Bickslow rubbed at his eyes as he headed towards his office. If he didn't have to be at work, he wouldn't be. But of course, Laxus was making him come into work. In fact, he'd woken up to a message from the man himself, reminding him that he had to come into work.

They'd had less than two hours of sleep and Bickslow really wasn't in the mood to do the whole corporate-drone thing. It was precisely why he'd forgone the annoying tie and the uncomfortable shoes, opting instead for his way too comfortable bright red Converse. He didn't even have his shirt tucked in, and honestly, his unusual choice of attire was probably why everyone had been looking at him weirdly as he walked past. Well, that, and he was late for work.

And then there was the whole Veronica and the affair issue that was no doubt still going around the office.

So as he pushed the door to his office open, he ran his hand through his hair that he couldn't be particularly bothered with for once, and he ducked his head, looking towards the ground as he crossed the room to his desk.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Theroux."

Bickslow looked up suddenly at the voice to see a young man with short dark hair, similar to Laxus' and with dark rectangular glasses. His hand was outstretched, obviously waiting to shake Bickslow's hand.

"Uh… Hi…" Bickslow mumbled, hesitantly grasping the other man's hand to shake it lightly before he moved around to the other side of his desk to take a seat in his leather chair, shrugging his jacket off and letting it drape over the back. "Who are you exactly?"

The man chuckled nervously as he sat down in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk and reached into a messenger bag, pulling out a sheet of paper and sliding it towards Bickslow. "Oh, I apologise," he said, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a smile. "I'm James. James Lawton. Your human resources block called me on Friday afternoon to ask if I'd be able to come in for an interview first thing this morning."

Oh… Right…

Bickslow had gotten a memo before he'd left on Friday that he'd have to interview people on Monday, but he never knew when during the day. Hell, he actually felt kinda bad for being late. Sure, he was only half an hour late, but still, Bickslow had no idea how long the guy had been waiting for him.

So as he looked down at the resume, he rolled the sleeves of his dark grey shirt up to his elbows. Bickslow didn't really understand any of what was on the resume. He didn't really know what he was supposed to be looking for in a new secretary, either, so what good would reading a resume do anyway?

Sitting back in his chair and folding his arms, Bickslow looked up to the apparent college graduate sitting opposite him, awaiting his response anxiously, it seemed. "Tell me why I should hire you?" Bickslow asked.

James sat up straighter, folding his hands in his lap as he looked directly at Bickslow. There was an air of confidence around him, and honestly, Bickslow liked it, even though he knew nothing about the guy. "Well, I've worked as a receptionist and a personal assistant before, so I'm aware of the responsibilities for this job and I'm confident I can do all of them at a high standard," he said, never averting his gaze or losing his small smile. "I actually used to work for my father as his assistant, so I'm familiar with the task load since it was a similar size company and—"

"Why'd you leave that job?" Bickslow interrupted. So far, James seemed like he'd be pretty good at his job, but why would he leave? Especially when his father was his boss.

"Forgive me for being so blunt, and please excuse my language," he said, lowering his head slightly to look towards his lap. "But my father is an asshole and a terrible person to work for."

Bickslow suddenly burst out laughing as he rocked back on his chair. He didn't know why he found it so funny; perhaps it was from the lack of sleep. But something about it was hilarious. Bickslow really liked the kid. That was for sure.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he chuckled, finally sitting forward again. "I shouldn't have laughed. Sorry."

"It's alright." James said, the corner of his mouth pulling into a slight smirk as he pushed his glasses back up his nose.

As Bickslow regained his composure, he leant forward on his desk slightly, his arms folded just in front of the closed laptop. "Alright, so, you're obviously qualified for the job," Well, Bickslow hoped he was. But from what he'd heard so far, he seemed like it. "And you have experience…"

"If you'd liked to see some reference letters, I have them here in my bag—"

"No need," Bickslow said, raising a hand to cut him off. "Honestly, kid, I don't have the energy to sit through countless interviews, and you seem pretty interesting and I'm assuming you want the job."

James nodded vigorously. "Very much so, Mr. Theroux."

Bickslow inwardly groaned at the use of his last name. He'd always hated people using his last name, and it was part of the reason most people didn't know it. That, and Veronica had kind of ruined it for him, as weird as it was. So sitting back slightly and opening up his laptop to turn it on, he stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. "Right," he mumbled. "Well, any chance you can start today?"

James' face lit up suddenly. "O-Oh, right away, if you'd like!"

"Good." Bickslow reached into the pocket of his pants to pull out his phone to place it on his desk in the corner. He looked back up to James. "Firstly, I need you to go get me the biggest cup of coffee you can possibly find. There's a café on the second floor of the building, or you can go to the one that's a few buildings down. I don't care which, I just need coffee." Hell, he needed a lot of it.

"Of course, Mr. Theroux!" James beamed as he suddenly stood up to reach his hand across the desk again for another handshake, except in his excitement from getting hired so quickly, he knocked the photo frame that sat on the edge of the desk to the ground. "Oh, I apologise, sir," he said quietly, his face quickly becoming a shade of red as he reached down to pick up the small frame. "Oh my god."

Bickslow looked up again to see James staring down at the photo in his hands as he slowly rose to his full height again. "What is it?" Bickslow asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. He didn't know why the photo warranted such a reaction.

James quickly placed the frame back on the desk. "Oh, I'm sorry… I just… I don't mean to pry or anything…" he mumbled, looking around before he turned to pick up his messenger back from beside the chair he'd been sitting on.

"Just spit it out already."

"I just…" James sighed before he looked up, finally meeting Bickslow's questioning gaze. "Is that Lucy Heartfilia? In the photo?" he asked quickly.

Bickslow blinked a few times, sitting back again. "Huh?" Why does he want to know if it's Lucy…?

"I'm sorry, she just looks a lot—"

"It's her," Bickslow cut in suddenly. "But why did you want to know?"

James' face lit up again with a wide grin. "I've been a huge fan of her work for years," he said quickly. "Her short stories in the Magnolia Times were amazing, and her book. Oh god, it's a great book. Have you read it? I'm sure you have, I mean, you seem to have a family—"

"Alright, kid. Calm down." Bickslow chuckled as he leant forward again, briefly looking down towards the computer to put in his password before looking back up to see James fidget awkwardly where he stood. "Coffee?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh! Yes! Right, sorry!"

And as James suddenly rushed for the door, now aware what his first task of his new job was, Bickslow shook his head. "Cappuccino, please," he called before James could get out of his office. As soon as the door had been left to close gently on its own, Bickslow glanced up to the photo frame on the corner of his desk.

It was a nice photo, honestly.

But he hated it. Because it had the other Bickslow in it and he really hated seeing the other Bickslow, even though they were just photos.

Reaching into the top drawer of his desk, he pulled out a pad of sticky notes and ripped one off and stuck it over his face in the photo. At least that way he didn't have to look at his own stupid face anymore. Instead, he'd just see Ingrid and Lucy.

And that, he was totally fine with.

So with a slight smile since he was somewhat proud of himself for not letting himself get angry from just the thought of the other Bickslow (though, he figured it probably had something to do with the fact he was too exhausted to really do anything, so that included get too irritated), he leant back in his chair again and stared at his computer screen, watching as his inbox filled up with emails, just from the weekend and the morning alone.

It was only when he saw a certain email from the H.R. block with the list of people he was supposed to be interviewing and when he was supposed to be doing so did he stop smiling. He'd hired the first guy on the list, which meant he had to get the rest of the interviews cancelled and let them know he'd already chosen his new secretary. So with a sigh, he reached for the phone on one side of his desk just so he could get the entire thing sorted out as quickly as possible.

Hell, the day was going to be long enough as it was; he didn't need to tell countless people that they should just go straight home as soon as they'd even walked into his office.

He didn't have the energy to do that.

"Bickslow?"

He blinked slowly as he idly swung the chair left and right. His head was resting in his palm with his elbow on the chair and he was struggling to keep his eyes open. He'd just started with his third coffee and it was just past 10 a.m. It probably didn't help that he was in a meeting, and even when he wasn't tired he was fighting to stay awake.

"Bickslow…?" the voice said again, and Bickslow could only blink. He hadn't been listening to a thing anyone had been saying, and for the most part, he survived meetings just by sitting near Freed with his mouth shut. It was easier to just not say anything than risk saying something stupid, and it was the only time Bickslow would ever have that mentality. But suddenly there was a flick to the side of his head and his eyes widened in response before he shook his head lightly and rubbed his hand across his face.

"Hm? Sorry… Didn't really get any sleep," Bickslow mumbled, pushing himself up with his hands on the armrests of the plush leather chair to sit up straight. "What was it you were asking?" he asked, looking over the rest of the members around the conference table.

A man with thin grey hair just across from him sighed as he tapped his pen irately on the table. "I was asking if you managed to finish writing up that new draft," he said. Bickslow could only stare blankly back at the man, and after a long moment of silence where Bickslow had no idea what the guy was talking about, and then when the businessman was getting impatient, he said slowly, as if to make sure Bickslow would understand the words, "On the proposed gala next month…?"

"Oh!" Bickslow said suddenly. I remember that one! Then, as he slouched in his chair again and brought a pen to his mouth to chew on the end, with a smirk he mumbled, "Yeah, no. It's not finished." He didn't even know why he was writing it in the first place, to be honest. From what he could tell, Bickslow's main job was to tell Laxus what was legal and what wasn't, just so they didn't break any laws and get major fines… Or piss off the chairman, who just happened to be Makarov. But, there were a few odd things Bickslow had come across that didn't really fit into his apparent job description, and writing up an outline on what the upcoming gala was for was one of those oddball jobs.

Bickslow could only be thankful that the thing was mostly finished in the first place, or so he assumed. Well, that's what Freed said when Bickslow had asked him about it the week before.

The man with the grey hair sighed and turned a page in his binder, shaking his head as he looked down. Bickslow didn't really care about that. He didn't mind that his apparent co-workers were seeing him as an incompetent fool as of late, because it was the truth. He'd been thrown into a job that he knew nothing about and it wasn't something he was going to pick up in a day. Sure, once he got into the swing of things, some things were easier to do, just like with the whole driving thing; they'd technically done it before and they were essentially just relearning things. His job was similar, because it almost felt like his brain knew what to do. Not that he could really explain that, of course. He just went with it, for the most part.

He did, however, care about what he heard muttered down the far end of the table.

"Maybe he should spend more time sleeping instead of cheating on his wife. He'd probably get his work done then."

Bickslow didn't even know if it was even called muttering, not when it was said loud enough for him to hear it – on purpose, at that. He was so over the entire situation and in his sleep-deprived state, he was not in the mood to put up with it.

Looking towards the asshole who decided to say what he was thinking, Bickslow nodded his head. "Oi, what's your name again?" Bickslow asked almost politely.

The man looked towards Bickslow, his eyes going wide as he slowly looked around the conference table to see if anyone was going to be getting him out of the predicament he was now in. No one was willing to help him, of course, and they all just shrugged or shook their heads. Evergreen was smirking, much like Freed and Laxus were, just because they knew Bickslow wasn't in the mood to put up with it. Erza, Natsu, and Gray (when they looked up and stopped playing on their phones for once) were just watching with interest.

"It's Harry, you know—"

"Right, Harry," Bickslow interrupted, swinging back on his chair again as he idly twisted the pen between his teeth. "Maybe you should mind your own goddamn business instead of gossiping about my personal life? I mean, I don't see how any of it has anything to do with you, unless I'm fucking you, of course, which I'm not," he said harshly. Bickslow didn't think he was also sleeping with him. His secretary he could kind of understand (sort of), but not a guy in his fifties. Even Bickslow had his limits, in any world.

Right?

Before anyone could respond – Harry included, with his face red in his obvious anger towards Bickslow, probably for being rude – Laxus cleared his throat loudly. "Right, can we get back to the meeting now?"

Mumbled affirmatives were heard around the table while Bickslow kept his eyes on Harry. He continued to smirk as he twisted the pen between his teeth, only because he knew the man now had an extreme dislike for him.

So as Bickslow tuned out again and began to idly swivel in his chair, everyone else in the meeting went back to doing what they were originally doing. Freed actually paid attention and listened to each annoying middle-aged man or woman prattle on about some policy or something-or-other, Erza pretended to know what was going on (and for the most part, she did, like Freed), Evergreen nodded every now and then and answered questions that were directed towards her as best she could, and Laxus scowled at Natsu and Gray as they argued quietly between themselves whenever they got asked something, too.

It was just another boring meeting for Bickslow, and he was glad that he only had to sit down with everyone on Monday and Friday. The rest of the week he was relatively free, only meeting with Laxus and Erza once a day like Natsu and Gray had to do. They usually just talked about what they were doing in their lives to keep up appearances rather than do their actual jobs.

But suddenly, when Bickslow was sure he was going to fall asleep, there was a knock on the door to the conference room and everyone turned to look towards the young man with the rectangular glasses who was pushing the glass door open.

"Mr. The—" James said quietly, only to stop himself to then correct himself. "Sorry, Bickslow," he said, shaking his head as he stood holding the door open. Bickslow had made James call him by his first name, because if he heard Mr. Theroux one more time, he was probably going to go insane. In two weeks alone, he'd heard his last name more than he had in a year. He hated it.

"What?" Bickslow asked, lifting his head from his hand to look at his new secretary with an eyebrow raised. He was sure the guy had been in the middle of training (not that he needed that much of it), so he had no idea why he was now interrupting the meeting… not that he was complaining, of course.

James looked down slightly, averting his gaze from everyone who was staring back at him. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but… I… I don't think I should—"

"Just spit it out already."

"Mr. Theroux," James said firmly, resorting to the formal title. "I do not believe you would appreciate the message I have to give you being said for all to hear."

Bickslow sighed as he pushed the chair back from the table and pushed himself to his feet and sluggishly walked over to the door. His arms were folded across his chest as he looked at James. "What do you have to tell me?" he asked, his voice laced with boredom.

Another furtive glance towards the table from James before he looked back up to Bickslow, and with a slight frown, he said as quietly and clearly as possible, "The hospital just called. They said your wife was brought in by someone called Mirajane."

"What? Why?" Bickslow demanded. He was beginning to panic and he was suddenly feeling very awake all of a sudden.

"I-I don't know… they wouldn't tell me anything else…"

"Is she still there?" Bickslow asked as he pulled the glass door open further, and when James nodded, he all but sprinted out of the door and towards the lift on that floor that was going to take its sweet-ass time to open. He needed to go to his office to get his keys and wallet… and his phone, which by that point was probably flat, and his jacket. But damn, why was his office suddenly feeling so far away? It was only two floors down, but still, it was an almost unnecessary detour because he really needed to get to Lucy.

He really needed to get to Lucy so he could find out what the hell had happened to cause Mira to take her there in the first place. Bickslow was incredibly worried about Lucy, and hell, he found himself worried about the baby and actually caring about it.

Lucy sighed as she threw her head back into the pillow, closing her eyes for just a moment. She was tired – incredibly tired, actually – but there was no way she could sleep. Not in a hospital, anyway. She was too uncomfortable lying there and waiting for her doctors to come back just to tell her that there was no reason for her to be lying in a hospital bed anyway.

She shouldn't have been here, but of course, Mira had freaked out and practically dragged her there. So she'd fainted briefly, so what? It wasn't that big of a deal. The only reason Mira had made that big of a deal was because she was pregnant and she wanted to make sure that both Lucy and the baby were fine. Lucy was positive that Mira had made a big fuss over nothing.

The only thing Lucy could be thankful for in that moment was that Bickslow wasn't there and that he didn't know what was going on. Mira had tried calling him, but of course, he hadn't answered any of the near seven-thousand times she'd called his phone. He was probably busy. Or asleep. Or his phone was dead.

It didn't matter. Lucy didn't want to make Bickslow worry more than he already was about her. He didn't need that on his plate as it was.

But damn it, her doctors had decided to run every test imaginable that could determine why Lucy had fainted, and really, it was only because Mira was making a massive scene and fretting, and apparently a few of the younger doctors had a thing for the ex-model. The guys were more or less just trying to impress her, which was weird. It was really just a bunch of blood tests for various things though.

Another sigh escaped Lucy's lips as she turned her head on the pillow behind her head, shifting her hips slightly to try and make herself more comfortable on the not-so-comfortable hospital bed that had her sitting slightly upright. She looked to Mira who was sitting on the chair by the side of her bed, Ingrid was sitting in her lap and she was playing with one of her many toys, squealing and babbling away.

"Mira, really," Lucy said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips as she watched her daughter play happily. "This is ridiculous. I'm telling you, I'm fine."

The eldest Strauss frowned as she looked up to Lucy. "Even if you are fine, it's still good to check just in case something is wrong, with you or the baby," she said.

"Nothing is wrong, I swear it," Lucy insisted. Then, quietly and slowly, she said, "Which brings me to something else… How do you know that I'm actually… You know, pregnant?"

"We, uh… We kind of coerced Bickslow into telling us when he picked Ingrid up on Friday…" she mumbled, giggling nervously as she looked down to Ingrid briefly. "He didn't really have a choice in telling us, actually."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Of course you guys did…"

It wasn't like Lucy was mad at Bickslow for confirming it, because she could actually see Mira and Levy ganging up on him to get the information out of him. Hell, Gajeel probably would have helped. But on the other hand, she wasn't exactly glad he'd told them, just because she didn't know what she was going to do about it. It wasn't going to be a decision she would take lightly.

Hell, none of the decisions regarding the baby she was carrying would be taken lightly.

So with another sigh, she reached for the large cup filled with water on the tray that was sitting just in front of her, and she brought the straw to her lips to take a long drink from it. Lucy knew exactly why she'd fainted, and it was from a mix of both complete exhaustion and dehydration. She'd barely had two hours of sleep before she was up with Bickslow and going about their usual morning routines. For Lucy, that meant spending a fair majority of it hunched over the toilet. Today was by far the worst she'd felt, and she could only be glad that Mira had come to visit just after Bickslow had left for work, and was helping her with Ingrid.

But it was kind of her own fault she was sitting in hospital anyway. Lucy had pushed herself too hard when she knew she shouldn't have, but, if she focused on something else, she could get through the day a lot easier. So she'd pushed herself to be busy; she'd tried to ignore the fact she'd felt like she was going to fall asleep any minute and that the nausea had been worse been usual. She'd had things to do and a baby to look after. She hadn't had time to worry about herself.

She'd barely been able to keep anything down without wanting to throw it back up, so for the most part, she just hadn't eaten that morning. Most days she'd found she was okay, but that day… That day had just been so much worse. She could barely even keep water down, and it was part of the reason she'd felt so dehydrated. Her body was expelling more than she could replace, and she reasoned it was definitely a big part of the reason she'd fainted.

But she'd kept ignoring it. She'd kept ignoring the headache that had been getting progressively worse throughout the morning and she'd ignored how heavy her lids were getting. And, as best she could, she'd tried to ignore how dizzy she'd been getting.

Until she actually fainted, of course.

And Lucy still thought she was fine. It was nothing to make a big deal over. She'd just made a few mistakes over the course of the morning and she'd stopped caring about what her body needed, because she still thought she didn't have time to worry about herself.

Because if she worried about herself, then she'd remember just how confusing and bad things were for her at the moment.

The traffic in Magnolia was an absolute bitch, no matter what the time of day was. As soon as the taxi had pulled up to the hospital entrance, Bickslow quickly mumbled his thanks and paid the fare, then pushed the door open and ran for the doors to the emergency room; the same doors he'd walked out of only six hours earlier.

As soon as a nurse had led him to the room where Lucy apparently was, he'd burst into the room. Bickslow breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he saw Lucy sitting on the bed, looking more stunned than anything, and he quickly crossed the room and pulled her into a hug with his arms tightly wrapped around her.

He could feel his heart slowly return to a more reasonable pace, just from seeing that she looked okay. He was still worried about why she was there at all, but if she looked fine, then that was a good sign.

It had to be. Right?

"Shit, Lucy," he breathed. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Lucy sighed as she sat back on the bed with Bickslow finally let go of her. "What are you even doing here?"

"The hospital called me at work," Bickslow said with a shrug as he straightened up and looked towards Mira and Ingrid who was stretching her little arms above her head and her legs out, apparently having woken up when Bickslow burst into the room. Mira had a certain shine to her eyes, one that Bickslow had seen all too many times before and he knew exactly what she was thinking. But, he couldn't deal with that right now. Mira could start shipping himself and Lucy together for all he cared. It didn't matter, because he was only worried about Lucy in the current moment and not about whether or not they'd make a cute couple or cute babies (because, they'd already established they made cute babies, because Ingrid was the perfect example of that). So turning back to Lucy as she stared back at him with pursed lips, Bickslow asked again, "What happened though?"

Lucy reached for the cup of water again and shrugged. She should have guessed the hospital would call Bickslow at work. Hell, they were technically married; the guy was probably on all of her emergency contact information. Not that it was an emergency, of course. It was nowhere near being an emergency.

"It doesn't matter what happened. I'm fine," Lucy insisted.

"She fainted," the eldest Strauss said suddenly.

"Mira!"

Bickslow looked between the two, his brow furrowing in concern before he focused on Lucy once again. "You fainted?" he asked quietly. Bickslow could feel himself begin to panic again. What if Lucy hit her head when she fainted? What if something was actually wrong? What if Lucy was sick?

What if something happened to the baby?

Shit. Why am I so worried about the baby all of a sudden? We don't even know if…

Bickslow had to rub his hands over his face with a heavy sigh just to force himself to clear his thoughts. He couldn't let the last train of thought go on, because a part of him was scared about what the outcome of a particular decision would be; one that would decide whether he was going to have two kids or one. He felt like it was a conversation they needed to have, but for whatever reason, Bickslow felt like he had to leave the decision solely up to Lucy. Her life wasn't fair as it was, and he'd feel even more guilty if he said he wanted to keep the baby.

But that was the problem: the outcome. He really did want to keep the baby and he really didn't know why. He loved Ingrid a hell of a lot, and he felt as if he was already growing attached to the unborn baby she was apparently carrying. Bickslow didn't understand any of it, and that scared him just as much as the thought of what would happen if Lucy decided she wouldn't or couldn't actually keep the baby.

Bickslow didn't know what Lucy wanted to do, because she'd barely talked to him about it in the three days they'd known. But in just three – nearly four – days, a lot had changed, and it was scary how much things had. It terrified him. It was because Bickslow didn't know what Lucy wanted to do that he felt like he should leave the decision up to Lucy. He didn't want her to get stuck with something else that she didn't want to deal with. Even though it should be a decision a couple makes together, they weren't a couple, and that was the entire point. He felt like he didn't get a say in it, and he was strangely okay with that.

Even if Lucy decided she didn't want to keep the baby, Bickslow would still be there for her. He'd be there for her and try and help her get through anything and everything, if she let him, of course, and he always would.

As long as they were in that world and they had something keeping them connected, he would try and help her.

It was because he cared about her that he'd do that. In the last three days alone, everything had changed, and that included how he felt about Lucy. Drastically. It was how he'd felt after the shocking news of the affair that had made him realise his own feelings, and whether or not they'd always been there and he'd just never noticed them or linked them to anything romantic would always be a mystery. The point was that he cared about Lucy in that moment a lot, and as long as he cared and had feelings for her, he was going to be worried.

It was because he was worried about Lucy that he was worried about the baby.

Lucy rolled her eyes again and huffed in annoyance. "Yes, I fainted," she said irately. "It's no big deal. It's probably just because I was tired and I was trying to focus on something else and I was dehydrated because of the goddamn morning sickness that won't leave me the hell alone." She paused to take another sip of the drink. Then, with her eyes narrowed, she finished with, "I'm only here because Mira threw a fit and all of the goddamn doctors are working overtime on pointless tests just to impress her."

Mira looked at her with wide eyes, and Bickslow spread his fingers over his eyes to peek through them as his brows knit together in confusion. They knew Lucy was annoyed by being in the hospital over nothing, (hell, it had taken Bickslow all of thirty seconds to realise that), but… that was something else. She'd almost… snapped. Like all of that frustration she'd had building up over the last few days had just been released then and had been channelled into her hatred of being in the hospital.

And her hatred for morning sickness, apparently.

But when Lucy's face went bright red with the realisation of what she'd just let out of her mouth, she ducked her head and laced her hands together in front of her stomach, twisting her fingers together. She hadn't really meant to say all of that, but… once she'd started, she couldn't stop herself. Lucy had to admit that it felt good to actually get it out though; she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders somehow, and even if it was just a tiny bit, she felt less stressed than she had been over the last few days.

It actually felt nice.

The room remained in silence for another few moments as both Mira and Bickslow tried to figure out just what had happened. But then that silence was broken when Ingrid let out a short high pitched giggle. When Bickslow looked down to see her sitting up slightly on Mira's lap and he dropped his own hands, he slowly and quietly began to chuckle. Bickslow didn't know why his daughter had laughed, but hell, it was funny. He had to admit that Lucy's outburst had been a little entertaining too, but he didn't think that's why Ingrid was laughing.

Unless it actually was, in which case, it was even more amusing.

But soon, Mira was left gawking at Bickslow as he leant forward with one hand on the foot of the bed and the other on his knee, laughing vivaciously, and at Lucy who was giggling just as uncontrollably. Hell, even Ingrid was positively squealing with delight, and Mira could only shake her head. Her parents had completely lost the plot and the kid was just as insane already. She probably got Bickslow's sense of humour, Mira thought.

"Oh god, I'm sorry, Mira," Lucy choked out, her fingers brushing under her eyes as she tried her best to stop laughing. She wasn't doing very well though, not with Bickslow who had completely lost it. "I didn't mean to snap," she said once she'd taken a few deep breaths in between the short bursts of laughter.

"It's okay," Mira sighed as she snuck a glance at her watch on her wrist. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lucy. Blake finishes soon and I need to be at home before he gets dropped off," she said.

Bickslow suddenly had enough self control to straighten up and reach out to take Ingrid from Mira when she stood from her chair. He lifted her up into the air as he backed up into the side of the bed and sat down near the end. His laughter had almost instantly died down, and as he sat Ingrid down on his lap and Mira finished gathering up her things, he turned to the eldest Strauss and asked, "Can you do me a favour?"

"Of course," Mira replied with a smile.

"Can you call Laxus and tell him I'm not going back—"

"Bicks, you don't have to stay. I told you I'm fine," Lucy interrupted with another small frown.

"Try and stop me from staying, Lucy," he said firmly. Then, his focus shifting back to Mira, he continued, "Just tell him I'll be in tomorrow, please." Laxus was probably going to get mad at him again, but really, he didn't care. He had more important things to worry about than an unsympathetic sparkplug.

Bickslow lifted his head from where he had it resting his open palm with his elbow on the armrest of the chair. Ingrid had fallen asleep in his lap, and even though he'd had way too much coffee in such a short period of time, Bickslow was still exhausted. The caffeine was refusing to kick in.

Lucy was beginning to get antsy, just because she wanted to go home. The longer she had to stay, the more she believed that she wasn't fine and there was actually something wrong; that it wasn't just exhaustion and dehydration that had caused her to lose consciousness, even if it really only had been very briefly.

The longer she stayed there, the more she began to worry about the baby she was carrying. And even though it had only been three days since she'd found out she was pregnant, with each minute that passed, she found herself caring more and more about it.

And that scared her, because she still didn't know what she wanted to do. She still needed to have that conversation with Bickslow, because no matter what happened or what the decision was regarding the baby, it was something they'd have to decide together.

Just like they had to look after Ingrid together.

But she'd only been in the hospital for a few hours. She didn't know how much longer she was going to be in there for, since the damn tests seemed to be taking forever.

"You feeling any better?"

Lucy turned at the soft voice to see Bickslow looking at her. She could see the concern in his eyes; the concern for her. As much as she enjoyed Bickslow's company – something she'd come to love more and more from just the last three days alone – she hated that he was worried about her. In the last three days, all he'd done is worry and care for her.

But even though she hated that Bickslow was worrying about her, there was a small part of her that… liked it, almost. It felt nice to know that someone outside of her team and best friends cared about her enough to be worried about her. Je cared enough about her to look after her when she needed it, and just to make sure himself that she was okay.

Lucy was beginning to see that she meant more to Bickslow than she'd originally thought, and whether or not he'd admit just how much he cared about her, it still felt nice to know that he was willing to do things like that.

The weird part was that Lucy actually wanted him to care about her, too. He made her feel safe and secure and he made her feel like everything would be fine. He made her laugh when she needed to, and he made her happy. He made her happy when she was sure the universe was out to get her and Lucy loved that Bickslow was able to do that.

The only problem was that everything had changed so much in those three days and she didn't know if what she was feeling was real or not. She didn't know if her feelings for Bickslow for real or not, and that scared her. More than anything, she wanted to believe they were real, that they were there and actually her own, because she didn't want to lose any of what he could offer her. Lucy didn't want to lose that safe feeling that she got from being around him. She didn't want to lose that hope, and most of all, she didn't want to lose the happiness that she had been so set on never seeing again. She didn't want to lose any of it, and she didn't want to screw it up by letting her feelings and emotions get in the way.

She didn't want to lose Bickslow.

But was it selfish to want Bickslow? Was it greedy to want him all to herself?

Lucy truly didn't know whether it was or not. But for the time being, she would leave it. She would leave it and see where her emotions ended up taking her anyway. If she still felt something for Bickslow when she was ready to come back to it, then she'd deal with it then. Because right now, she had more important things to take care of.

So with a small smile and a slight nod, she said quietly, "A little better. I still have a headache, but they gave me something to help with the nausea just before you got here, so it's bearable."

"That's good," he said with a smile.

And so the room fell into silence again. Bickslow struggled to keep his eyes opened as he watched Ingrid smile softly in her sleep every now and then, and Lucy attempted to keep herself from panicking the longer she sat there in that bed.

Thankfully, though, the door finally opened, and when Claire's husband, Mark, walked in, a manila folder in his hands and a stethoscope around his neck, both Bickslow and Lucy had masks of confusion on their faces. They knew Mark worked at the hospital – they presumed a doctor – but neither expected him to walk in then.

"Ah, hello, Lucy," Mark said with a large smile before nodding to Bickslow. "Afternoon, Bickslow. And Ingrid, too."

"Hey…" Bickslow mumbled.

Mark turned back to Lucy who was still slightly confused, but when she saw her name on the front of the folder in his hands, she could feel her heart rate pick up. She was nervous, even though she believed that she was fine. Nothing was wrong. So, looking up from the file as he lifted a page, he said with a wink, "Sorry, I temporarily took over your case." Then, lifting up another page and glancing down to it with a nod, he said cheerily, "Well, firstly, I believe a congratulations is in order, and secondly, looks like all of your bloodwork came back. Nothing looks to be too worrying, so I'd say it was just a bit of dehydration and exhaustion as the cause of your fainting spell."

Lucy sighed in relief. She felt like another weight had been lifted from her shoulders just to know that she was okay, and that there was nothing wrong. She'd been right. "So if that's all, does that mean I can go home now?" she asked quietly.

"Not yet, I'm afraid," Mark said, closing the folder and tucking it under his arm.

Oh… Never mind. Lucy was back to beginning to panic. He just said she was fine, so why couldn't she leave? Unless something was actually wrong…

"Your admittance papers say you don't know how far along you are with the pregnancy, so I've arranged for a scan just after I'm done in here, so that should at least help clear that up for you two," he said. When Lucy nodded and she looked down to her hands in her lap, Mark continued, "And since you're not sure of that, I'm going to assume you haven't had a prenatal appointment yet?"

"Not yet…"

"As expected, which is why…" Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a card and handed it to Lucy. "I went to the liberty of making one for you with Dr. Delia. She's moved offices since you last saw her before Ingrid was born, so the new address is on the back of the card."

Lucy smiled weakly as she turned the card over in her hands. That's one of the things she'd been worried about – the appointments she knew she needed to make and go to. She'd even been putting off going to the hospital just so she could put off hearing what she'd already found out, but now that they'd taken her blood and confirmed it anyway, Lucy felt as if it was all becoming real. Not that it hadn't been real for the last three days, it was just that she'd been trying to get her head around it and think about what she was going to do.

"Also, since I heard from a nurse that you two were here with friends of yours until early this morning, I called Claire when I took over your case and asked her to watch Ingrid for the rest of the afternoon once you two leave, if that's fine with the two of you, of course," he said with another brilliant grin. When Lucy went to protest it, to say it was unnecessary, his hand went up and he said calmly, "I know I was over-stepping, but you two desperately need to get some rest. Especially you, Lucy."

"Alright…" she mumbled, still not able to look up to face Mark. "Thank you for doing all of this, though. You really don't need to do more than you're required to…"

"It's no problem at all, Lucy. You know Claire and I are always willing to look after Ingrid," he said. He began to walk backwards towards the door, and after another nod to Bickslow, he turned back to Lucy with his hand on the door handle, and said, "Right, that's all I had to say. After this you'll be free to go home, I promise."

And before Lucy could even look up with the smallest of smiles, he was gone, and instead another doctor with a bright smile was wheeling in a machine with a monitor on the top of it.

So Lucy followed the doctor's instructions, answered the few questions that she was asked as best she could, and listened to everything else the woman had to say as she got everything ready for the ultrasound she knew she was getting.

Bickslow had moved the chair forward so he was sitting by the very edge of the bed. He'd moved Ingrid to cradle her in his arms, waking her from her nap as gently as he could, as he leant forward so he could see what was going on.

As Lucy laid back on the modified bed arrangement with a towel draped over her legs (when they'd said ultrasound, she hadn't expected it to be the uncomfortable one), she turned her head to the side to stare at the screen, even though there was nothing on it yet. But there would be. Soon. Very soon.

And she was nervous. So very nervous.

But Bickslow was right there next to her and he was keeping her grounded. Even though she wasn't looking at him, just his presence in the room was keeping her from losing her mind, and his presence alone was enough.

Slowly, the picture on the screen changed as the doctor slowly and gently moved the probe around to get a better angle. "Now, if we can't find a heartbeat, there's no reason to worry. Sometimes it's just too early to pick it up," the doctor said with a reassuring smile as she glanced to Lucy before returning her focus to the screen, adjusting as necessary.

Lucy's own heart was beating a million miles an hour by that point. She wasn't worried about the baby's heartbeat (or lack thereof), because she was almost certain her own was going to explode it was working that damn hard.

But she was okay. Everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to be fine, because Bickslow promised that everything was going to be fine.

"But it looks like you two are in luck, because there's your baby right there," she said, pointing to the small black shape on the monitor. "And it looks like we were able to find a heartbeat today, so I'd say you're around six weeks, judging by that and the size. You'll get a more accurate reading at your next scan though, and they'll be able to calculate your due date."

She'd honestly stopped listening to the ultrasound technician as soon she'd mentioned the heartbeat and pointed out the baby. Lucy's breath caught as she heard the faintest heartbeat from the screen, and for whatever reason, it seemed to ease her worries. There was a heartbeat. She could see it and she could hear it. There was a baby, because she could see it. There was a living thing inside of her.

For some reason, just seeing it on the screen made her happier than she ever expected.

The taxi ride home had mostly been in silence, with the only sounds coming from Ingrid. Lucy didn't know what to say and neither did Bickslow. Just seeing the baby and hearing the heartbeat of the tiny living thing inside of Lucy, made it seem so much more real.

Bickslow had been pretty sure he had tears well up in his eyes as soon as he'd seen it, and almost instinctively, he'd held Ingrid just a little bit tighter. Just seeing the baby on the screen had an indescribable feeling of joy wash over him. But he couldn't say that to Lucy. He had to try and seem indifferent, because he still didn't want her to have to do anything she didn't want to.

So as soon as they'd gotten back to the apartment and Ingrid was with Claire for the rest of the afternoon and their apartment door was closed behind them, Lucy stopped. She stood in front of the door with her arms by her sides and looked towards Bickslow. "Bicks, we need to talk…" she said quietly.

And Bickslow knew exactly what she wanted to talk about. He'd seen it coming a mile away, and even though he was worried about what she'd say, he needed to hear it. He needed to hear whatever it was she'd decided, because Bickslow knew she had. As soon as he'd seen that baby with a heartbeat on the screen, he knew exactly what he wanted.

But what he wanted didn't matter. It was about what Lucy wanted. That's just how Bickslow saw things.

Lucy really had decided though. As soon as she'd heard that heartbeat, she knew exactly what she wanted to do, and even though Lucy was positive it was a decision she shouldn't have made on her own and so quickly, she wouldn't be able to bring herself to do anything other than what she'd decided.

So with a steadying breath, she said quietly, "Look, I know neither of us wanted this… And that it's unexpected and honestly at a bad time with everything that's going on… But, this baby… I can't… I couldn't… I could never…" she trailed off into silence, feeling the anxiety and worry rise within her once again. She was so worried about what Bickslow wanted, because what if her decision was the exact opposite of what he wanted? What was she going to do then?

She needed Bickslow in her life. She needed Bickslow to help her get through everything.

Bickslow could already feel his heart begin to break from her words. She can't? She couldn't? What couldn't she do? Keep the baby? Is that what she was going to say? He didn't want to hear the words, because it was going to devastate him. Just a heartbeat alone had made everything so real, and now that reality was going to be taken away.

But he couldn't do anything, if that's what she decided to do. It was a decision that he had to let her make because Lucy was the priority. If she didn't want the baby, then Bickslow would have to be okay with it. He'd have to get over his own pain from it to continue helping her with her own pain – her pain from something his other self had done.

So Bickslow waited for the words that he was certain she was going to say. He braced himself for the inevitable."

"I want to keep the baby."

And Lucy really did. As soon as she'd seen that heartbeat, the baby she was carrying became her baby. It was her baby, just like Ingrid was her daughter.

Even though at first she'd been completely shocked and shaken to her very core over finding out, and even though she'd been in denial about it, she had completely accepted it. She was pregnant, and she was one-hundred percent aware of it. No denial, just acceptance.

Everything had changed so much in three and a half days that it was scary. It was truly terrifying. But… She'd had Bickslow for those days, helping her through it all. He was helping her through the worst of times and making her believe that everything was going to be okay.

But saying she wanted to keep the baby was risking it all. She was risking losing Bickslow, and she really, really wanted to keep both. She needed Bickslow. She needed him to help her, and she needed him to help her through things and support her more so than ever. But, if Bickslow didn't want the baby, then she'd lose it all anyway, and even though it had only been a few short days of having Bickslow so close to her, Lucy didn't know what she'd do if she lost that.

"You… You really want to keep the baby?" Bickslow asked quietly, his brow furrowed. He wasn't sure if he'd heard the right words. Surely not. It had to have been his mind playing tricks on him, making him hear what he wanted her to say.

Lucy looked down with a slight nod. "I do."

She wanted to keep the baby. She really wanted to keep the baby. Bickslow hadn't been imagining it.

He closed the distance between them in one swift movement and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into the tightest hug he could, and lifted her off the ground. He couldn't help but sigh loudly against the crook of her neck when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He was so happy in that moment, and he didn't even truly understand why.

But hell, she was keeping the baby.

Lucy pulled her head back from where it was resting on his shoulder and looked back to Bickslow. She could see the sheer joy in his eyes alone and it made her heart melt, just knowing that Bickslow also wanted to keep the baby. Just from what she saw alone, she knew that was the case. Lucy was so happy in that moment, and it wasn't just because she was having a baby (which, for the first time in nearly four days, she was ecstatic about), but it was because she knew Bickslow was going to stay by her side. Bickslow was going to be there for her through everything; he was going to help her when she needed help, he was going to make her laugh when she needed to, and he was going to make her feel safe and like everything was okay.

And in that moment, she knew that everything really was going to be okay. Because she had Bickslow. Bickslow was going to make everything okay.

Biting on her bottom lip slightly as the corners of her mouth pulled up into a small smile, and as a watery laugh escaped, she whispered, "Bicks, we're going to have another baby."

"We really are."

And for the first time, they both admitted out loud and to each other, as well as themselves, that they were indeed having another baby. Everything felt so real, and even though they were both in chaotic emotional states from everything that was going on their lives, they were both completely overjoyed. They were really having a baby, and they weren't afraid to show just how damn happy that made them.

But then suddenly, almost entirely without thinking about it, Lucy moved her hands from his shoulders and took his face in her hands, and quickly pressed her lips to his.