Incase you haven't realized it yet, this story does not have a set number of chapters to it like with the rest--It's taking a longer amount of words to get to a certain spot than I expected. Sorry in advance, and I personally think this chapter is a bit lighter compared to last one . . . I'm sorry again--can't say I didn't warn you.

Mu couldn't stand it.

Staring down at his plate of the quickly cooling food he'd made for himself, Mu didn't touch it. His fingers kept running through his hair as his mind ran over his 'conversation' with Murrue over and over and over again. He couldn't take how he'd acted. He was so stupid, letting his emotions get the better of him like that.

Mu wanted more than anything to stand up, walk downstairs, or wherever she was, and give her a kiss or a kind word or something—anything to say sorry. He didn't, though, and that was just another thing to add to his list of troubles.

He had just walked away. He couldn't believe it, how cold he was. People could say he "had a right to be angry, he trusted Murrue and she turned around and kept secrets from him"—But that wasn't true . . . She was right in her reasoning, and he knew it.

How could he, Mu, her husband, just walk away after getting news like that. If there was any time she needed him, it was then. She needed him the most . . . and he just walked away!

Mu squeezed his eyes shut at the painful thought.

"If you don't eat your food, it's gonna get cold and you're gonna get hungry, Daddy." Mu blinked, bringing his gaze up straight into a pair of russet eyes. Evi had stuck her small round face up into his.

"Evi?"

"You look just Mama, you know that, Daddy?" She slumped into the chair next to him, propping her head up on her elbows, just like him.

"I . . . what?"

"If I go like this," she cupped her hands and looked up at him through them. ". . . and squeeze my eyes like this . . . yep, you look just like her." He couldn't resist the smile coming to his lips.

"Why's that?"

"Your faces look the same. Mama'd stare at her food in the same way, too. You wouldn't know—you weren't here. I always tried to find what she was looking at but I could never find it in her food. You, I think you're looking at this crumb right here." She pointed to a spot on the table. There was nothing there.

"Crumb?"

"It's a small crumb," she assured him with a whisper. Mu's eyes softened, already getting the message she'd sent him before.

". . . Thanks, Evi . . ." It was quiet—neither moved. Finally, Evi took a small deep breath and tugged on Mu's shirt.

"Mama's in the nursery," she told him quietly, waiting.

"Okay."

Back in the nursery, the pale yellow walls did nothing to calm Murrue's fears. The tears fell silently—slowly—down her face as she curled herself up in the corner of the floor beside Evi's bed and stared blankly at the silent white cradle across the way. By the time they had stopped falling, Matthew was stirring, waking from sleep. Murrue did what any mother would do: push herself to her feet and numbly follow the actions her body had set out for her.

She leaned her arm over the side of the crib and gently stroked the baby's cheek. She couldn't hold back the smile when Matthew leaned into her fingers. And she couldn't hold back that one last tear.

A finger gently stroked her cheek. She couldn't hold back the smile as she leaned into the hand. Murrue tensed. Spinning around, she froze when her eyes locked onto his.

"What's with the tears?" He asked, with a slight laugh to his voice, as he still held out his wet hand to her face. He slowly retracted his touch.

"Mu . . ." She started, startling Mu as her hands gripped his arms. Somehow he had expected the same cold response he'd given her. But that wasn't possible. It was Murrue he was thinking about after all. "I wanted to tell you—I did—I was just so scared—" Mu could see the tears beginning to start and he shook his head.

"Shh, don't cry about that . . . I mean, I'm worse than you . . ." His mind sourly fell back to a moment he thought—no, wished—he'd forgotten. "I'm the one who should be crying," he spat beneath his breath. That fact . . . scared him.

It was the conversation he had with Murrue right before they were married. She'd made him tell her what was really on his mind. That he was scared because he didn't want to lose her too—she wasn't the only one afraid. Except, he never got to tell her. He couldn't form the words, it was too hard to tell her then. In the end, they were married even without him revealing that one fact. Mu still hadn't said it to her . . . and it had been four years . . .

How could he be angry when she held out on him for only two weeks? The differences in their courage sickened him.

Murrue's voice broke the silence that had let his mind run unchecked.

"Mu . . ." She whimpered. "What're we going to do?"

"We're going to make the best of it, Murrue." He muttered, instinctively moving closer. ". . . We always do."

"Mama! Daddy!" Her voice came crashing from the doorway, waking Matt with a start as the girl ran to her parents, grabbing them both around the legs.

"What?" Mu cocked his head as the girl clambered into her mother's arms. The girl laughed. He stared into her dancing russet eyes, understanding shooting through him almost guiltily. "Evi . . . Amazing . . ." He muttered.

Whether she meant it all along or not . . . she set him up.

Even with the cruel sense of foreboding shadowing both their hearts, they openly forgot what was hurting them, what, with both Evi and Matt there. The two of them needed to talk, but that could wait until the two little ones were asleep. Murrue glanced over at him with a wry smile.

"Smart and stubborn . . . hmm, now who does that remind me of . . . ?" Mu blinked.

"What are you looking at me for?"

---

It had been two months since Mu had found out, and things still weren't the same and they couldn't figure out why. They'd both 'forgiven' and 'forgotten' and yet, whenever they spoke or saw each other, there was an almost awkward wall that neither had figured out how to pass. To everybody, even Evi and Matt, the two seemed the same as ever, but to the two of them, that wall was still there.

When the time came for Mu to go in for work, it was only four days a week, but it still felt like eternity. And still, every time he came home, he brought a rose for Murrue—when Evi started complaining about Daddy being gone, he brought her daisies.

Little by little the wall was chipped away, but both Mu and Murrue knew, that even after it was gone, the foundation would always stand, unable to break.

One day, Murrue stood in the kitchen, cleaning lunch dishes as Mu's head ducked inside, the rest of his body hanging around the corner by the stairs.

"You were against getting a dog, right . . . ? So, how do you feel about a cat?" Murrue dropped the plate she was washing. "I'll take that as a yes," he rushed as his head quickly pulled from her view.

"Mu!" Her voice echoed throughout the house. Cringing, like a little boy being scolded for breaking a window or something, Mu slowly made his way into the kitchen and into the sights of the wide-eyed woman. "You didn't . . ." He didn't say anything and a heaving sigh escaped her. ". . . you did . . ."

"Awww, but Murrue," he whined. "If you were just there then—"

"No! You're such a child, Mu . . . You can't say no to puppy eyes, can you?"

"Correction," he grinned, "kitty eyes." He pulled up his hidden hands and pushed the ball of fluff into Murrue's face, forcing her to stare into a pair of startling yellow eyes. "Come on, I dare you to say no. Isn't she the most adorable thing . . . ?—I mean, animal . . . ?"

The kitten was adorable, she couldn't not agree to that. Its fluffy fur was all patches of chocolate, sand and reddish-brown with a few spots of white sprinkled over the tiny paws and pointed face. It opened its large mouth and out came a soft mew.

Murrue's strong-hold weakened.

"Well," she sighed, "cats are supposed to be great for younger kids . . ." Mu's face lit up as he brought the kitten back into his arms, unable to hold back his happy laughter. Her eyebrows arched in suspicion. "Something tells me that cat's more for you than it is for Evi . . ."

"What? Evi didn't ask . . . Evi's across the street today, remember?" Mu's grin widened as Murrue's mouth dropped open. "You know," he started slyly, "cats are nature's best stress-reducers too . . ." The kitten jumped from his arms just as Murrue burst.

"Mu LaFlaga, you take that back!"

"Make me," he grinned, hands wrapping around her waist. She pushed away, laughing as Mu pulled her closer, not letting her go. They 'struggled' for a few moments, both laughing, until Mu's stiff leg caught the tiny step he always forgot was there and went crashing backwards, Murrue in tow. When 'the dust settled' Mu was lying on his back, Murrue on top of him.

When she realized it, Murrue pushed herself up.

"Oh, God, are you okay?"

". . . no," Mu muttered, pain shooting numbly down his leg. ". . . but I will be . . ." His eye cracked open and not soon enough he'd pushed Murrue back down on top of him. "Yep, fine now."

He grinned as Murrue kissed him before rolling off of her catcher. Mu stayed on the floor for a few seconds more smiling.

The wall was weakening.

---

Matthew struggled to reach out for the kitten.

After three weeks, it still had retained the name 'Kitty' because that's all Evi seemed to call it—that and none of them could find a name that would work for the tenacious feline.

Matt leaned forward again. It walked just beyond his reach. Evi grinned from her chair as she ate her dinner as the kitten walked towards her. Matt wouldn't give up, though. In his determination, drool dripped from the corner of his mouth. With a grimace, Mu worked to wipe it away. Murrue came up from behind him.

"Children are so adorable, aren't they?" She asked cutely, smiling, amber eyes flashing. Mu arched one of his eyebrows at her, wiping his hand off.

"Yeah, we're all cute until we learn to talk."

"Mu . . ."

"It's the truth!" He shrugged defensively. "Evi was cute, you were cute . . . I was cute . . ." He flashed his signature roguish grin and spun to face his son, staring blankly back at him. Mu wagged his finger in front of Matthew's face. "You, stay cute and silent for as long as you can, you hear me? That's an order."

Murrue tried hold in her laugh. Mu smiled at her struggle—until she swayed on her feet. He straightened himself up and walked towards her.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just tired," Murrue murmured as she leaned into his embrace. Mu instinctively raised his hand, petting down her auburn hair but then pulled away when he realized what he was doing.

"Have you taken your pills today?" Mu asked caringly as she slowly shook her head in his shoulder. "Oh, well that's why," he replied softly, reaching behind him to the tiny container on the counter.

When Murrue came to, the unique smell of their bedroom came first to her senses. As her eyes opened, they met the pale sheets. Slowly she took in what was around her. She could see Matthew curled up in the crib still standing in their room; she could see the closet door open ajar—Evi was in there, she loved 'hiding' in between the hanging clothing; she could even feel the cat curled up between her legs . . . Except she couldn't see or feel him.

With a cock of her head, Murrue pushed herself to roll over in the large bed, Mu's face right there. He'd fallen asleep leaning on the bed from his spot on the floor. Somehow guilty of how she had expected it, Murrue leaned over and brushed her lips against his. Without realizing it in his sleep, Mu shifted his head for further access to his smile. She kissed him again, not able to resist.

"Mu . . . Thank you . . . again."