Love and cookies to yonder fair ladies NCD, HB's Favourite, Saphique and Constance Braveheart for the reviews. Much appreciated.

I'll be honest here, I don't know much about babies. I did research of 'course before I started this, but as always, correct me if you find anything iffy. The matron is based on a midwife I knew. Brilliant woman. She could remember past and present who was on her books, due dates and what they were expecting, off by heart. If I had one on at this present moment in time, I'd take my hat off to her.

Rant ahead: feel free to skip straight to the story.

(But dammit this is hard. I can't get Surge and Imogen to gel in my mind. Maybe cause you don't actually see much of it in the series bar the great outdoors. Perhaps it would have been better I'd tried to have made it Millie/Ben or Hobbs instead. :P Oh well, it's done now if more then a pinch OoC.)

Enjoys

"Caution." a female sounding robot informed them. "Doors now opening."

"Why do they feel the need to say that?" Constance asked glaring up at the ceiling for the speakers hiding spot as the door's indeed opened.

"Health and safety?" Amelia shrugged. Pointless technology seemed a bit odd to her as well. "You know what the non-witch governments like nowadays. Mind you with all these funny cost cuts their making it's a wonder why they bother…"

Stepping out into the hall, both witches (well, mainly the headmistress) braced them selves for another jumbled current of too-ing and fro-ing they'd have to cross, and were quite surprised to find they could happily take a short walk following the well marked, almost empty corridors to the welcome desk they'd been told to report to. In fact, according to the badge pinned onto the woman's large bust, it was Matron herself behind it when they arrived.

"Reception must be rushed of their feet again," Mumbled one of the other nurses scuttling in the background. "They didn't mention anyone coming up."

But her senior seemed to know better and waved her off, curiously surveying the chalk and cheese-cake pair as they approached. Matron was a woman who exuded that rare uncanny vibe, only usually possessed by nannies, hotel workers and three species of chimp, which was somehow warm and wary at the same time but still greeted them with a welcoming smile.

"Good afternoon. You've come to visit one of our patients I take it?"

"Yes thank you." Amelia agreed, with a discreet 'look' at Constance hoping her deputy wouldn't attempt to floor the woman with another of her clever replies. One annoyed NHS employee was enough for one day in the headmistress' view.

"Surname-"

"Cackle."

"Of the family you're visiting." The Matron finished with a kind hearted 'don't worry, it happens all the time' smile.

"Oh."

"Drill-Dubois." Miss Hardbroom smirked back; giving the air she never ever-ever-ever made such silly mistakes. "We're friends of the mother."

Matron nodded and gave with out the need to even look them up on the computer as the receptionist had relied on, effortlessly directed them to the unit they'd find the family, along with the information that visiting hours would end at six-thirty and that despite earlier worries, both mother and baby were doing fine.

There was merely matter of filling in the visitors book, (that showed, much to their amusement, a certain Surge Drill-Dub, father, had not only arrived almost two hours ago and hadn't yet left, but also in his hurry had run out of space to write his name,) thanking the matron and then they were on their way again.

"Now that was certainly more remarkable then the shoddy welcoming efforts being made downstairs." Constance commented.

"Very well spoken I must say." Amelia agreed, a little embarrassed by her daft slip of the tongue. "Not often you come across such a skill. Well present company excluded of course."

Still, it was reassuring to know and see that all the mothers, not just Imogen, were in safe hands with such a professional yet caring nurse in charge of the quarter.

Unlike the reception and corridors they'd come though, The new-arrivals ward seemed a lot brighter more welcoming place, possibly deliberately having acquired the crisp curtains and a not to distant lick of paint from a long overdue revamp but dismissed the squashed modern décor and hullabaloo of downstairs. It was also surprising peaceful, so much so that despite their being no magic in the air Constance's first thought was that a calming spell had been placed as any cries they heard were soothed and calmed quickly and quietly. The place was divided up into units , some with the curtains or doors shut, some flung wide open, others a bit of both but Each with a white board placard covered with dates, weights, doctors opinions and other medical jargon under the family names and sex of the child.

They passed the Dales with 'Patrick (male)'; Harts and their new (female) daughter Miranda, a Rogers: mother of Twins, Autumn &Summer (females), and the Elmont family and baby Adam (male)…

"I'm not overly keen on these modern names."

"Hang on- oh never mind."

- And many others before they found who they where after. Oddly, probably because she had her glasses on her nose rather then on the top of her head for once, Amelia spotted it first and even though they weren't talking gave she gave Constance a wink and put a finger to her smiling lips before beckoning the other witch forward to follow her. This would have been more quietly executed and less ridiculous looking, Constance observed, if Amelia hadn't had her cloak tucked under one elbow and the bag of goodies swinging at the other. But still she complied, and oh so slowly approaching the semi closed curtains that housed 'Drill-Dubious, Imogen (mother)' with baby 'Unnamed ( male)'.

"-Such a little fighter." they heard the Canadian laugh, Unaware of the witches creeping up on them. "I think one day you're going to grow up to be daddy's special ice-hockey star."

"Rubbish I can see the England shirts now," his wife laughed also addressing her newborn and also oblivious to the jubilant pair now peeking though the curtains. "With the amount kicking going on inside of me, I reckon your going to be a world class footballer."

Imogen looked tired yet positively glowing in the pink pyjama's (probably the most girlish thing they'd ever seen her wear bar her wedding dress and Amelia guessed Constance had already made a mental note to tease her about it later!) and sat curled up on the bed, snuggled up to Serge, both grinning like goons and gazing lovingly, almost in awe, at bundle of joy in his arms, obscured from the witches by the blankets, completely innocent of being spied upon them, until Amelia let out a chuckle, making them both jump.

"Hello you two!" she smiled "well, three. I Hope we're not interrupting?"

"Miss Cackle!" Imogen exclaimed and, despite her obvious tiredness, quickly clambering off the bed to embrace the older woman, "No, no of course not-!"

"Old habits Imogen." the headmistress wheezed, unsure her self whether she meant the surname and formal address or the crushing bear hug.

"Oh! Sorry Amelia." Imogen blushed, releasing her. "It's just so great to see you again. And you Constance." she beamed, Giving the brunettes shoulder a squeeze in a friendly and kind gesture that would have once upon a time given at full strength probably left a fair bruise the woman's shoulder.

"Likewise." Miss Hardbroom replied, greeting the now standing Surge with a good afternoon before returning her attention back to Imogen, who'd stood back to let the witches draw closer in. "I must say you have been missed. It's been rather quiet at the academy with out you-"

"Cackles, quiet?" the gym teacher laughed. "I don't believe that for a minute. There's always something going on-"

"Normally something that shouldn't be." Surge chucked, while Imogen sat back onto the bed and scooting back to get comfortable.

"Let me go fetch you ladies some seats." He smiled, gently passing baby to mother with natural ease. "Would you want a drink or something to eat? The machines here are pretty awful but there's a little shop by reception do takeaway coffees and hot drinks."

"Oh no, don't trouble yourself Surge." Amelia smiled. "I'm sure we can sort ourselves out, can't we Constance?"

Constance obliged, literally drawing up two identical hospital chairs from thin air (one either side of the bed) and then also managed to conjure up a jug of water, four glasses and a vase to put the flowers in, all somehow with out any one else in the ward noticing, before Imogen and Amelia burst out laughing at Surges shocked expression. Constance on the other hand seemed less amused.

"Close you mouth please." she sniffed as Surge examined the water in a gob smacked manner. "There's no need sit there gawping at it, its just water." Surge did so, blushing guiltily like a school boy, probably made worse by the giggling school girl sat next to him.

"You know, Imogen." Amelia reminded her. "If my memory serves me correctly your reaction to magic was just as bad."

"Personally I thought that was just a reaction to young Fennella and Griselda -"

"Hey!" Imogen replied with smile. "Well, alright that might be true, Constance but he's known you for how long now? Not to mention the 'silent running' and disappearing stuff-"

"Alright, alright ladies." Surge grinned, obvious cottoning on to the fact he'd never live it down if this continued. "Pity you can't make the diapers disappear, Constance. That really would be magic."

This set them off laughing again, Imogen absent-mindly placing one hand on top the little ones own while Constance acknowledged the 'observational humour' with a roll of the eyes and mental count to three, doing her best to be courteous. The witch hoped it wouldn't turn into one of those convosaytions that started at nappies; and ended up on a theory of solving world peace with nothing more then a Charlie Chaplin film, lollypops and a penny farthing…

True given the fact Davina Bat was now retired and living in Inner-Outer Mongolia, the topics might not get that out of hand but one could never tell where a chat would lead.

thankfully though every ones full attention was suddenly grabbed by 'Little Surgie', who grabbed Imogen's finger and gurgled almost as if to say, "Oi aren't you forgetting something, you know, the Real reason your all here?"

"Oh sorry sweetie, were we ignoring you? Did you want to say hello too?" the blonde cooed, ignoring her partner trying not to laugh at the baby talk.

"Would you like to hold the little mite, Amelia?"

"May I?"

"Of coarse," Imogen beamed looking up and careful handed over the six and a half pounds of newborn to the elder witch who gleefully held the baby in an all most expert way as she had done when meeting various little nieces for the first time, and Parted the blankets a little more to revel the sweet pudgy features and short tufty covering of dark hair, (identical to Dubious colouring but naturally spiking and curled in a way that was distinctly the Drill genetics in amongst the rest, right down to the one lock of hair that already flicked out in the other direction.) Constance craned her neck to get a better look While Surge dug out a camera from his rucksack, proudly recording another moment when another person had held his very new and very special, pride and joy.

"Hello little one." Amelia cooed at the not even yet two-week old baby. "Oh now aren't you just delightful?"

Clad in a slightly to big blue baby grow emblazoned with green dinosaurs, it would have been hard to any one to disagree with Amelia's statement, partially as the little mite's face scrunched up and let out adorable yawn.

"Have you chosen a name yet?" Amelia asked tearing her eyes away from the babe. Imogen bit her lip and Surge suddenly found the wrist strap on his camera very interesting, looking much like a pair explaining why they hadn't done their homework.

"Well…"

"Sort of..."

"Sort of?" came the wry remark curtsey of Miss Hardbroom. "How can you have 'sort of' decided on a name?"

"Well, we have one in mind. But not officially yet."

"You'll have to make it official soon." Amelia chuckled. "before 'Little Surgie' sticks for good."

"Oh I hope not." Imogen sighed reaching over to stroke 'lickie Surgie's hair. "It's bad enough it stuck over the months. Your right of course But we'd hoped to name the little tyke after a family friend."

"Oh? So then why-"

"we'd like their grace first before we start telling everyone but no word as yet, so until then," Surge shrugged gesturing to the placard above the bed, identical to the one on the curtain, "'Unnamed' it is."

It seemed reasonable enough but Constance had her doubts about the fool proof plan.

"What if they don't approve? Or worse not allow it?" Imogen paused amount unsure of how to answer.

"Well I suppose if worse comes to the worse we did discuss a few others-"

"Easy we initiate plan B," Surge interrupted pulling a note book out of his day bag and holding it a loft. "And go to the list!"

"We have a list?" Imogen asked.

"We have a list," Surge grinned, then took in his wife's expression and lowered his arms. "Well, I do. Did. It was just a sort of a spur of the moment thing, you know. While I was um outside in the family room. I'd forgotten about it but I found it in my rucksack this morning."

"Go on then let's hear them," Amelia smiled kindly. Surge however had suddenly gone all shy.

"Come on, Superman what's the hold up?"

"We're all ears Surge."

"Obviously well I was thinking like Constance said, and I was just writing what ever came in too my head-" he babbled. "It's sort of random and we could always change the spelling, and I did write them last week so there a bit um-"

"Surge?" said Imogen in a rather serious tone. "What have you wrote…"

"Well," he swallowed and now rather embarrassed at being under the three women's scrutiny started reading out his list. "George, Daniel, Alexander, Junior -"

"No way." Imogen snorted. "I'm not naming our tiny little baby George-."

"Cameron, David, Nick,"

"Didn't really think those though did you?" Amelia interrupted with a grin.

"Mark, Declan, Antony, Samuel, Jack, Michael, john, Peter -"

"Smee? Hook? Pan?" Constance put in as he continued and the little daring in other witch's arms seemingly agreed with her letting out another cheeky little gurgle.

"They seemed better at the time." Surge blushed. "So I take it Junior is also out as well."

"Little Surgie's bad enough." Imogen groaned. "Let me have a look…oh pookie, your daddy is very silly…"

"hey Be fair were they were just the fist ones I could think of-" Surge complained trying once again defenceless from his wife's laughter as she held the papers up for Amelia to see who chucked and shook her head.

"Are they all like this?" Amelia asked.

"Some of them are alright aren't they?"

"Surge, I love you very much but…" Imogen giggled passing the book over to Constance. Her eye's quickly scanned the pages, eyebrow arched precision point.

"Apparently," she smirked. "That's a resounding no to plan B."

I shall call him Squishy and he shall be mine. He shall be my Squishy :D