Looking around she admired the bright, clean new kitchen surrounding her that had been done up in white cabinets with silver drawer pulls that matched the stainless steel appliances. The wide counter tops, which were made of sturdy laminate that looked like granite, had been selected for their lighter weight and sturdiness.

Sitting down on one of the comfortable stools at the large kitchen island Helen ran her hand along the cool surface while she glumly stared at the concoction in front of her. The color was a sickening puce and little seeds floated in the blended mess. Shoulders sagging, she swallowed hard as she tried to work up the nerve to pour the smoothie into the nearby awaiting glass. "Just suck it up and do it," she ordered herself and after a long pause reached over and poured the smoothie into the glass. Pulling it before her she sniffed the concoction and quickly pulled back before she could gag from the smell. Darn. The strawberries weren't enough to cover the smell. She prayed they would help mask the flavor at least. No time like the present she dully thought. Taking a deep breath she pinched her nose closed with one hand and grabbed the glass with the other.

The two men walked into the kitchen just in time to see the expectant mother cover her nose and lift a vile looking drink up to her mouth. Her eyes widened at the sight of them and she blew out a large breath in surprise. Unfortunately that caused her to take another whiff of the drink and she quickly put it down with a loud thump onto the table as she started to cough.

"What in God's name is that disgusting liquid you're about to drink?" James drawled as he walked up to her and peered down at the glass. "It smells like a mixture of strawberry daiquiri and vomit."

Helen pulled a face. "It's a mixture of various chili peppers, strawberries and a little coconut crème. Vomit's a bit harsh but not by much." She looked from John to James and frowned at them. "What are you doing here? It must be 2 a.m. your time. Forced to come to talk me down from the ledge by the hysterical father to be I presume?" she coolly guessed and glared at the taller man. She couldn't believe he went and dragged Watson out of bed just to talk her out of drinking the pepper concoction.

"I am not hysterical," John hotly denied and, pointing at the glass, declared, "and that is disgusting. You cannot drink that mess. It will give our child severe gas and burn her organs! Or worse, make her go blind! How can you do that to our innocent baby?"

Rolling her eyes, Helen countered with "It will not make her go blind. The gas part possibly but that might be just enough to get the show on the road."

Leaning down James stared into the side of the glass at the seeds floating lazily about. "Exactly what types of peppers are in this thing?" he asked and looked appalled at her answer. "You put ghost pepper in here?" he exclaimed with a deep scowl. "Woman, what were you thinking?"

"Only half a ghost pepper," she defended. "And I was thinking that this baby is almost two weeks late and I am a desperate woman!" she cried as she threw her arms out with a whine. "We're out of room in here," she said as she pointed to her enormous belly, "the baby is playing bouncy ball on my kidneys and I can't sleep because I am miserably uncomfortable. I want her out!"

"By making her sick?" John accused and smacked his palms down onto the counter. "Really, Helen, how could you?"

Placing her palms down on the counter she leaned forward to glare back at him. "I would never do anything to harm our daughter you jackass," she hissed back. "I am a doctor. I know what I'm doing."

Shaking his head at their squabbling, James picked up the drink and promptly dumped it in the sink. At her squawk of protest, he cut her off with a firm look. "You may be a doctor but you are not drinking that vile mess. As her future godfather I'm intervening on her behalf. I'll not have my godchild coming out with fried internal organs."

"You mean on his behalf," she accused with a jab at Druitt. "Now I have to make that mess from scratch all over again!"

Placing the cup of chai tea in front of her he sat down on the stool next to her and reached for the bag of cookies Druitt had slammed down onto the counter. Opening the bag he saw the cookies had gotten broken and gave John a dirty look before putting the sack between him and the pissed off woman to his right.

"What's this?" she asked eyeing the cup and sack suspiciously.

"Tea and cookies," he answered as he pulled a random cookie from the sack. "A vast improvement to the crap I just poured down the sink."

Pouting, she took a sip from the mug and dug around in the sack for a cookie. "I've already tried over dousing her with tea and food. It's not working. And if I hear one more person say she'll come out when she's ready so help me I'll shoot them with the biggest gun we have on hand."

Laughing, James pushed the cookie sack at the still glowering Druitt and took a sip of his tea as he stared around the space. It had been five long weeks since he'd last been here and he found himself missing the place with each passing day. There was adventure and discovery to be had here. Life in the London Sanctuary was becoming a daily drudge for him what with the endless stream of paperwork needing signatures and comments and due to his cursed legs he was spending more and more time indoors. Declan was proving to be the perfect protégé and had stepped up to take over more of the strenuous tasks. Watson was also feeling his age weighing down on him more than ever. He'd wrestled with the flu for over two weeks which had worn down his declining body. He was a very old man and he felt himself being stretched more thinly with each passing day. He knew he would live on for four more years until the trip to Bhalassam and had to continue to carry on the best he could without letting on how tired he was becoming. His visits to Avalon were rare treats away from the worries of his busy life.

"The kitchen is well fitted out," he remarked. "My lad has outdone himself. I can't wait to see the dining and family room space here finished off."

"You haven't seen the upstairs yet," John said as he finished off his cookie and reached for a napkin.

"The nursery?" James asked with a raised brow.

"Is amazing," Helen gushed and reached for a second cookie which turned out to be peanut butter much to her delight. This child sure did like her peanut butter. "Want a tour?"

"Absolutely," he agreed with a grin. "Where is Nick anyway?"

"Hiding upstairs, I expect," John chuckled. "Our discussions might have encouraged him to stay out of sight."

"I did warn them you were the Bickersons," James chuckled as he slid off the stool and helped Helen to her feet.

"We don't always bicker," she refuted as she led the way out of the room.

"No, sometimes one of us throws things," John piped up from the back of the trio.

"And I usually hit my target too," she retorted, causing both men to give a laugh. They went through the rest of the floor discussing their future plans for the yet unaltered spaces on this level. An enlarged living room, two offices and a media room were planned. The plan was to fix up the two upper levels and then slowly work their way down.

The men climbed the stairs after the expectant mother refused to take the lift, stating that if she couldn't convince her little bundle of joy to come out with hot peppers than perhaps exercise would be an encouragement. At the top of the stairs she heaved a heavy sigh and asked to be excused for a moment. Exercise only encouraged her daughter to take a nap on her kidneys she morosely thought as she set off the private bathroom in her bedroom.

The men waited until she had waddled out of sight before speaking what was on each other's mind. "She really needs to have that baby," James concluded. "Are you sure there's only one in there? She's bigger than she was with Ashley."

"That's what the sonogram showed," John replied. "If she doesn't come out in the next 24 hours I think Helen will cave and agree to have the baby induced. She's been fighting it for fear of what might happen should the hospital get a hold of a sample of the baby's blood. I told her I would follow the attendant and steal back the sample but she's still worried."

James looked around at the open cozy sitting area that was centered between the staircase on one side and the lift on the other. There was a pair of comfy brown leather wing chairs with matching ottomans, a light blue love seat, and long coffee table arranged nicely around the corner fireplace. A light beige rug in an intricate Persian pattern covered the floor and the walls had been freshly painted a soft cream. A 32 inch flat screen was wired up onto the wall and waist high bookcases ran along the opposite wall. Above the bookcases trio of framed watercolors were hung and spotlighted by a pair of modern lamps hanging off of metal railings that ran the length of the space. The area had been completely transformed and James recognized the work of his foster children. Lucy had chosen the furnishings and Nick had done all the wiring.

"Thank you for sending along Helen's watercolors," John said with the first genuine smile he'd given all day. "She actually cried when she saw them hanging on the wall. She had no idea you'd saved them all these many years."

"She blamed the tears on baby hormones, didn't she?" James chuckled. Two of these particular watercolors were of her French garden in bloom in early spring and the central one featured an amiable gray, spotted horse grazing in an open field with scattered wildflowers.

Nodding, John chuckled along with him. "It was the paintings though. She loved that place… and Ollie. Perhaps we can put in a barn by the cabin next spring. She would be thrilled to have another horse."

"So would Lucy," James responded. "Her brother of course would argue that a horse is dangerous and they'd fuss at one another like when they were children. He's a bit overprotective, in case you haven't noticed," he said as they turned and proceeded in the direction of the east wing.

"I've noticed," John laughed softly. "They do a pretty good rendition of the Bickersons themselves." The first bedroom on the north side was untouched. The next room over was the shared bathroom where they discovered a pair of lean legs sticking out from underneath the long vanity and grunts could be heard as the man struggled to tighten the new piping to the old existing plumbing. The sparse, bare bones bathroom had been transformed into a bright modern space. James walked further in and admired the newly retiled step down shower, vanity and toilet.

Wiggling out from underneath the vanity Nick sat up as he wiped his hands on a rag and his face lit up at the sight of his mentor. "James," he greeted in delight, "I didn't know you were coming. What do you think?"

"Emergency mediation," he said with a glance at John. The boy grinned, knowing exactly what he was referring to. He'd heard the expectant pair going rounds over her idea for inducing labor and had high tailed it out from the kitchen for a quieter location. "This is an excellent job, my boy," James commended with a wave of his hand. "A bit feminine for my taste though. Please tell me this isn't my bathroom."

Laughing, Nick stood up. "Your rooms are across the hall along with mine. This is the ladies powder room and the largest of the three. It's a bit feminine for Ashley's taste I've been told but Lucy insisted on the cheerful Moroccan tiles the moment she laid eyes on them. She actually helped installed all the tiles she was so excited about the space. She's decided she likes laying tiles, which is good since we've got four bathrooms on this level to remodel." He pointed to the two paint samples taped to the walls which had been repaired here and there with spackle and then coated with Kilz primer to seal the added plaster. "Those are the colors she chose for the upper and lower walls."

"The soft creams will help temper these bright teal, purple and red tiles," James agreed. "At least she didn't pick out girly pinks. Ashley would have taken a hammer to those."

In the doorway John grinned. "Ashley is definitely not a pink princess kind of girl."

"Where is your sister?" James asked as he went to exit the room.

"At the university turning in her final paper," the boy said as he sat down underneath the second sink to connect its plumbing to the wall. "Last day of winter term. She's having late lunch with her girlfriends afterwards. She should be back in a few hours. She'll be disappointed if you're not here."

"I have to get back before six a.m. my time. People will wonder where I've disappeared to," James said and set off to explore the other rooms. His was the bedroom and en suite at the opposite end. The walls in the bedroom had been similarly primed and a fresh layer of matte cream had been pained onto the walls. A vintage Mahogany four poster bed with new mattresses had been set up against one wall with a matching dresser and a tall media armoire arranged smartly around the room. A long leather chaise and attending side table was set off to the side. It was a surprise to see how much furniture could actually fit in the space.

The bedding was a masculine deep green with thin black satin trim. Spread across the foot of the bed was a soft afghan in black, green, red, blue and yellow made from the bright plaid of the Watson clan tartan. Lucy had decorated the room for him. A pair of nightstands stood on either side of the headboard and he stopped to pick up the lone framed photograph resting on the top of the furthest one. It was a photo of him with Lucy and Nick when they were young children. Their third year together as an unconventional family, though they never spoke openly of this fact. The corners of his eyes crinkled up as he smiled affectionately at the image. They were the closest thing he would ever have to children of his own. He also thought of Declan as a son but Declan at least had some biological family of his own, even if it was only an aged mother and numerous distant cousins. The Cutter children had no one but James to call family. He replaced the photo onto the table and peeked into the adjacent bathroom.

"It's not yet functional," John told him. "The children have been focusing on getting the bedrooms and the hall bathroom in order first." He trailed behind as James peaked in on Nick's rooms which were a mirror layout of his but in nowhere near as good a shape as Watson's. The boy was obviously putting all of his energy in finishing the rooms for the others before himself.

The two men then set off to seek out Helen and check out the west wing. In the master bedroom they found her clutching one of the foot posts of the bed and breathing heavily. She had also changed into a loose fitting dark sweater dress.

"Helen?" John called out in alarm and quickly crossed the room to reach her.

Panting she looked up at him and smiled weakly. "My water broke."