Lara looked up as Jean-Yves walked into the room a short, tubby man in his twentys, though months of stress and sleepless nights had left him looking older than his years. Thick mousey-blonde hair waved down to his shoulders. A white shirt clung to his chest, and his beige trousers were pulled far up his body.

"Lara!" he exclaimed. "My dear, you are wll. How is everything?"

"Great." Lara smiled at the fat frenchman, a pang of love in her heart.

"Good, Good." Jean-Yves grinned. "You want some wine, oui?"

"Thank you." Lara stood up and followed him into the kitchen. Jean-Yves poured the wine, picked up the glasses and turned round. There was a loud crash as he dropped them on the floor. He started at Lara. Her beautiful figure was ruined, her stomach huge. She must be eight months gone. What happened eight months ago? Oh. Oh no...

"Lara!" Jean-Yves gasped, a look of terror in his eyes. "What...? Who...?"

"I don't know."

"You...don't know? But...we..."

"I know. But me and Pierre..."

"Pierre?!!!"

"I was drunk! I was foolish!"

"Oh." Jean-Yves frowned. "I suppose it was like that with me?"

"No, I..." Lara stopped short.

"How could you?" Tears of rage stung in Jean-Yves' eyes.

Lara, suddenly angry, replied "'Well, they were both one time things. Not like I'd do it again."

Jean-Yves reeled back as if he had been slapped. He thought what he and Lara had shared had been that night had been special, magical. Not something that was just tossed away. Lara had been upset, distressed. He home had been raided, and artifact stolen. She had come to his home in need of a friend, a shoulder to cry on. Jean-Yves had took her in, comforted her. And then...

"Jean-Yves, you've got to help me!" Lara's urgent voice cut into her thoughts. "There's a 50% chance that the baby's yours."

Jean-Yves touced her shoulder with affection. He realised he wanted this baby, wanted to be with Lara, bring it up together. But...what if it was Pierre's? Could he face bringing up...someone elses baby?

"You and Pierre..." Jean-Yves started. "Did you..do it before or after..."

Lara closed her eys and gulped. "After." she whispered.

Somehow, this felt worse. If it had been before, then maybe he would have felt better. But now he felt as it he hadn't been good enough for her, she had seeked refuge else where...

"How long after?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. Lara gasped.

"The same night."

"The same night?" Jean-Yves voice raised, despite himself. How could she? She had come to his at eight, left at ten...Did she go to Pierre's straight away or wait awhile? He looked questionly at Lara.

"When I left yours I was upset about what we had done. We were friends, this wasn't suppose to happen between us. I started crying in an alleyway. Then someone came up behind me, embraced me, I felt his minty breath on my neck. Pierre. He led me back to his place, we..."

"I can guess." Jean-Yves spat. He was hurt. A single tear rolled down his cheek. He turned away, ashamed. Lara saw the tear.

"Jean-Yves, I don't love him. I...I love you." She told him.

Jean-Yves paused. So long he had waited for those words. He turned round and hugged he.

"Oh Lara" he wept, more tears flowing. "I love you too."

Lara pulled away.

"I must go now." She said, walking out of the door. "I'll call you. Honestly. Tomorrow. I will." Tears choked in her voice, and she ran down the dark road.

She ran more streets until finally she stopped at a small, blue door. It opened, and there was Pierre,

"Lara!" Pierre said happily. The he caught of her stomach. "Lara."

"Pierre." Their eyes locked. Pierre slowly moved towards her, putting his hands on her shoulders. Then he leaned foward and their lips met. But Lara quickily pulled away. "Jean-Yves..." she started.

"Jean-Yves?" Pierre exclaimed. "But I thought it was mine..."

Lara shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I don't know." she whispered.

Lara explained what had happened on that night eight months ago. By the time she had finished it was 11:00pm. She turned to go when Pierre caught her hand.

"Lara, stay here." he pleaded. Lara stopped and turned back.

"Pierre..." She stopped. She had told Jean-Yves she didn't love Pierre, but now she felt different. Pierre was not like Jean-Yves, yet she knew she loved him just as much.

"Lara, I don''t care if the baby is Jean-Yves', I...I love you, Lara." Pierre let go of her hand.

Lara winched. It was just like Jean-Yves' house earlier. Shoud she say she loved him or keep quiet?

Lara hugged Pierre, held onto him tight. "I know you do." she whispered. She let go and left.

Lara didn't want to go home, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep. Instead, she walked to the house of the one person she knew would comfort her.

The door opened before she had even knocked. He noticed her pregnancy straight away. He looked pityingly at Lara.

"I don't know who's it is." Lara sniffed.

"What are the options?"

"Jean-Yves or Pierre."

"Who do you want to be the father?"

"I don't know." Lara sighed. "Jean-Yves is so kind, gentle, loving, yet Pierre is so witty, funny, exciting..." Lara smiled weakly. "If only they could, like, morph into one."

"So..." he grinned cheekily. "You have a fetish for Frenchmen?"

Lara giggled. "You could say that." she laughed. Then all at once, her face turned serious.

"Who do you think should be the father? I mean, who do you think I should live with?" she asked him.

"Why live with either of them?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Why not live on your own?

"But...But I want the baby to have a father."

"Yes, but the one that makes a good father nessiscarily make a good lover?" He handed Lara a glass of orange juice.

"Neither of them would make a good father." Lara gulped down the cold drink and laughed bitterly.

"Orange juice is suppose to be a good method of birth control, you know" Lara told him. He looked puzzled.

"I thought that was instead of...you know?" he smiled

Lara stood up. "I'd best be off. Go to be back...AH!" Lara grimanced.

"Lara, what is it?" he asked, scared. Lara started breathing heavily.

"I think...the baby...is coming" she gasped. He picked her up in his arms and carried her into his car. They arrived at the hospital and as Lara was rushed into the maternity ward, he phoned Jean-Yves and Pierre. They both arrived at the same time, so he left.

"This is all YOUR fault!" Pierre hissed.

"MY fault? If YOU hadn't got her worked up, she wouldn't have gone into an early labour!" Jean-Yves fumed.

Five hours later and they were still arguing. A nurse came out of Lara's room.

"Its a girl." she beamed. Pierre and Jean-Yves rushed into the maternity room and there was Lara, with her baby.

"She has my nose!" Pierre squealed.

"She has my eyes!" Jean-Yves cooed.

"Hello, little Phyllis." Pierre smiled

"Phyllis? Her name is Jean-Yva!" Jean-Yves objected.

"Her name is Zanthia-Miranda!" Lara protested.

"Zanthia-Miranda?" Pierre and Jean-Yves said in digust. With that, they walked out. Lara broke down in tears as he walked in. Lara looked up. She wondered where he had gone after driving her to the hospital.

"Oh." Lara sobbed. "Its not fair! They both think I'm a slut. I'll never find a father for this baby."

"Why have its biological father?" he asked. "Why not have someone else?"

"No." Lara sighed. "That wouldn't be right. No, I'll just have to find out who the father is and live with him...if he wants me to." Lara sighed again.

So a few weeks later, Lara took Zanthia-Miranda for a DNA test.

"Well, its not Mr. Dupont's." The nurse told her. Lara sighed. "So its Jean- Yves?"

"Err...no." The nurse told her who the father was and Lara gasped. Then it seemed too good to be true. She remembered a third person those eight months ago. She had been drunk, but now it all came flooding back. It had been the best part of that night...she couldn't believe her luck. He was father and lover material, and she had a crush on him since the day they had met, and she knew he felt the same way. She bundled Zanthia-Miranda into her pram and pushed her to his house. He had shown her so much support when she had gone into labour, driving her to the hospital and all. She rapped on the door. He opened it.

"Lara...and Zanthia-Miranda...what a surprise" he smiled. Lara grinned.

"She's yours."

"Mine?" He looked biwildered, then embarrassed. "Oh, yes, we did..." he stopped.

"Thats right!" Lara flung her arms round his neck.

"You're a dad, Von Croy!"