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Summary: Jenny really thought she was having a boy. November 2006

'Did you want a boy?' She has to whisper because she's on a ward, yes a goddamn ward with other people on it, yay for the NHS and all but what she wouldn't give for a private room. Trying to persaude Rupert to bribe the nurse in charge had been completely unsuccessful, he'd been appalled and said far too loudly that he 'certainly wouldn't slip the nurse fifty bucks, that's not how we do things here' in front of Nazi Nurse and now the bitch hates her. Apparently she's 'perfectly healthy enough' to be on a ward but 'her and baby' have to stay the night because she's an 'older mother' and there might be complications. Well, fuck her- she's not forty for another six weeks and if she sneers at her one more time...okay, she won't do anything right now because her newborn baby girl is asleep in her arms but a call will be placed, a call to a certain witch and a boil will appear on that bitch's ass so quick that...

Her husband is looking at her like she's insane.

'Jenny, why on earth would you think that?'

Dread comes over her as his surprised expression turns into one of deep offense, one that he carries off a bit too well. She backtracks hastily.

'I'm sorry, it's just that-'

'When have I ever given you the slightest impression that I subscribe to the ridiculous outdated idea that a man must have a son to be complete?' He lowers his voice from shouty whisper to actual whisper, 'Especially considering my line of work. The very notion that boys are any better than girls...' He trails off only to direct the full strength of his haughty stare at her and tuts for full effect.

She sighs theatrically.

'Okay, okay. Girls are great, I get it. It's just I'm pretty sure I'm still high on painkillers and then when you were in the bathroom I hear that blonde bimbo across the hall going on about how happy she is about 'giving her husband a son and heir' and, I don't know, I just had a temporary lapse of insanity. I'm over it now though, okay? Fully over it, so you can drop your wounded puppy look.'

Thankfully he looks suitably chastened and then, unexpectedly, he cracks an ironic smile.

'You er, might want to drop the blonde jokes, you know considering...' he nods towards their daughter's downy head, cradled in Jenny's arms.

'Oh yeah. We had a little baby blondie. How did that happen?'

'Recessive genes I expect.'

'Mmm. Or,' she leans forward as a disturbing possibility occurs to her, 'that slapper of a nurse switched babies to spite me!'

He quirks an eyebrow, looking amused and disapproving at the same time.

'Jenny, I think you are rather still high on painkillers. Perhaps I should hold the baby. Unless you'd prefer me to swap her for one that looks more like us? Or dye her hair maybe? I could go to the chemist as soon as I leave.'

'No!' Her arms tighten protectively around her bundle of recessive genes. 'She's fine with me And as soon as you leave here you're going straight home to Lexie to remind her how much she misses Mommy.'

He's fairly sure that Lexie's having a whale of a time with Uncle Xander and doesn't miss either of them particularly but he lets it go as she's obviously feeling uncharacteristically fragile.

'Ah, Jenny- 'slapper'?'

'Yeah! I heard it from one of the kids in class a few weeks ago. What, did I say it wrong?'

'Well, slightly out of context. I mean, she may not be promiscuous at all for all we know.'

'Probably not, with a face like that,' she mutters darkly which leads him to decide that the subject needs to be changed and swiftly.

'Anyway. I'd rather that she wasn't known as 'baby blondie' forever. You know how the kids tend to latch onto annoying nicknames like that.'

' They're twenty five, Rupert.'

He scowls.

'Dawn isn't.'

'If you call her a kid she'll probably decapitate you.'

'Can we please just name our daughter!'

She settles herself in for what she expects to be a long conversation/argument.

'Okay. Don't bite my head off but did you have a boy's name picked out?'

Wounded puppy dog look comes back with alarming speed.

'I'm not allowed to name the children, remember? On account of my bad taste.'

'Well, yeah obviously. But I thought if your boy name wasn't too awful we could maybe girlify it.' She looks guiltily at the baby and covers the one tiny ear that isn't nestled against her body. 'I really thought she'd be a boy. I didn't even think about girl names. What does that say about my maternal instinct?'

He searches wildly for some way to make her feel better about herself as a parent.

'Remember when you thought Lexie was an alien queen?'

'That was only because Alien Resurrection was on the TV when I was on maternity leave! And I didn't actually think it! I just said it would be weird if...oh!'

'Ripley is out of the question.'

'But it's badass! And Ellen is too oldfashioned.'

'Debatable. But anyway,' he allows himself a modest expression of triumph, 'I wasn't certain that we were having a boy. Actually, I've got a girl's name up my sleeve and before you dismiss it out of hand-'

'Your track record is going against you here. I don't care if Victoria was England's finest queen- and by the way Tim in the history department says it was actually Elizabeth I- you're still not naming my kid that.'

'Jenny, I'm fairly sure that was a perfect example of 'dismissing out of hand.''

'Okay, fine, sorry- let's hear it.'

'Remember, don't just-'

'Okay. I will give it fair consideration. Now c'mon, out with it. I'm not getting any younger as my so-called care provider keeps reminding me.'

He waits long enough to create a dramatic pause and then says the name in particularly hushed tones, in case it's stolen by anyone else.

'Isabel.'

When he doesn't hear the scathing tones of instant rejection he dares to hope and yes, Jenny is staring thoughtfully, no, could that be approvingly at their daughter.

'Isabel. It's kind of...yeah. She could definitely be an Isabel.'

'Really?'

To be honest, he can't believe his ears, long may the effect of the painkillers last in his opinion.

'Yeah. Who'd have thought you'd come up with something cool, yet classic?'

'It's after-'

'No, don't ruin it. Not everyone has to be named after a historical figure, you know. We picked it because it was the unexpected perfect combination of elegance and edginess, okay?' The challenging tone lets him know, to his relief, that she's starting to feel herself again.

'Alright. I'll call Xander then, so he can spread the news to the others.

'Oh, tell him to tell Lexie too! Tell her about her new sister- Isabel Ripley Giles.'

'Jenny, no. Just no. I beg of you, be reasonable.'

She bestows on him a sweet, terrifying smile.

'Since when was I ever reasonable?'

el fin