A/N: Dear Liu: Fuck you. Love, onelildustbunni. PS~ Happy holidays everyone.

( Volume: 4 Arc: "midnight hour" Issue: 1/3 )

Chapter 161 : Five minutes to…

Six days after setting out, the Kellers were back in their house, all completely exhausted. Even James was too tired to offer snarky comments; he took his suitcase meekly into his room, and collapsed in his bed, releasing a snore almost the instant his head hit the pillow.

"I don't think I could've handled that if I wasn't an X-man," Julian said, sprawled on the couch, his eyes glassy from the constant pressure in his head. "Holy shit, did he actually stop screaming long enough to fall asleep?"

"Keller, put a quarter in the swear jar," Laura said, craning her neck up to look at him in disapproval.

"Shrimps are in their cribs." Seeing her expression, he sighed. "Don't have change just now. How 'bout I just set them up with a billion-dollar trust fund each and cuss as much as I want?"

"That won't cut it." Laura closed her eyes, resting her head against his shoulder. "Holy fuck. I think this has officially overwhelmed my healing factor."

"Too bad your enemies haven't figured it out. All this money spent on expensive weaponry, when all they had to do was throw a pair of screaming toddlers in your general direction."

"Mmm." Laura sighed. "Let's go to bed. I don't want to think about our normal life till tomorrow, 'cause it sucks."

"Okay." Julian wrapped his arms around her midsection, his hands splayed on her stomach, pressing his face against her neck and breathing in her smell. She shivered in response, and he figured that was a signal to proceed. Laura got up after a few moments, took his hand and led him to their bedroom, filled with the sound of the sleeping Shrimps.

They moved quietly into the bed, and spend a few minutes reclaiming territory, more thoroughly than the other night, which had been a bit more tentative. Kisses deepened until they were both breathless, clothes were pulled off, and at a certain point, Laura, straddling his lap, reached for a bedside drawer.

Julian hesitated, then also reached out and caught her wrist. She looked down at him questioningly; her eyes widened and she suddenly seemed uncertain, but she withdrew her hand empty, having read his message clearly.

In the following minutes, neither noticed the tiny hitch—a hiccup—in the breathing of both of the Shrimps. At precisely midnight.

…

"That's weird," Laura said, yawning and stretching; she had just woken to the warm and secure feeling of being held in warm, strong arms. She looked much rosier and happier in the soft morning light; Julian wondered briefly if this was more than just happiness, and what he'd just signed himself up for.

"What?" he asked.

"Shrimps aren't raising hell yet." Laura glanced at the wall clock. "It's nine AM, Keller. Normally they're—"

A small moan hit both their ears, from Nate's crib. Laura was out of bed before Julian could even think about what had just happened. He joined her at the side of the crib (after sliding on boxers, the covers being wrapped around Laura's midsection like a toga) and watched as she reached in, her face full of concern.

"What's wrong, Nate?" she asked.

"Don' feel good." Nate's head appeared over the edge of the crib. "Hurts."

His face is flushed.

"Maybe they got a cold at Disneyland?" Julian suggested. "That place is a festering germ-trap. I can't wait to find out what I got."

"He's got a healing factor, Keller," Laura said, Nate now in her arms. She touched her forehead, and shrieked.

"What?" Julian is alarmed.

"FEEL his forehead!" Laura gasped, grabbing his hand and forcing it to touch the boy's brow. It was surprisingly hot with fever.

"Joooo…" Rachel called from the other crib. He turned, to see the little girl's face poking over the edge—flushed, in a similar fashion.

"DO SOMETHING!" Laura snapped, in a panic.

"Wha—they're not the first kids to have a fever, Laura! Just chill, okay? We'll clean up and head to the—"

"NOW!" Laura roared, making Julian and both Shrimps wince.

He knew she wouldn't let up, and sighed. "Let me at least get dressed, jeez."

…

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY SON?" Laura thundered.

Julian, Dr. McCoy, and Logan—along with the Shrimps—winced at the unexpected volume of voice coming from the young woman. It was almost as if she were using a bullhorn to reach people across a large football stadium.

"Please, Laura, calm down," Dr. McCoy said. "It's just a fever and some achy joints…hardly fatal."

"FATAL?" Laura was screaming now.

"LAURA!" Logan snapped. "Keep it down, half-pint! Yer scarin' yer own children."

She paused at this, and blinked, then took a deep breath. "Okay. What the hell is going on here? Why are they sick? They can't be—they have my healing!"

"I'm not certain yet," Dr. McCoy said. "I will take some blood samples, and a few scans, if the littlest Kellers could remain with me. Afterward, I will settle down to finding out exactly why these little tots are feeling so yucky." The last part was said to the Shrimps, who were sitting on a metal gurney, their legs dangling over the edge.

Laura's claws pop; Snkkt!

"Well I need to know now!"

"That's great, Laura," Julian said, in a dry tone. "We're going home. Thanks, Dr. McCoy."

"A pleasure as usual." Dr. McCoy smiled at the Shrimps. "I don't suppose anyone has use for these yoyos." Pulling his paws out of his pockets, he dangled the toys by their strings, then flipped them around and twirled the strings together in an impressive trick.

The Shrimps were clearly fascinated.

"WANT!" they yelped together, frantically.

"How the heck do you do that, Dr. McCoy?" Julian asked, his forehead wrinkled. "Do you always keep toys in your pockets?"

"No," Dr. McCoy says, smiling as he gives each Shrimp a sparkly yoyo.

"But…we didn't tell you that we were coming," Julian persists.

"Emma and I have a deal. She alerts me whenever these darling children of yours are headed this way for a visit, and I split my toy store purchases with her."

"OH," Laura said. "That makes sense. I was totally confused when she started handing out goodies too…she just doesn't seem like the type to—"

"To what?"

All heads turned towards Emma Frost, who was now standing in the doorway. Her eyebrows were raised in delicate arches as she waited for Laura to complete her sentence.

"Well, to go toy shopping," Julian offered. "I was a little stumped by that myself."

"Nonsense. I am delighted at the thought of spending hour upon hour trolling through brightly colored plastics, plush playthings and simple educational tools," Emma said, not sounding enthused at all. "My only complaints lie in the loud noises and that mysterious—"

"Sticky substance," Laura cut in. "We know all about that."

Logan grunted. "Yeah, what the hell is that shit? It's all over my TV. I spent a bit sniffin' it, till Kitty popped in and asked me what on earth I was doin'."

"I've noticed it in my office," Emma said. "On my pens, and anywhere the twins have been."

The group gazed at the Shrimps.

"Bring me one of your pens, Emma," Dr. McCoy suggested. "I could analyze the substance under a microscope."

"I'm honestly afraid to find out what it is," Julian said. "I've been getting by with the idea that it's like a slug trail, only a million times grosser."

"Urrr," Emma Frost said, with a slight shudder. "Perhaps Mr. Keller is correct. Let's concentrate on the wellbeing of the two patients, for now."

…

"Keller…I don't like this," Laura said.

She was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, while Julian sat at the table, rubbing his face. The Shrimps were with Dr. McCoy and Emma Frost, who had barely managed to pry the overprotective mother away.

"Relax," he said. "It's just a cold."

"No it isn't!" Laura snapped. "I have a really, really bad feeling about this!"

"Laura, they're kids. Kids get sick all the time. So what if they have a healing factor? Maybe they just couldn't handle the awesomeness that is Disneyland Germs. More than a couple million people go there every day…you honestly think they're not going to pick something up?"

Laura stopped pacing, ran a hand through her hair. "Maybe you're right. Oh—I don't know, Keller! I just feel so keyed up and—"

"Worried, 'coz they're your babies," Julian finished for her. "Just try to relax. They'll be better in no time. By the way, speaking of babies…?" he trailed off, giving her a questioning look.

Laura raised her eyebrow, then her expression changed. "OH! THAT!"

"Yeah, that," Julian said, a little miffed that she could have forgotten so easily. "Glad to know it's really important to you."

She blushed slightly. "Give me a break, Keller. I'm busy keeping the first ones alive. And besides…we're not going to find that out for a bit."

"Oh." Julian felt uneasy. Another period of waiting to find out whether his life was more over than it already was (a thought that confused him immensely). In reality he didn't really want to talk about it, but he had been right in thinking this was a subject that could distract Laura. She headed to the table and took a seat, now smiling slightly, distracted by the thought.

"We could try again," she said suddenly. "You know, later, when the Shrimps are home and asleep. I mean…the more the better, right?"

"Right," Julian said. Suddenly he realized what she was referring to, and a new possibility opens up to him: she probably would now want to be intimate as often as was possible. He shifted slightly. Could he scrape up the courage to do it again? Now that the thought that 'maybe the first time didn't do it' has struck him?

He looked at Laura's smile—something that has only begun to appear again very recently—and decided he damn well could. If that was all it would take to make her happy, then he would give it his all.

"No one's home right now," he pointed out. "Jim's in class."

"Keller!" Laura sounded outraged. "The Shrimps—"

"Are in the best of hands." He reached over and put his hand on hers; she looked down at their fingers uncertainly. "Maybe the distraction will help."

"I…" Laura hesitated, then her eyes slid to the table. Almost instantly Julian knew what she was thinking (maybe he was telepathic after all), and he pushed back his chair, suddenly determined to make it happen.

…

"I forgot that could feel so good," Laura said, leaning on the doorframe, her cheeks still flushed slightly.

"I never forget," Julian replied, staring at himself in the mirror. A moment later, a green wave passed over his face, and his five-o-clock shadow evaporated, leaving his skin as smooth as if it had never occupied the space. "Pity about the chair, though. And the table."

Laura bit her lip. "Do you think anyone will notice?"

They were referring to the chair that had been totaled during one escapade. In addition, Laura had popped her claws and rammed her fists into the table top, momentarily unconcerned.

"Jim might notice when he tries to sit down on it. The holes….just put a tablecloth on, and like a basket or something."

Laura moved forward, as he turned toward the shower, and put her fingertips lightly on his chest. "Thanks," she said softly.

"For what? The sperm?" Julian grinned. "I like to donate. Giving makes me feel good. This warm glowy feeling, surprisingly similar to c—"

"Fuck off," Laura said, but she also looked amused. "I meant everything. I know you're not a hundred percent on having another one…but you know I am, so you do it. You've always given me what I needed, when I needed it."

Julian smiled for a moment, something he hadn't done in a while, either. He'd been unconsciously wanting to hear this for a long time—this approval that he was doing the right thing.

"Let's clean up," he said, taking her gently by the wrist and guiding her towards the shower, his mood much, much lighter than it had been in Dr. McCoy's office.