It had been months. Months since that faithful night that Alice had fallen into his life, and months since they had played her father for all that scratch. Her mother had been horrified when she learned that Alice had discovered the circumstances of her 'adoption' and had pleaded with the girl not to reveal any of the circumstances to any of the family, or the public. So, while Whitey walked off with $10 million American, Alice had received a rather generous trust fund, of nearly $15 million. Her father had been less than pleased with the situation, and had tried to convince Alice of the follies this path had. Alice had laughed, kissed her mother on the cheek, and informed them of her change of major as she waltzed out of their home in New York. She had purchased a large townhouse right in the middle of London, moving herself in, and transferring to the University of Westminster in short order. Her parents were still paying her tuition, but had taken a large step back from her life.

The first time Whitey saw her house, all he could do was whistle. They were moving the last of her things in, as delivery men set the furniture she had ordered. Alice laughed at his expression as he turned around in her foyer.

"This is the biggest fucking place I've ever been in."

"Oh come on Whitey, You've been in the Duchess' palace."

"Never past the back entrance, love."

"Oh." Alice turned away as she processed his meaning. How easily she sometimes forgot his past. They spent the rest of the day stowing boxes in the appropriate rooms, until darkness began to fall. Alice quietly suggested dinner, and they retreated to her kitchen. That was the night Whitey found out Alice couldn't cook, but it was also the night Alice found out that Whitey could do phenomenal things with a skillet and eggs.

It was less than six months later that Whitey moved into her house, after having been grazed by a stray bullet after a firefight occurred in his block of flats. Alice had insisted as she watched him be stitched up at the emergency. So, he had moved all his things into her house, and she gave him a room to put his things into. His whole flat fit into one bedroom in her house. He cheerfully created a comfy living area, but spent his nights with her. Now, nine months down the road, she was done with school for the year, and very angry with him. He wasn't sure why, but he could hear her slamming drawers and doors. He quietly walked over to their bedroom, and stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb.

"What's wrong, love?" she started and turned towards him. There were tears running down her face, and she hastily brushed them away.

"You should know Whitey." she huffed, and continued throwing clothes into a duffel. He came over and sat on the bed.

"What are you talking about?" He leaned over and reached for her hand. She pulled away from his reach, and zipped the bag shut. She hefted it onto her shoulder, then reached down for her laptop bag and purse. He followed her as she stomped down the stairs and up to the door.

"Alice…" she held up a hand to stop him.

"If you really want to know, go look in our bathroom." He watched helplessly as she climbed into a cab and disappeared into the night. He ran up the stairs to their bathroom, and there sitting on the counter was a magazine, open to a gorgeous ring, and a positive pregnancy test.