A/N: Yes, I know…fickle muses and college exams do not a good match make. Sorry this took so long…I had to get my imagination unstuck from writer's block.

"Am I back in Hell?" Blackheart wondered out loud.

Newborn babies sure were demanding…the crying all the time was new to him. After a while, he hated that sound and would go scrambling around trying to get it to stop. Squishie wasn't helping any; if she sensed that he was angry, she wouldn't let him near the baby.

"I'm not going to hurt Treasure," Blackheart growled back at her one day. Squishie moved, but she never took her dark eyes off of him.

After changing Treasure's wet diaper, the baby calmed down immediately and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why does she cry so much?" Blackheart asked Dawn, who had just emerged from the bathroom.

"That's the only way she knows how to tell us she wants something," Dawn informed him, "she'll learn to talk a little bit later."

Dawn was tired too, but she didn't complain. Blackheart couldn't help but smile smugly; if she'd met him before he was given a soul, she'd really have a hard time with the image of him holding a baby. It was hard to believe that these hands that had tortured souls in the most brutal way possible could be so gentle.

"Other than the sleep deprivation," Dawn said, almost reading his mind, "do you like being a father?"

He wasn't sure. At first, he said yes. Then he said no. Then he said there were parts he liked and parts he didn't.

"Understandable," Dawn said empathetically. She heated up Treasure's bottle and took the baby to the couch to feed her. Squishie scratched Blackheart's leg.

"Don't you know how to ask nicely?" he asked the dog sarcastically. He chuckled when she sat up on her hind legs and begged.

"Okay, there's no way you're really just a dog," he teased, dumping some dog food into her bowl.

"Sometimes I think she's smarter than I am," Dawn admitted.

"So…beef or chicken?"

He held up two frozen dinners.

"Both."

"Both it is."

He still couldn't cook worth a crap, but he could microwave things. Dawn didn't complain at all, though she was looking forward to having real food. After Treasure burped, Dawn lay her in her crib while they ate their own dinners at the kitchen table.

"I hope he doesn't come back," she said suddenly.

"Who?"

He knew perfectly well who she was talking about, but he was in denial at the moment.

"You know…your dad," Dawn sighed, "I keep thinking he's going to pop out of nowhere and do something bad to us."

Blackheart stared guiltily at the plastic tray, half-eaten in front of him.

"It's silly, I know…I just had this awful nightmare last night that he tried to take my baby. It's probably just my out-of-whack hormones," she said dismissively. She hadn't meant to make him feel bad.

"Sometimes I feel the same way," he admitted, putting his hand over hers, "but I'll do the best I can to keep him away."

It was good enough. Dawn squeezed his hand and went back to eating.

The rest of the evening was quiet, though there was a tension in the air. Dawn fell asleep during a movie with her head laying against Blackheart's shoulder. When Treasure cried, she stirred with a mumble.

"I'll get it," he whispered. She shifted to let him up, then sagged back against the couch without ever opening her eyes.

He lifted the baby out of her crib.

"What do you want, little girl?" he asked her. Then—

"Goodness…I'll be glad when you're potty-trained."

He stripped the sodden diaper away and wiped her off. He had just fastened the clean diaper closed when a familiar dark presence washed over the room.

"What do you want?" he asked without turning around.

"I don't get the privilege of seeing the newest addition to the family?" Mephisto's voice was coy. Blackheart snapped the baby's jumper closed and turned to face him.

"Oh…she's a beauty," the older man commented, "what a blessing that Siren blood only grows stronger and doesn't get diluted with generations."

He stroked the infant's cheek. Her eyes were open and she lay still, staring blankly. She wouldn't be able to see clearly until she was a little older, but it was as if she knew…

"Dawn doesn't like you being here," Blackheart said calmly and quietly, "I'd appreciate it if you'd just go before she wakes up."

Mephisto chuckled.

"Awfully ungracious of you, especially after I gave you this little family. I could take it away just like that."

He snapped his finger on the word that.

"What do you want?" Blackheart asked a little more sharply this time. He cradled Treasure in his arms protectively and hoped that the infant's whimpers wouldn't turn into full-on cries again.

"Now you sound like you again. I want the Sirens," Mephisto said finally, "they'd be very valuable to all of us. Of course, we'd have to train the little one…the longer they train, the better the voice. She could be even better than her mother."

Blackheart stared.

"Dawn would never agree to that," he protested, "she wouldn't want this baby near Hell and I don't want either one of them near Hell. There's too much innocence in their souls for that."

"Innocence is easily stolen," Mephisto commented, "remember that."

He disappeared in a puff of rotten-smelling smoke. Dawn, coughing and gagging, emerged in the doorway.

"That sleazy son-of-a…"

She held her arms out for Treasure and Blackheart handed her over. Cradling the upset Treasure against her chest, Dawn sighed.

"Why can't he leave us alone! I won't let him have my baby!"

"Easy…" Blackheart sighed, "he's not getting either one of you. I told you I won't let him."

"But he's the effing Devil! How do I know?" Dawn demanded.

Blackheart placed his hand on her cheek so that she would look into his eyes. Squishie scratched on both their legs.

"I'm not sure," he told her, "but there is one person more powerful than my dad."

Dawn nodded.

Her eyes followed his to the drawing of Jesus Christ that she had drawn one day while Treasure had been taking a nap.

"Well?" she asked.

"The question is does he listen to people like me," Blackheart said, half-heartedly joking.