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"Mère, le Détective Seely vient d'apporter un nouveau corps. C'est dans l'autopsie un." Eilís looked through her files and pulled out the paperwork for her mother.

"Merci," Jordan bid, "Je dois déposer ce rapport et je m'en rendrai après. Nigel, veux-tu me donner un coup de main?"

Nigel sat at his desk, rubbing his temple, "You both know that I don't speak French, right?"

"Mes excuses, Papa." Eilís walked over and kissed the top of his head, "Detective Seely brought in a body and Mère is next on rotation. She'll be heading to Autopsy One after she drops off her report and she asked for your help."

Nigel waved Eilís off as she accepted the latest incoming sheets and started back to the Crypt. Jordan walked over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

"I'm not sure which is more bizarre, that she knows more language than you do or that she likes helping out at the morgue." Nigel sighed, his heart tightening as he realized his little girl wasn't so little anymore.

Eilís had started volunteering at the morgue for school credit when she was thirteen, and they hadn't been able to get rid of her since. A few weeks back they had celebrated her eighteenth birthday and each day she was looking more and more like her mom, with the smarts to match.

Graduation was just around the corner and Eilís was already thinking about going for a degree in mortuary science or possibly following in her father's steps. Of course, neither Jordan nor Nigel had ever even hinted at wanting her to go into medicine or forensics, but they also couldn't have been any more proud knowing that she admired their work and wanted to be part of its legacy.

"I'm not sure what else you'd expect from our spawn, Nige."

"Her mother's beauty, her father's oddity…though, I still have no idea where she got her sense of style from. What would you call that?" Nigel crossed his arms, turning to Jordan who was looking through the wall file, "40's Oxford student?"

"Be nice." She warned, whacking him on the head with her report.

The main doors popped open, and the final member of the Cavanaugh-Townsend horde waltzed in.

Jordan just shook her head, giving a mother's eyeroll, "This one's on you."

"Be nice." Nigel hushed; his eyes playful as Jordan headed for Autopsy One. Forever composed, Nigel smiled as their thirteen-year-old made his way over, dressed head to toe in the darkest shades of black he could find. His hair was a greasy mess, and his eyes were doing their best impersonation of a raccoon.

"Please say you didn't nick your sister's this time?"

"No, I bought my own."

"So that's where the fiver in my wallet disappeared to." Nigel mused as Mór hopped onto his desk, his feet just touching the ground. Their youngest was the shortest of the four, being but a tower instead of a skyscraper like the rest of them, and he'd always been their odd little duckling, never quite fitting into one category.

Mór picked up one of the knickknacks on Nigel's desk and began fiddling with it. His father watched him, wondering what was going on in his hormone-infested brain.

They figured this latest chapter was to be expected at Mór's age – after all, Eilís had gone through something similar as she sought to figure out who she was – and when he started showing interest in the realm of macabre like his father, they didn't give it much though either. The fringe was the norm in their house, where topics usually revolved around autopsies and B horror films, but the past few weeks their son had been growing distant, refusing even to talk to Nigel, who had always been the kids' go-to.

"Next time, ask please." Nigel reprimanded gently.

Mór nodded and set the snow globe back down, "So did you tell the dude he was the Hurst's son?"

Nigel pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, "And please stop eavesdropping on our conversations." A few weeks back, Jordan and Nigel had been enjoying a quiet evening on the rooftop, believing themselves to be quite alone as they polished off a bottle of wine discussing their latest discovery. As it turned out, Leo Fulton was not, in fact, Leo Fulton but instead had been raised by his kidnappers as a replacement for the son they had lost. Jordan and Nigel had been weighing the pros and cons on whether to share the news with Leo and completely turn his life upside down or to let the past lie.

"Did you tell him?" Mór pressed, his eyes too serious for one his age.

Nigel looked to his son, his brow knit, "Yeah, we did."

"How'd he take it?" The boy asked with a sniff, reaching next for a plush voodoo doll.

"As well as he can, I guess." Nigel shrugged, "His parents get a second chance with him, but it's going to take him a long time to figure things out." Nigel tapped his finger against his mouth, the pieces starting to come together, "It just makes me glad that you'll never have to deal with that."

His son stared at him, and Nigel added, "I mean, I remember the day you came into this world. With that odd little birthmark of yours behind your left ear, and those eyes," Nigel grinned, feeling lucky that both kids had ended up with his eyes, the only part of himself that he liked, "Of course, I can understand the heartache Mr. Fulton must have felt when he lost his son, but I could never in a million years replace you. It's just unthinkable." Nigel shook his head, "And, trust me, I could spot a phony a mile away if anyone tried to pass one off on me."

"Really?" Mór's eyes were tender, childlike again.

Nigel leaned forward, lovingly squeezing his son's skinny knees, "Really." With a chuckle, Nigel grabbed a couple tissues, "You are definitely ours. Neither your mother nor I have ever figured out how to properly apply eyeliner, and you seem to have inherited the same trait."

Mór laughed as Nigel wiped off as much of the black gunk as he could, "Eilís figured it out."

"That's because she watched one of those YouTube tutorials." Nigel smiled, "She also has a 4.0 and wears an abnormal amount of pearls." He leaned in and playfully whispered, "I'm pretty sure there might have been an alien abduction involved there."

Mór's eyes grew as Nigel threw away the tie-dyed tissues.

"Hey," Nigel rapped the desk, an idea coming to him, "I have to go help Mum, but I have tomorrow off. What do you say we check out the new comic bookstore that opened 'round the corner, we can head to Sushi Garden for lunch after, hum? Make a day of it, just the two of us."

His young face brightened, "Yeah, that sounds awesome!"

"It's a date then!" Nigel threw his arm around Mór's shoulder as the pair started back towards reception, his son was already bubbling over with all the things they could do together tomorrow; his troubles long forgotten.

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