Bickslow slid the wardrobe door closed and looked into the mirrored door and to the reflection of Lucy playing with Ingrid on the bed. "What time was that appointment again?" he asked as he began to do the buttons up on the grey vest, opting for it instead of the usual suit jacket.

"It's at one thirty," she sighed. "You still don't have to come though. I know Laxus will—"

"Fuck Laxus," Bickslow cut in. When Lucy looked up to Bickslow in the mirror, he shrugged and tucked his purple tie under the now buttoned-up vest. "I don't care what he thinks. I'm going to be there, alright?"

"You do realise nothing much is going to happen today, right? You're probably better off staying at work either way."

With a roll of his eyes, he turned and fell down to the bed on his side, and as he propped himself up on his elbow, he slowly rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. "It's a Friday, so I'm not really better off staying at work," he explained. Because really, Fridays were mostly boring. The usual meeting made it so. The previous Friday had been strangely busy, and of course, it just had to be the one day where the entire world seemed to have fallen apart. But hey, they were putting the world back together slowly, piece by piece. "Besides, we had this conversation yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that, too. I told you I want to be there."

Bickslow wanted to be there for every single step along the way. He wanted to be there for Lucy and for the entire pregnancy, not just because he would stay because of Ingrid and because he cared about Lucy and the baby, but because it was his baby. It was his kid and he really did already love it as much as Ingrid. He wanted to be there for it all, because hell, he was excited.

And a little terrified.

But mostly excited.

The point was that he was going to be there for Lucy for the entire time. He'd promised her that, and he was going to go through with it. He wasn't leaving. Ever.

"Alright then," she sighed again as she manoeuvred herself to the edge of the bed, and as she stood, she almost habitually pulled down and tried to stretch out the fabric of her shirt. She'd done her research during the week, and even though she knew it was mostly just bloating, she still swore that she got bigger with each day.

Or maybe she was just imagining it? Who knows, honestly.

Around the house, she didn't care what she wore because for whatever reason, Bickslow thought her tiny, little, mostly bloating, but a little bit of a baby bump was cute. Lucy didn't understand that at all, because she honestly just felt fat, especially when half of the pairs of pants she owned were so close to not being able to be done up at all. Lucy had never had a problem with clothes not fitting in her entire life.

But hey, she was also having a baby, and sure, that baby was somewhere between the size of being a pomegranate seed and a blueberry (according to Bickslow, anyway), but there was a tiny human growing inside of her. Of course her clothes weren't going to fit.

But still, no matter how much she'd accepted it and no matter how excited she was, she would still make a point of wearing the loosest clothes she could find that weren't blatantly maternity, just so she could keep it hidden from everyone else for a little while longer. She knew that it would only really be a couple of weeks before even the loose and flowing tops she worse would give away her secret, but she didn't want to jinx herself by telling everyone, only to end up losing the baby. If that happened, she'd be completely crushed, and so would Bickslow.

In such a short amount of time, they'd both grown to love that baby Lucy was carrying, just like they'd grown to love Ingrid. With Ingrid, it wasn't so instantaneous because there'd been a period where they still thought it was all temporary, but they longer they'd been in that world, the less likely leaving seemed, and without trying, they'd fallen in love with Ingrid. With the other baby, it was much quicker, and it was because they already loved Ingrid. The baby was their baby, just like Ingrid was their daughter.

Not the other Bickslow and Lucy's, but theirs.

The fact that they both saw the baby as actually being their own was part of the reason they were so excited about it. Sure, it was scary – because really, waking up with a five-month old at the time was one thing, but actually having a baby was different – but they were so damn happy. Lucy was actually convinced Bickslow was more excited than she was, because each day, he'd send her little facts about the growing baby that he'd found while avoiding his work, apparently. It was how she knew it was somewhere around the size of a pomegranate seed or a blueberry, depending on how far along she was because all they knew was that she somewhere around six weeks, and considering they'd seen a heartbeat, it was a pretty good indication.

But no matter how excited she was (and she had to admit that Bickslow's excitement was contagious), there was still that tiny little part of her that worried about something bad happening, even though she knew that the chances of that certain something being incredibly low.

So when Lucy slowly walked over to the bathroom to take a quick shower and take advantage of the half an hour before Bickslow needed to leave for work, she stopped once she'd reached the door, and a smile crossed her face when she looked back to the bed over her shoulder. She really did love watching him with Ingrid, and she also really was glad that he'd already taken such an interest in the baby and the pregnancy. It wasn't like she didn't want him to, because she did. It was just that she'd looked into what usually happens at the first appointment with an obstetrician, and from what she'd read, it was mostly just boring talks about what she should expect or not expect, what to do and not to do and all that jazz. Sure, it wasn't going to be boring for her, because she had a hell of a lot of questions, but it was probably going to be boring for Bickslow, who was probably just going to be sitting there keeping Ingrid occupied.

Or having Ingrid occupy himself.

Who really knows? Because Lucy couldn't tell.

But hey, if he really did want to be there for every single step along the way for the next seven odd months, then she wasn't going to stop him. After all, she was going to need him, and in a way, Lucy was glad that she found herself in that world in that entire situation with Bickslow, because she didn't think it would be the same as it was then if it was anyone else.

Bickslow looked up from the book he held open with one hand as the door to his office opened. When his secretary, James, stuck his head through and looked towards Bickslow's desk where he sat with his feet up on one corner and leaning back in plush leather chair, Bickslow quickly took the black plastic fork from his mouth and swallowed the piece of chicken from the salad he'd been slowly eating while reading, and he dropped the fork back to the plastic bowl that sat in his lap.

"Yes?" he asked, looking towards the younger man with the glasses in the door.

"You asked me to remind you to go see Mr. Dreyar at twelve thirty," James said.

Bickslow turned his wrist to look at the watch, and when he saw that it was indeed half past, he quickly moved his salad from his lap to the desk, marked his spot in the book, and pushed his chair out a little bit so he could sit up straight again. "Right, sorry. Thanks for that," he mumbled. Then, as he stood and walked around the desk to grab the black leather messenger back and unclasped both of the buckles at the front and lifted the flap, he looked back up to the door before James could close it behind him as he left, and called out, "You can probably finish early today, if you wanted."

"Sorry?"

"I mean, it's been a pretty quiet day so far, and I've gotta leave now anyway, so there's probably no harm in you knocking off a little earlier than you're supposed to, right?"

The assistant smiled with a nod as Bickslow swung the strap over his shoulder, having finished packing up his laptop, book, and everything else he'd need to get some work done later that night and over the weekend. "I suppose," James said quietly, instead moving to hold the door open for Bickslow as he walked towards it, shoving his phone in the pocket of his pants. "Thank you, Mr. Ther—Bickslow."

Bickslow smirked as James corrected himself. In just a short week, his new secretary had learned the ropes fairly quickly, and sure, it was probably because he had experience with the job before Bickslow had hired him, but there were still some things he was still getting the hang of. Bickslow's preferred name was one of those.

"No problem," Bickslow said, walking beside James as he headed towards his desk after closing the door to Bickslow's office behind him. Then, as he took a seat at his own chair in the desk closest to Bickslow's office, Bickslow steered away from the rows of cubicles in the centre of the large room that was mostly empty with the majority of people having left for lunch. With a wave as he looked over his shoulder, Bickslow called out, "Enjoy your weekend, James."

"You too."

And Bickslow would enjoy his weekend, because he'd enjoyed almost every single weekend he'd had in their new world. He got to spend them with Ingrid, and he loved that. Lucy practically got Ingrid all to herself during the week, because for the most part, Bickslow wasn't supposed to finish work until around four and five o'clock, but the weekends were his. The weekends were his while Lucy got a bit of a reprieve from running around after a six-month-old all day, every day. He loved that though. Ingrid was the reason he enjoyed his weekends.

Well, Ingrid was mostly the reason. The fact he was getting closer to Lucy was also part of the reason to enjoy the weekend. Bickslow didn't really know what they were doing, but it didn't really matter much. The point was that he'd found opportunities to have her against walls to steal kisses from her more than once that week without getting disturbed, and hey, he wasn't complaining. Not in the slightest.

But now, he actually had to get to the weekend, and he couldn't start the weekend until he'd left work, and he couldn't leave work until he told Laxus he was leaving, and Bickslow already knew that it was going to be a painful conversation.

So when the elevator came to a stop on the floor with Laxus' office, Bickslow didn't pay any attention to the few people he walked past in the corridor as he walked right down the end. He ignored Laxus' secretary at her desk right outside his door, and he pushed the double doors open and burst into Laxus' office.

Laxus looked up from where he sat at the small table about the size of his desk that sat on one side of the room, and so did Erza from where she sat on the other side of that table.

"Bickslow?" Laxus said, moving the stack of paperwork he had aside and pushing his chair away to stand from the table. "What are you doing here?"

Bickslow was internally freaking out. He hadn't expected Erza to be there, but it made sense considering the two essentially ran the company together. Telling Laxus he had to leave for the rest of the afternoon was one thing, but telling Erza too? That was a little terrifying, considering Erza was probably going to try and torture him to get the information out of him. It wasn't like Bickslow didn't want to tell everyone else who needed to know what was going on, because he did. It was just that he couldn't because he knew Lucy wanted to wait, just for a little bit longer, at least. Besides, he'd already told four people (five, if you included Mark as well), so he really shouldn't be telling anyone else as it was.

It was entirely up to Lucy now. Bickslow could wait. He could keep his excitement in check… For the most part.

So clearing his throat, he moved over to the two leather lounges that sat facing each other in the centre of the large office, and looked down at Laxus as he took a seat on the end of one, his arm over the backrest and his leg crossed over a knee. "I just thought I'd stop by and let you know I have to leave early today," he said, glancing up to Erza at the table just behind the lounges. "Like, now, actually."

"No," Laxus said after a moment, taking a sip from a glass of water as he kept his eyes on Bickslow, who only raised an eyebrow at the simple response.

Bickslow folded his arms. "No?"

"No," he said again. "Gramps has been on my back about your unexplained absences in the last week. You're not leaving. I'm sorry."

"You're not sorry, and I am leaving." Bickslow shrugged.

There was another long pause as the two stared back at each other through narrowed eyes. Erza remained impartial to the conversation, only glancing up occasionally form the papers she had in front of her. Laxus, on the other hand… Well, he knew Bickslow, and he knew that when Bickslow was determined to do something or get something, he wouldn't stop until he got whatever it is he wanted. The man was quite obviously set on leaving early for whatever reason, and Laxus had known him long enough to know that the former Seith mage was probably the only one out of himself, Freed, and Evergreen, that could actually see through his threats and everything else. Laxus knew that whatever he said or tried to threaten him with, Bickslow was going to be leaving early no matter what.

"Alright then," Laxus said as he stood from the lounge and turned to head back to the table where Erza sat. Then, as he took a seat in one of the office chairs that surrounded the glass table, he looked back up to Bickslow and said, "At least tell me what's so important to have you leaving in the middle of the day."

Bickslow shook his head. "Can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't."

Laxus arched a brow. "Does it have anything to do with Blondie?"

Erza looked up again then. "Has something happened to Lucy?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"I don't have time for this right now," Bickslow groaned as his rubbed his hands over his face. The fact they'd both asked whether it had something to do with Lucy was frustrating, because Bickslow couldn't say it didn't, because the plain truth was that it was essentially all about Lucy. Laxus would see right through a lie if he told one, so he couldn't even try and say that it wasn't about Lucy.

Besides, he just really didn't have time for their questions. He still had to get back home so he could go with Lucy to the prenatal appointment, rather than meet her there.

Taking a few steps backwards and towards the door, Bickslow glanced at his watch before he shoved his hand back in his pocket with his phone. "Look, I just can't talk about anything right now, okay?" he said. When he reached the doors and began to pull one open slowly, he looked towards Laxus who had continued to carefully watch him the entire time through narrowed eyes. "Laxus, I'll come around later tonight and I'll see if I can explain some things." Because Bickslow could see himself having to leave work occasionally just so he could go to all of her appointments and ultrasounds and such.

Sure, he didn't really know how often or frequent that would be, but he still wanted to go to all of them. Bickslow hoped that once Laxus knew what was going on, then he'd get off his back. Now, all he had to do was talk to Lucy about telling Laxus, and, well… He was hoping it would be a short conversation and she wouldn't mind.

As soon as they'd made it out of the building and into the carpark that was considerably quieter and not filled with mothers-to-be, Bickslow promptly burst into laughter. He'd been holding it in for so long, and it really had been a long time. He'd sat in a chair in that office with Lucy's obstetrician for over an hour, and for the most part, he really had been bored out of his mind, but there'd been a few times where he'd wanted to laugh, but he couldn't.

Because that would have been inappropriate. So he'd held it in.

One of the things that had made Bickslow want to laugh was the face the doctor gave Lucy when she said she wanted it to be treated like her first pregnancy, and that she hadn't done the entire thing not even a year prior with Ingrid, since on that particular day, Ingrid was only one day shy of being exactly six months old.

The face the doctor, Dr. Elise Delia, gave Lucy when she'd that had been absolutely priceless. It was almost as if her face alone had said what she so desperately wanted to say, which was probably something along the lines of, 'are you a complete fucking moron?' Because apparently, she'd been the one the other Lucy and Bickslow had chosen for the pregnancy with Ingrid; delivered her and all, according to the little anecdotes she'd given about Lucy's first pregnancy and birth once they'd taken their seats in front of her desk and made themselves comfortable.

But hey, it was pretty fair that Lucy ask that. Body-wise, it might have been Lucy's second pregnancy, but mentality-wise, it was her first, and Bickslow couldn't blame her for wanting to make sure she did everything right and didn't do anything to harm the baby, whether it be accidental or not (but it wasn't like it would be intentional, either).

So Bickslow sat there, keeping Ingrid from crying as he held her on his lap, and sort of listening to everything that Lucy (and himself, kinda) got told. Most of it Bickslow had already read during the week. He'd spent more time looking up everything and anything related to pregnancy instead of doing his actual work… at work. The things he'd found pretty interesting he'd sent to Lucy – like the fact that the baby was somewhere around the size of a blueberry or something-or-other – but he'd mostly done it all just so he could get some tips on how not to piss her off. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

But when the doctor had brought up something about a possible increased sex drive, Bickslow really did had to fight to keep his laughter in. At that point, it was Lucy's face that had been absolutely priceless as Dr. Delia went on about how it was completely safe and fine. And honestly, that wasn't even the best part. The best part (to Bickslow, anyway) was that Lucy had to be reminded that she should stop (Bickslow should too, technically) if she gets uncomfortable or feels any pain, because apparently, their counterparts weren't exactly into the whole gentle sex thing… Well, that was just how Bickslow understood it, after hearing the doctor remind Lucy of some unfortunate things he really didn't want to hear about.

Like, what guy wants to hear a conversation about bleeding of any goddamn sort after sex?

Yeah, exactly. Bickslow wasn't one of those guys who did want to hear about it, even if it was a little interesting (what could he say, he found almost everything interesting for some reason). Of course, he was somehow beginning to see why guys were so scared of fucking their girlfriends-wives-partners of some description while they were pregnant, because of the shit that he had heard from that doctor. It was kinda terrifying, he had to admit. Not that it really related to him, of course, because he wasn't fucking anyone that was pregnant (not that he wouldn't mind doing so, of course). But it was scary because in the unfortunate event that their partner of the female variety ever experiences anything that made Bickslow want to block his ears and pretend he wasn't hearing it (he was still a kid at heart, what could he say: he was immature), it would kind of be the guy's fault, and seriously, no one wants that.

It was a bit of an ego killer. Sort of.

Regardless of all that, it was a bit of a lie that hearing Lucy liked it a little rough was the best part. Sure, it was pretty damn amazing, because he could only imagine what Lucy was like in the bedroom (and damn, he was imagining it… more than usual), but it wasn't the absolute best thing about a rather fortunate symptom of pregnancy.

Bickslow's hands down, absolute favourite little thing about it all, was that there was an incredibly high chance Lucy was going to get horny at some point – possibly in the next few weeks, maybe. And hell, Bickslow was almost waiting for it to happen. He'd be the first to volunteer to… help her out. He would willingly satisfy her needs, should she let him.

Of course, it was entirely possible she would be completely off it for the next… well, eternity, most likely, because after all, neither really knew where they stood in terms of an actual relationship – if they were even in one at all. It was all too confusing, so they didn't talk about it. At all.

But when they'd been asked what date they'd possibly conceived on so the doctor could determine a due date and see if it matched up with the scan from that day, Bickslow had had to really hold back his laughter. Partly at Lucy's blush that was just not leaving any time soon, and partly because Lucy said she suspected it to be around the 14th February, which as it turns out, was the day before they found themselves in that world anyway. They'd already known that, though.

Bickslow had no idea why he found that so amusing, but he did. Maybe it was because it was just so close to when they'd found themselves in that situation, or maybe it was because the doctor was giving them both looks as if she wished to call them both morons; mostly at Lucy though, for apparently not knowing the first day of her last cycle or something-or-other. Bickslow tuned out for that part of the conversation.

Still, it seemed pretty damn accurate that it had been some time around that wonderful date, otherwise known as Valentine's Day, because they got given a due-date of around the first week of November, and Lucy was somewhere around the seven-week mark – give or take a few days or a week. Something like that.

It was all just really exciting, honestly.

So when they came up to their car in the carpark just outside the building and Bickslow still hadn't stopped laughing (he'd been holding it in for that long that he really just needed to let it all out), Lucy snatched the keys from his hands and instead went to get in the driver's seat. As much as she hated driving, she also valued her life, and she really didn't trust Bickslow to drive when he was having a laughing fit.

When they were stopped at a red light not too far from the hospital and Bickslow had somewhat calmed down, just chuckling now, Lucy glanced over for a second with her brow furrowed before she looked back to the cars in front of her. "What the hell are you even laughing at?" she demanded.

"Everything," he replied.

"Like…?"

Bickslow looked over to Lucy with a sly smirk. "You probably don't want to know." Because he didn't think Lucy would appreciate knowing the fact his laughter was pretty much over him being an immature person.

But Lucy really wanted to know. She'd only seen Bickslow laugh like that a few times (and that was saying something, because he laughed a lot, just never like that), and every time he'd told her what it was that had him doubling over almost and clutching his sides from laughing too much, she'd found herself doing almost the same.

She was curious.

But she'd have to wait until she got home, because on the off chance she'd find it hilarious, she really didn't want to get in a car accident – especially with Ingrid in the car.

So when the lights turned green and Lucy waited for the cars in front of her to move, she glanced back towards Bickslow to see the sly smirk still in place, and when she frowned, thinking it was something to do with her that had made him laugh so hard, she mumbled, "I do want to know, so tell me when we get home, alright?"

"As you wish…" he said, shrugging, before he turned to look out the window as the car started to move again. If Lucy really wanted to know, then he'd tell her just what it was that he'd found so amusing.

Who knows, maybe her reaction would be amusing?

Except it hadn't been that amusing to Lucy – nor had her reaction been - especially not the part involving all of her hormones making her want something she was set on not needing. Or wanting.

Nope. She wasn't going to get horny, so Bickslow could wish all he wanted. The fact of the matter was that she wasn't going to be sleeping with anyone, least of all Bickslow. She may like kissing him – a lot – but she wasn't going to sleep with him. Besides, even if she did want to, there's no way in hell he'd still find her even remotely close to attractive or even want to sleep with her himself, not when she was getting bigger and bigger. Soon, it wasn't going to be just a tiny, little, mostly bloating, little bit of a bump. It was going to be a full blown bump, and it was going to get in the way of things.

But hey, she'd signed up for that. She wanted it, and so did Bickslow. She'd just have to get over it until November, and being that it was only really the middle of March, she still had a long way to go.

So when Lucy made her way towards the bedroom in her usual pyjamas that consisted of pink and purple striped cotton shorts and a singlet in a light blue, Bickslow followed just behind her, switching off the lights in the living room and hall as he went. It was barely even eight thirty, but it was a Friday night, and as soon as he walked in the door on a Friday afternoon, he instantly felt exhausted. Bickslow was still adjusting to the schedule of his new life, given that for so long, he'd had anything but a steady routine to follow. Sure, they'd been there a little over a month, but it had been a big change.

Of course, he was liking that big change. He was liking it a lot.

Lucy climbed up onto the bed after switching on the lamp on her nightstand. Once she'd made herself comfortable, lying back against the pillows and propping her neck and shoulders up slightly, she reached for the book she'd been reading for the last couple of days that was sitting on her nightstand. It was just a pregnancy book she'd found sitting on the bottom shelf of the bookcase in the living room; a 'what to expect when you're expecting' kind of thing. So far, it had been pretty enlightening and interesting. It was nice to know what was going on inside of her.

But when Bickslow collapsed onto the bed just next to her with a groan, his feet still hanging off the edge from laying down diagonally, Lucy couldn't stifle her giggle.

"I'm tempted to go to bed right now," he mumbled, sitting up on his elbows slightly.

"Then do it."

"Not yet. Still a little bit too early for me." And it was. No matter how tired he was and how much he felt like he really could fall asleep, he wasn't going to bed at eight thirty. Besides, he still had to go and see Laxus, and he felt like putting that off for some reason. Though, it probably had something to do with the fact that he hadn't actually talked to Lucy about it.

So when Lucy went back to quietly reading her book, Bickslow found himself tilting his head to the side and staring at her belly just in front of him. He really did think it was cute, and honestly, just absolutely amazing.

When it came to women being pregnant, he'd always had a lack of interest in the subject. Great, you're having a baby. Awesome. Why the hell should he care about it?

But with Lucy being pregnant, he really did care. A lot. She had a person growing inside of her, right that very moment, and she would for the next seven odd months. Her body was home for the next seven months, and it was going to provide everything that baby needed until it was ready to come out and Bickslow got to hold his or her tiny hand, and Bickslow couldn't wait until he got to do that. He couldn't wait until he got to meet that baby, because it was his. It was his baby just as much as Ingrid was his daughter.

The new world had made Bickslow change his views and opinions on almost everything, and he really didn't think they were all that bad. With Lucy carrying his baby (seriously, even though they hadn't done the deed themselves, it was still his), he couldn't help but see the entire process as amazing.

And a little beautiful, if he was honest with himself. He really couldn't wait for the next seven months.

Damn. Being a parent had made him soft, but hey, he didn't care. At all.

But suddenly, he realised staring at her belly wasn't enough, so he inched forward on the bed and gently rested his head on it instead.

Lucy flinched from the sudden movement, but when she lowered the book to see past it, she smiled softly. "You right there?" she asked as she closed the book and put it back on the nightstand.

"Is this… okay?" Bickslow responded, turning his head to look at Lucy instead as an arm draped over her to lightly rest his hand by her waist.

She smiled again with a slight nod. "It's fine." So it was probably a little weird, but it was actually nice.

And they stayed like that in silence for a few minutes; Bickslow with his eyes closed and Lucy with her hands clasped just in front of where his face was. Lucy had managed to sneak a picture of it on her phone after he'd closed his eyes, and when she'd giggled, he'd opened one to look up with a confused expression.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" Bickslow mumbled then, opening his eyes just in time to see Lucy shrug and the corners of her mouth downturn.

"I don't really want to think too much about that yet…" she replied quietly.

Bickslow sat up suddenly and he moved to kneel over her and take her face gently in his hands as he leant down slightly, his knees on either side of her hips still. He knew why Lucy didn't want to think about it, because she'd let it slip earlier in the week when he'd mentioned she didn't seem as happy about everything as she'd let on. Bickslow had done his own research into the likelihood of it while at work, so he knew that the chances of Lucy miscarrying were considerably lower now that there was a heartbeat within the expected range, and he knew that Lucy also knew that because he'd told her.

But she was still worried about it, and he didn't really know how to make it better. He didn't know if he could, because it was just one of those things he didn't think he'd ever be able to understand.

He could still try, though.

"Stop that," he said quietly, looking down at her with a frown. "You know as well as I do that it's unlikely to happen."

"But it's still possible."

"But unlikely," he argued. "Please just stop worrying about it, okay? Even the doctor said you didn't have to worry as much now that you've seen the heartbeat. That's a really good sign, remember?"

It wasn't like Bickslow was entirely certain everything would be fine with the baby, either, because he wasn't. There was a tiny part that worried about it, but it was at the back of his mind, because he chose not to focus on it. He was choosing to believe that everything would be fine, and he needed Lucy to believe in that too.

Of course, in the unlikely event she did lose the baby, Bickslow would still be crushed, and it would probably hurt more because he'd let himself be too excited and get too attached and used to the idea of having a baby. But… there was also a part of him that had decided, in the also unlikely event that Lucy decided she really did want a baby, other than Ingrid, then he'd give that to her.

And it was weird – even Bickslow knew that. He'd be willing to give her a baby if that was what she really wanted. One that was entirely, one hundred and ten percent hers – theirs.

If that thought alone was weird enough to Bickslow, then it was the fact he was beginning to realise he actually cared about her more than he'd originally thought, and that was scary. It was scary not knowing his own feelings, especially when they were ones he'd never known had been there for god knows how long and he was experiencing them all for the first time.

Lucy continued to look up at Bickslow hovering over her. She really did know she shouldn't be worrying as much as she was, because Bickslow was right – she'd been told it wasn't something that was likely to happen, and the doctor herself was happy with how everything looked. But still… no matter how low the chance was, it was still possible, and that's what was stuck in the forefront of her mind. It wasn't like she wanted to be worrying about it, because if anything, that constant reminder that it could happen was stopping her from truly enjoying it.

She wanted to enjoy being pregnant to the fullest, because she knew that it wasn't something she'd get to do again, because really, she was going to have her hands full with two kids that were barely going to be over a year apart in age. Besides, there was no telling what her relationship with Bickslow would be like in the future, because until they sorted out what was going on between them right then, there was no point in even discussing anything like that.

But Bickslow was still right. She needed to stop worrying about it as much as she was.

So nodding after a long moment of just staring up into the dark red eyes, she smiled weakly and whispered, "Okay."

Bickslow knew enough about Lucy to know that she wasn't just going to stop worrying right that second. No, she'd still worry, but… he could see that she was at least going to try and get past it all. It was progress, and that was a step in the right direction. He still hoped that she wouldn't be worried about it at all, but he really didn't think she'd ever just completely accept it. Not for a while, anyway.

"Good," he said, quickly leaning down a pressing a light kiss to her lips before going back down to where his head had formerly been. Except when he was hovering over her stomach, he paused for a short moment, and instead reached for the hem of her shirt and rolled it up slightly, exposing the soft flesh beneath it.

"What are you doing…?" she asked cautiously, her brow furrowing in confusion as she held the bunched up fabric and stopped it from going any higher – not that Bickslow had intended for it to go any higher or expose any more of her.

But of course, he ignored her question, even though he knew he was really pushing the boundaries again – something he'd been doing a lot of lately, but as it turns out, they were getting further and further away and there was more he could do and get away with, much like Lucy could. Progress, right?

Progress.

So after pressing a light kiss to her belly that had the muscles jerk slightly from the sudden and unexpected contact, he instead went to rest his forehead against her while his hands stayed on her hips. "Now, you, even tinier human," he said, staring at the soft skin right beneath him. "You need to stay healthy, and happy, and be good to Cosplayer. Because if you're not, you're just gonna make her worry, and then you're gonna make me worry, and you really shouldn't make your parents worry before you're even born. That's just mean, alright?"

"You're such a dork sometimes," Lucy laughed, folding her hands across the top of her stomach again when he went back to using her as a human pillow.

He grinned as he lifted his gaze to look back up. "I'm always a dork." That's just who Bickslow was, and there would never be a day where he saw it as anything but a compliment. "But seriously, have you thought about whether it's a boy or a girl at all?" he asked.

And there was another moment of silence as Lucy pursed her lips in thought. She had thought about it. It was just one of those things that had been in the back of her mind when she'd been trying to fall asleep at night since she'd found out she was pregnant. But of course, she'd stopped herself from thinking about it too much, because she didn't want to get more attached to the idea of it than she already was. Lucy didn't want to let herself get too far ahead in terms of thinking about certain things, to start fantasising about everything, only to have it taken away. It would absolutely destroy her if that were to happen.

But she was really going to try and put her worry behind her, for the most part. She had to, because until she did, she wasn't going to be able to enjoy it all, and she really wanted to do that.

"I think… it's going to be a girl," she said, grabbing another pillow and sticking it behind her head to lift her up more. It wasn't so much that she thought it would be a girl, but it was more hoping it would be a girl. Sure, she'd still be happy if it was a boy, but… She just wanted another girl, and there really was a tiny part of her that believed it would be, even though it was still really early.

"Well, I think it's going to be a boy," Bickslow said matter-of-factly.

"We'll just have to wait and see who's right then, won't we?"

"I guess we will," he chuckled. "I bet you a hundred dollars it's a boy though."

Lucy rolled her eyes then. "You're forgetting that your money is also my money."

"True," he sighed, humming in thought for a moment. Sometimes he forgot that they actually shared a bank account – all of his money went in there from work, and all of Lucy's book royalties also went into it. Betting money was completely out of the question.

"How about…" she mumbled, looking up at the pattern the lampshade made on the ceiling as she thought of a wager. "You owe me dinner if I'm right."

"Dinner?" A smirk pulling at his lips when Lucy shrugged and made a point of looking anywhere else but back at Bickslow. Of course, he'd still seen the pink that dusted her cheeks. "I'd do dinner whether you're right or not," he said.

"O-oh… Well… I don't really know then…" Is he saying he'd go on an actual date?!

Bickslow laughed as he pushed himself to lean on one elbow as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He rolled onto his side slightly to fish it out, and when he opened up the messages, he frowned when he saw the unread one from Laxus.

Are you still coming over or what?

Oh. Right. He still had to do that. After all, he did tell Laxus he'd be over later, and it was getting late as it was. He might as well go and get it done.

"I've gotta go talk to Laxus," he groaned, rolling back to the side of the bed and sluggishly pushing himself to his feet after sending a short reply to Laxus saying he'd be over soon.

Lucy sat up on her elbows after pushing her singlet back down to cover her stomach. "What for?"

He waved his hand dismissively when he got to the door and shrugged. "He's pissed at me for leaving so often. Just gotta go give him an excuse for now, I guess." Sure, he'd been planning on talking to Lucy about telling Laxus, but he really didn't want to have that conversation then. Another day, perhaps. Besides, Bickslow wasn't going to have to leave work early or take any days off for the next few weeks because there were no more appointments for a few weeks, so as long as he could give Laxus an excuse, it would be fine.

That, or he could promise that it would all be explained soon. You know, once Lucy was ready to start telling people.

But before Bickslow could get too far away, Lucy pushed herself up into a sitting position with her legs crossed under her, and called out, loud enough for Bickslow to hear, "You can tell him."

Bickslow turned then and came back to stand in the doorway, his brow furrowed. "Huh?"

"You can tell Laxus, if you want," she mumbled, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth. If it was already causing problems for Bickslow at work, then she didn't think it was fair she keep it a secret for much longer. Anyway, she really did only have a couple of weeks before everyone would figure it out on their own, and she did want to get it out on her own terms. "I know I said I wanted to wait, but you can tell him."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Lucy nodded. "We can tell everyone else next week or something." Because she still wanted to keep it a secret for a little while longer. Telling one person wouldn't be that big of a deal, because if anything, they'd both expected Mira to have told him by that point. It had a been a week, and anything involving babies, well… she usually had trouble keeping her mouth shut.

Bickslow followed Laxus out onto the balcony at the back of the penthouse suite, and when he saw the city lit up all around him from such a great height, he had to stop himself from just staring at it in awe. They'd been in that world for more than a month, but he was still getting used to it all. The new surroundings were the hardest to get used to.

"Want anything to drink?" Laxus asked as he walked behind the small bar and opened his own beer.

"No thanks," Bickslow mumbled. He internally shook his head when he took a seat on one of the cushioned wicker chairs by the hot-tub. He never turned down alcohol. Ever. The new world and life had changed a lot of things.

Besides, he was there to explain things, not drink.

So as Laxus took a long sip from the glass bottle and took a seat on the matching wicker lounge, one arm over the backrest and his leg folded over his knee again, he looked towards Bickslow. Even in the dim lighting from the few lights around the balcony and from the moon, Laxus could tell something was clearly troubling his friend, and he was curious.

"So," Laxus said clearly after sitting in silence for a moment. "Are you going to explain the whole absence thing for the last week?"

"Uh… Yeah…" he mumbled. Then, as he sighed and rubbed his hands down his face, he sat back in the comfortable chair and thought about what it was he was actually going to say. "Where to start?" he asked himself, more than anything. Until he'd arrived at Laxus', he'd thought it would be an easy conversation, and that it would be easy to explain, but suddenly, it wasn't.

Telling Gajeel, Levy, and Mira had been one thing, because they'd basically already suspected it and he was only confirming their suspicions. Claire was much the same, because her husband had told her.

Laxus, though… Laxus knew nothing (or so he assumed), so he really didn't know where to begin. He didn't even know why it was so hard.

"Maybe the beginning?" Laxus asked, taking another sip.

Bickslow shook his head then. "That won't work." Because really, starting at the beginning would be way too confusing. He could only think of one way to start the actual conversation, and that was with the most important thing of all. So sighing again, he lifting his arms to rest him on the armrests, and shrugging, he said, "Lucy's pregnant."

"She's what?" Laxus demanded, spitting out his drink onto the ground and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You heard me."

Laxus leant forward to place his bottle on the coffee table just in front of the lounge. "Are you serious? She's fucking pregnant?"

"Yeah." Bickslow nodded. "And… Before you ask, no, I didn't sleep with her," he said, almost regrettably.

"Shit, dude…" Laxus whispered, sitting back again and crossing his arms. The two of them having Ingrid was one thing, but finding out Lucy was pregnant? Damn, that had to be frustrating. Or so Laxus believed. "What are you going to do?"

Bickslow knew exactly what that question meant, and he figured that once everyone else knew, they were going to be answering it again. It was expected, though, so even though he thought it was a little bit annoying, he couldn't really get too irritated by it. "We're keeping it," he replied.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Laxus arched a brow. "Blondie's idea?"

"And mine," Bickslow said, narrowing his eyes slightly. That one almost hit a nerve, because he didn't see how Laxus could assume it was entirely Lucy's idea to keep the baby. Hell, Bickslow figured Laxus of all people would understand what it was like to love a kid just because it was theirs, just because he and Mira had Blake. Why would the baby be any different, especially when they all knew Bickslow loved Ingrid?

Laxus drew back slightly from the sudden shift in the man's demeanour, and from that, he knew Bickslow was serious about keeping the baby Lucy was apparently having. Sure, Laxus didn't really understand it, but he also didn't have to. It wasn't his life, but hey, whatever his friend wanted to do was completely fine with him.

But Lucy being pregnant didn't really explain why Bickslow had missed a few days over the last week, most of them unexplained.

So shaking his head, he reached for the beer again, and after taking another sip, he looked back to Bickslow. "Okay, so Blondie's knocked up, but that doesn't really explain why you missed work," he stated.

Bickslow nodded slowly. Now it was time for the explaining where hopefully, everything would make sense. "It kinda does," he said. "Alright, so. Story time."

"Oh, joy…" Laxus said, rolling his eyes.

"Last Friday. I went home because, you know… Kind of got mad and needed to calm myself down because of the entire affair thing," And for the most part, he'd actually been able to move past it. There was still a tiny bit inside him that hated it all, but somehow, getting closer to Lucy with the baby and everything had let him forget all of it, and Lucy was dealing with it all a lot better, too. "That was when we found out about the baby. Like, in the space between me going home and going back to work."

"Right…"

"Yeah. Okay, so now Monday. Lucy ended up in hospital because Mira freaked out about the baby getting hurt—"

"Wait, Mira knew?" Laxus cut in.

Bickslow nodded as a smirk pulled at his lips. "Yeah. Mira's the one who made Lucy think she might have been pregnant in the first place. Also, Gajeel and Levy know. No one else knows yet."

"Of course she did…"

"Anyway," Bickslow said, chuckling lightly as he sat back in the chair again. "Lucy got sent home to rest, and since her doctor was actually a neighbour from across the hall, he called his wife to have her watch Ingrid for the rest of the afternoon, so we basically just slept the rest of the day."

"So Lucy gets put on bed rest for the rest of the day, and somehow, that translates into you getting bed rest too?" Laxus asked, slightly bemused. Bickslow's stories were always a little confusing, if not somewhat entertaining sometimes.

Bickslow nodded again. "I told you, we were at the hospital until like four o'clock with Levy and Gajeel. I was practically the walking dead on Monday morning."

"Right, whatever…" Laxus rolled his eyes, taking another drink from the bottle. "What about today?" he asked.

"Lucy had an appointment and I wanted to go."

"Appointment?"

"Yeah. Like, ultrasound and shit. Pretty neat, actually," he said with a grin.

Laxus rubbed at his eyes when he leant forward to place the bottle back on the coffee table. "Couldn't you have just told me all of this earlier?"

"No, because I would have had to explain the entire thing, and I wasn't doing that with Erza in the room. Besides, we're not telling people yet."

"You just told me."

"Because you were being a dick."

Laxus smirked. "I'm still your boss."

"And you're still a dick," Bickslow chuckled. He'd always insulted Laxus. Always. He was probably one of the only people who could get away with calling him names, and it was just because they'd known each other for so long and were best friends. Laxus knew Bickslow always told the truth, but he never really said anything to seriously offend someone. Bickslow was the type of person to be blunt, but still care about someone's feelings.

He was a weird person, but everyone knew that.

"But seriously though," Bickslow said after he'd finished insulting his friend. "I kind of need you to get off my back if I miss a few days here and there over the next few months."

Laxus sighed. "I take it there's going to be a lot of these so called appointments?" he asked.

"Every month or so for a while," Bickslow shrugged. Then, he pushed his hands into the armrests to stand, and slowly made his way around the outdoor lounge suite and to the glass doors leading back into the apartment. "Anyway," he said, stopping just by the door as Laxus slowly pushed himself to his feet as well. "I explained it all, and I'm tired. I'm just gonna head home."

But Laxus wasn't entirely convinced Bickslow had explained all of it. He felt like there was something else that would make the entire picture come together, but he wasn't entirely sure what.

So before Bickslow could make his way back inside, Laxus' voice stopped him. "Are you sure you two are doing the right thing?" he asked cautiously, folding his arms across his chest.

Laxus may not have understood all of it entirely, but the fact that Bickslow and Lucy were so set on keeping the baby was something that didn't quite make sense. He'd known Bickslow for years, and he knew Bickslow wasn't the biggest fan of kids. Hell, he hated them, and he'd made that quite clear on multiple occasions. Sure, they'd all seen him with Ingrid, and he quite clearly loved her – like any normal parent would love their child – but Laxus still couldn't quite see Bickslow wanting another one, whether it was his child or not.

Something just didn't quite add up, somehow.

"We talked about this," Bickslow said quietly as he looked over his shoulder and shoved his hands in his pockets. "And yeah, we're sure it's the right thing to do." But even if it wasn't, Bickslow didn't see how it was really anyone else's concern. Sure, they'd have to know, and sure, they were quite obviously going to be concerned about the same thing Laxus was, but still, it was really none of their business.

It only really mattered to Lucy and Bickslow whether it was the right thing, and they were both convinced that keeping the baby was the right thing to do for them.

Laxus rubbed at his eyes again then. It was almost driving him insane – the nagging feeling that there was something else right in front of him that he couldn't see. He just wanted to know what it was, but he couldn't think of the right question or the right words.

"But… why?" he asked instead. It was the only thing he could think of at the time. "Why are you so convinced another baby is a good idea?"

Bickslow turned around then and folded his arms as he took his hands out of his pockets. Laxus' questions were on the verge of annoying, and Bickslow wasn't one to yell or get mad often, but he knew he would be soon if Laxus didn't stop. He didn't need his friend questioning everything in his personal life.

"It doesn't matter if it's a good idea or not," Bickslow responded. "The fact is we both want it, so we're keeping it. We're having a baby, alright? Just deal with it."

Laxus groaned, his hands running down his face. "I just don't see why you'd want to keep it so desperately. Most people wouldn't be so sure unless they were like, in love or something," he shot back just as quickly. And as soon as the words had left his mouth, Laxus finally saw what had been in front of him the entire time, and he dropped his hands to stare back at his friend in shock. "Shit," he whispered. "You are."

Bickslow could only shake his head as he looked down to the ground. Nope. Nope. Nope. The conversation wasn't supposed to have taken that turn.

Fuck.

Without a single word, Bickslow turned back around and made his way back onto Laxus' apartment, leaving the blond man stunned and speechless on his own balcony as he made his way back to the elevator just so he could go home.

How the hell was Bickslow supposed to respond with that?

Yes? No? Maybe?

Because hell, it was actually entirely possible he was, and that was fucking terrifying. He didn't want to believe it, because it didn't make any sense.

When? How? Why?

Bickslow so desperately wanted to know the answers to those questions, because for once in his life, he wanted something to actually make sense. He wanted something to be as clear as day, because right up until that very moment, there were very few things he was one hundred percent certain of and completely understood.

Whether he was in love with Lucy was not one of those things he was certain of, and if anything, it was the thing he wanted to know the most.

But damn it, it was that goddamn book.

Ever since he'd started reading that goddamn book about themselves in their old world, he'd begun to see that he cared about her… maybe too much. He'd begun to question whether he was actually in love with her himself, and it was scary as all hell.