IdonotownElswordoranyofitscharactersinanyway,shape ,orform. Please look below before continuing on to the story, thank you.

Note: I would like to sincerely apologize for waiting so long to update. *Hangs head* there is no excuse. At all. In the least. Lock me up and throw away the key . . . Thanks for reading, you may now continue on *kowtows*.

. . . Three Months Later . . .

El, stratches his head nervously. Aisha's been acting funny lately. Even for Aisha. She'd been getting dizzy a lot, and starting to work up quite an appetite-for things loaded with sugar. Anything else she'd flat-out refuse. And he'd caught her leaning over the sink on more than one occation. She'd washed out whatever was in there before he could see, but he could tell what she'd been doing by the drained look on her face . . . amoung other things.

Something bad was happening to his wife, and really, it was scaring El. Badly.

. . .

"Aisha?"

"Yeah, El?" Ashia's smile strains, then disappears when she sees her husband tower above her.

Elsword looks his wife straight in the eye, trying to look as imposing as possible*. But it's a hard act to keep up, and with Aisha looking up at him like that, in an apron of all things. Honestly, back in the old days that look meant she was about to rip his head off. That's another thing that scares him to pieces . . .

The swordsman shakes his head, the reason he's doing this is because he's scared. Not of her, but for her.

"You. Me. Doctor. Go. Now. No complaints." He takes Aisha by the hand and stalks out the door before she can even give a peep.

. . .

The half the nursing staff runs outdoors when they hear a commotion on their front lawn.

"I'M FINE YOU TWO-BIT KNUCKLEHEAD!"

"FINE, HA! FINE ISN'T CRYING SPELLS AND EMERGENCEY TRIPS TO THE BATHROOM! FINE ISN'T AVOIDING EVERY FOOD ON THE MENUE EXCEPT THE ONES HYPED UP ON SUGAR!"

The brawnier part of the nursing staff eventually takes over, separating the two combatants. A doctor arrives on the scene, looking more than a little annoyed at having his patience listen to this uproar. He looks down his nose at the two*, sets his jaw, and growls two sentences which makes their hearts leap.

"You're wife is pregnant, obviously. Come inside, and be quiet about it."

Of course, the Rune Slayer doesn't come inside. He runs inside, dragging Aisha, who went into shock upon hearing the "P" word. The nursing staff just goes back to business, used to Elsword's antics.

. . .

With the number of a good obstetrician clutched firmly in hand, El sits in the living room, fully amazed. He's going. To. Be. A. Fa-th-er. The word sounds almost as good as "husband" in his mind. Amidst a jumble of things, a few bits stand out in the swordsman's mind.

In six or seven months, there's going to be someone out there with MY genes in them.

I'll be answering to "dad" from now on.

I'm cooked when the kid asks where rain comes from.

Aisha's mind is also far from blank, though her thoughts aren't quite so hopeful.

We're going to have to go on more quests, which'll be hard with me out of the game. We'll need the money, but more dungeons don't help El's chance of getting killed. Especially if he's running on lack of sleep.

Being a mother ain't easy, and we're awfully young, can we handle this responsibility?

At least I know the answer to "Mommy, where does rain come from?".

The couple stays silent for the next few hours, mulling things over. Both look as if they're ready to explode, but refuse to talk things over. Even three months after the wedding, they both firmly believe the other is a tower of strength and incapable of being nervous. I mean, come on, it's practically irrational to be nervous about one little baby. For Pete's sake, they're born every day!

. . .

In bed that night, the two finally do explode.

"Where the blasted heck does rain come from?! I hardly know half the time, and I'm expected to explain it to a kid?! Why don't they make it a law you have to get a degree in meteorology before you become a parent?!"

"HA! That's all that worries you?! What about food, clothing, shelter?! ALL THIS COSTS MONEY WE DON'T HAVE."

"Whataya mean "shelter"?! Isn't this house big enough?!"

"We're going to need extensions for it some time, unless you want the kid to sleep in our room for the next 18-20 years!"

Elsword shivers, taking no heart in the fact he was out on his own by 13, and a registered wanderer by 10.

"And what happens if you get killed, eh? I'm not going to be around your lousy back for quite awhile, and kid or no kid, we need to eat. I'm worried. About me, and the future . . . a future without you."

The Rune Slayer doesn't quite know what to say about this. He stares at Aisha. Aisha stares at him. They turn off the lights and go to bed without another word. But Elsword stays awake thinking.

In all honesty, the Rune Slayer had never really thought about death. Even less now that they'd saved the El. No one would die without him around, and he could go on adventuring as much as he pleased. Things are different now. He's got a family, and that's a heckofa lotta responsibility. It's not even a question of if he's ready for this or not anymore. He's out of control and in for one roller coaster ride after another. Period. End of story . . .

But he can do it, it's . . . it's another adventure. Admittedly, it'll last a little longer then any of the others he's gone on, but it's as simple as 1, 2, 3: He and Aisha'll survive. They've got help-their friends, for one. Heck, most of their world is forever indebted to them; there's gotta be a babysitter in there that would work cheap!

The Rune Slayer gives a wry smile, closing his eyes, hugs his wife (who's pretending to be asleep), and whispers three words in her ear. Three words every woman wants to hear. Three words that Aisha really needs right now:

"I. Love you."

. . .

This is not particularly hard since our Rune Slayer is probably a good five inches taller than her by now. *

Yeah . . . that's pretty much a miracle since they're both at least two inches taller than him. **

Note 1: This is the last of the series, since if I added anything else it would be about having kids, not marriage. This entitled "Married Life Terrors". Now, you could easily fit having a baby in that category, but somehow it just feels that should have it's own separate story.

Note 2: If I DO ever write part three of this, it won't be for a while, so please, don't hold your breath. I would hate to have anyone end up dead on my account.

Thanks for sticking with this for so long. Your nice comments have been appreciated, ideas hilarious and helpful, and you've helped me fix the more glaring errors. Because of this, I would just like to say, for the fiftieth time: Thank you, thank you very much.

. . .

-Omake:

Somewhere in Henir's Time and Space, Banthus lies unconscious. Glaive smirks, stretches, and heads for bed. The man supposes he's a bit more of a romantic that he'd like to admit. The proof being an unfomfortably large blood splatter under El and Aisha's window. Banthus won't be trying to inturrupt anyone for a while.