In the kitchen of the Brownstone, the little cuckoo clock rang three times, indicating the third hour of the new day. Everyone was asleep, or presumably so.
On the roof of the brownstone, two lone figures stood, looking up at the night sky, where an almost full moon shone brightly, highlighting their outlines with silver streaks.
"We'll have to lock Lune in the shelter in a few days." Jay said.
"Remember last time? She got out and started running around. It took us a week to find her."
"Yeah," Theresa snorted. "In Alberta. Good thing we had given her that tracking collar before she transformed, huh?"
Chuckling, Jay wrapped his muscled arms around Theresa, holding her close.
"So, why did you drag me upstairs at this time of the morn? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow?"
Theresa went rigid in his arms, her mouth open as if she was going to say something, but her words stayed in her mouth.
Suddenly worried, Jay turned her around and looked into her eyes, reflecting the moon behind them.
"Therry, what's wrong? Did you sense something else? Another presence? Is it the same one as before?"
At that, Theresa broke out into tears.
Confused, Jay held her tighter against his chest, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet and kissing the top of her head.
"Therry, what's wrong?" He asked.
Stopping the flow of tears, Theresa wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and looked up into Jay's dark brown eyes.
"Yes, I did sense something else. In fact, it's much closer than we could have ever imagined."
Now thoroughly worried, Jay sat down on the edge separating him from falling.
"What do you mean by that? Is it Cronus? Is he back?"
Theresa laughed a dry, cold laugh, very unlike her.
Taking Jay's large hand in hers, she placed it over her abdomen.
"No Jay, Cronus is dead. But let's just say that we aren't the only ones on the roof tonight."
Jay was about to ask another question when realization dawned on his face.
Theresa had a bump. A quite large bump, actually.
As if to confirm his fears, Something inside kicked out, and Jay was pretty sure that it wasn't indigestion.
If only Pepto-Bismol could cure this problem.
How long?" He asked, the blood drained from his face and his voice rough.
"Three months."
Suddenly, both of them were cold.
Both it wasn't because of the night air.