A/N: I apologize over and over for the long wait. I hope you all enjoy this chappy! It starts the morning after the little Lancelot show. :D

Shyare woke up the next morning with a scowl. All last night she had nightmares of walking in on Lancelot. She would wake up after each nightmare, and after trying not to fall asleep it would reappear. Shyare shook her head; the image was still popping up.

Looking around the room, she noticed the children were already gone. Sighing with relief, she decided to take a long awaited bath that thankfully, Tristan had been kind enough to have someone leave there for her. She slipped off her clothing that was now encrusted with dry blood. Her knives and daggers were left out to be cleaned.

Slipping into the tub, she was grateful for it still being hot. She lent her head back against the wooden side and closed her eyes. Shyare used the mint soap concoction that had been left near her. She scrubbed herself until her skin was red and she was sure she was clean. She stepped out carefully onto the stone floor, making sure not to slip. Just as she reached out for the towel, the door opened, revealing a very shocked Lancelot.

Shyare quickly pulled the towel around herself while yelling, "You could knock!"

The dark knight didn't seem to hear however. He was standing with a dropped jaw and staring at Shyare with wide eyes. Shyare rolled her eyes and started towards him to shove him out the door. Her plan failed however. In those few moments, she had forgotten about the slippery floor. Just as she reached him, she slid on the stone and straight into Lancelot, managing to knock him down with her on top of him.

He slipped out of his stupor and smirked up at her, his hands casually resting on her hips. Growling in anger, Shyare tried her best to stand up while keeping the towel around her for her dignity. Lancelot was now propped up on his elbows and grinning from ear to ear. She slammed the door, accidentally having her towel caught in the lock. She ripped open the door again and pulled out her small covering while slamming the entrance with an even bigger bang. Thankfully, Lancelot was unable to see her slip again after her little show.

"At least we're even!" he called through the door, before she heard his footsteps become faint.

Shyare huffed in anger as she sat on her bed, pulling on fresh clothing. Lancelot never came into her quarters, and on the day he actually does he got a little show! The nerve of him not knocking!

She continued to place her knives and such in her boots and belt. Finally done, she opened the door and stepped in to the hallway, only to find Lancelot leaning against the wall with crossed arms. She let out a small yelp for she didn't notice him at first.

"What do you want?" Shyare barked at him.

"Well, first off, I wanted to thank you for that fine show…I knew you were pretty…but wow!" he ranted on while making long strides to keep up with her.

She was not amused and a frown formed, Lancelot decided to continue on, "I actually wanted to apologize for last night."

Shyare stopped in mid-step, the image came back. Lancelot laughed, "I know you had to witness that, but come on, you can't tell me that you don't find me handsome."

She turned to face him, "Lancelot! You are the last man I would want to see like that!"

"The scout doesn't even compare to me!" he retorted with a short laugh, "You know you want me." he finished seductively.

Shyare turned angrily and gave him a punch in the gut, "Once again! I do not like you Lancelot!"

He was hunched over with a red face. Shyare sighed; it wasn't even a hard punch. Pulling him by his tunic she stood him straight, "On a more serious note, I have to speak with you."

Lancelot decided not to put up a fight. He simply nodded, hoping for her not to get angry again, or at least not to the point where she would hit him.

"That little girl is yours! Why didn't you speak up?" she ranted while smacking his shoulder.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked defensively, not even bothering to deny it, "I don't have anyone to care for her!"

"You're her father! She's your first child!" Shyare continued fiercely, "Does that mean nothing to you?"

Lancelot looked at the floor and scuffed his shoe; he finally muttered something that Shyare couldn't hear.

"What did you say?" she inquired while leaning forward to hear him.

"She means something to me!" Lancelot yelled while looking into her eyes.

Shyare smirked, the truth was evident, "I knew she did. Now what do you plan on doing?"

"I want to raise her," he mumbled.

"Good," Shyare said with a nod, "I already have a nurse for her. You'll have to speak to her for full time care for now until she's old enough for food other than milk. She'll then be cared by you when you're not on missions. I expect you'll go see your daughter sometime later today."

Lancelot nodded, "You didn't name her did you?"

"No, we haven't had the chance," Shyare answered truthfully.

"Good," he added with a nod, walking off with out a word.

"Where are you going?" Shyare called after him.

"To see my daughter!" he retorted with a grin.

Shyare watched him walk off with a smile. She was happy that Lancelot would care for his daughter, and would do so openly. She had a feeling his child would be a daddy's girl. Shyare went to find her own bunch after Lancelot turned the corner and was out of sight.

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chappy! Please review! No flames! Ideas and opinions are welcome!