GigiandMad- Haha Rowan's probably mad from being Death's partner!

VioletDawn0- Thanks ^^ and I like long reviews :3

Imaginefun- XD Fantastically ironic!

FilthyTricksyHobbitses- Haha you got it

Confetti108- Part of your questions will be answered in this chapter!

So close to 100! Ah, I'm so excited! Onto the story!

He kept his arms folded, absentmindedly looking out the bay window of his home. It was August, the days dry and hot. Most of the people were outside, enjoying the sunny day. Not him; he remained home, thinking of that wavelength he felt two months ago.

It was constantly there and it never actually entered the city. Instead, it probed around the edge of his soul, as though getting a feel of just how large his soul was. It was both irritating and stressful to him; he wished it would just enter the city so he could deal with it. He knew who the wavelength belonged to; a fellow Shinigami. He just didn't know what she wanted.

Death sighed heavily through his nose. This was so like his sister. She wanted him to go to her, but, judging by the way she skittishly remained on the outskirts, knew he couldn't.

"Death?" He turned around to see Ophelia standing in the doorway, looking at him with concern. "Are you okay? You've been staring out that window since this morning."

"I'm fine," he lied, "I just don't know what to do with myself since the children are all out on summer break."

She went over to him and rested her hand on his arm, smiling reassuringly at him. "I know that's a partial truth. You've been acting odd for the past two months. Did you sense something?"

He smiled fondly down at her. "You're too preceptive for your own good. I did sense something, and have for a while now. I believe it is my sister."

"Really?" She stiffened slightly and frowned. "What could she want?"

Death shrugged. "I can only wait for her to venture into the city to see me. I'm not sure if it's a good sign that she only probes the very edge of my soul; it could mean she's analyzing me."

Ophelia hummed her response and dropped her hand from his arm. "I think she's nervous."

He looked down at her, an eyebrow raised. "'Nervous?' Miata isn't the kind to-"

"Let me explain," she gently interrupted, "what I mean. You haven't seen her in a very long time, right?"

He nodded his confirmation. "Maybe she thinks you don't want to see her, but she wants to see you. So, she's hanging back until she gets enough courage to come into the city."

He highly doubted her explanation, but agreed nonetheless. "Yes, that makes sense. That must be it."

Still...perhaps I should send one of my Scythes out to find her and bring her to me. She may just be waiting for an "invitation."

"I went to the Doctor's today." Ophelia suddenly said.

He looked down at her, noticing her demeanor change. She was looking shyly at the ground and her hands pressed themselves against her stomach. She had been feeling ill in the morning, but felt fine in the afternoon. Death wasn't sure what it was, but she seemed to know. She only wanted affirmation from a professional.

"What did he say?" His mouth was very dry then, watching her hands.

"I'm two months pregnant." She looked up, scrutinizing his expression very carefully.

His face went white, his scar standing out more than usual. His eyes were wide as he stared at her stomach incredulously. "I'm going to be a father?"

She nodded her head excitedly. "And I'm going to be a mother!"

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, her soft hair tickling his skin.

"A father...I'm going to be a father." He muttered.

Ophelia laughed and pulled away from him. "I'm going to have to go to the Doctor's again soon He needs to make sure our baby is growing alright."

Death nodded dumbly, eyes still on her stomach. I have another person I must protect now. This changes a lot of things, now. I still don't know what Miata is doing here and if she is here to cause trouble, I need to get rid of her quickly.

"Ophelia, why don't you go rest? I have some business I need to attend to." He gently ushered her to the door.

"I'm not that delicate yet." She argued, but went down the hall to their room anyway.

Death grabbed his mask from the table he had placed it on, sliding it over his face. He turned toward the full length mirror in the corner of the room and went over to it. When he was a foot away, he murmured, "Cole."

The reflection shivered and an older man appeared, saluting him. "Yes, Lord Death?"

"I have detected a soul on the outskirts of the city. The last time I felt it two hours ago, it was to the western side. I would like for you to 'welcome' our guest and bring them to Gallows Manor." He ordered.

Cole saluted him once more. "Roger that, sir!"

His reflection disappeared and Death exited his library, heading to his room.

If she planned on coming into the city soon, she shouldn't put up a fight. But, if she does...the outcome could be catastrophic. He peeked into the bedroom.

Ophelia was sitting beside the bed, reading one of his books. Her legs were crossed and he could see her foot wiggling as she read. She had her hair pulled up into a bun, a few stray hairs brushing against her cheek. She looked up and raised a brow.

"Why do you have your mask on?" She asked.

He went over to her and placed his hand on her cheek, tucking a strand behind her ear. "I sent one of my Scythes out to retrieve Miata, if it is her. He's going to bring her here for me to speak with her. I am going to take her to the library; don't leave the bedroom. Close the door and don't come out until I get you."

Her eyes filled with worry. "Do you really think she's going to do something?"

"I'm not sure, but better to be safe than sorry. I am not going to let her hurt my wife and child." The wavelength abruptly flared and he shuddered as he felt it pass through his soul. It was the most intrusive, unpleasant sensation he had ever felt.

He withdrew his hand and straightened up. "She's in the city now. Remember what I said."

Death left the room, closing the door behind him. He walked down the hall to the front door. The wavelengths were getting closer and he barely felt Cole's. The wavelengths, though familiar, felt bitter and heavy as they continuously washed over him. He paused in front of the door. They were directly outside now. With a deep breath, he opened the door and kept his voice as light and cheery as he could.

"Hiya, sis! Long time no see! How ya doing~?!" He chirped from the doorway. He didn't dare get closer.

His sister, now that he remembered, had always been partial to armor and had not changed her taste. Her armor now, though, was much different than her armor then. This armor was as black as midnight and clung to her svelte frame. It looked light, easy to move in, something was a necessity for her. Her boots were flat and just as black as her armor. They, too, were guarded. The mask she wore was that of their father's, or at least it was similar in design. It was frightening to look at, made of real bone, the teeth sharpened to points. The eye sockets glowed red, bright as a ruby. A black hood seemed to hold the mask in place.

"Unnecessary." She stated, her voice cold and low.

"I apologize, but I cannot leave the city, otherwise I would have gotten you myself." He apologized, bowing low at the waist to his older sister.

She grunted and walked toward him. He straightened up and looked at Cole. "Thank you; you are dismissed."

Cole saluted and quickly descended down the steps. Death let his sister past him, repressing the urge to flinch when her cold armor brushed his arm. He closed the door and turned to face her, subtly scanning his sister to see if she had any weapons on her, mildly surprised to see that she didn't.

She was looking around the foyer, pausing to look at the painting of him and Ophelia on their wedding. He swallowed loudly when she remained fixated on it.

"S-so" he cursed the stutter, "shall we remove our masks? We are alone."

She turned to him expectantly and he took the hint, removing his mask. She lowered her hood and removed her own mask. Her atramentous hair reached her hips, her bangs covering her eyes. A single, pristine, white Line of Sanzu wrapped around her head. Her pale lips were pressed in a firm line and he cringed. He instinctively knew she did that when she was displeased. She gestured to the painting.

"Don't lie." She warned immediately, sensing him racking his brain to come up with a plausible calumny.

"My wife." He admitted. "She won't be joining us this afternoon.

Miata's lips twitched as though she was about to smile. "You don't trust me."

Death laughed humorously. "You've never given me a reason not to. No, I wanted to speak to you privately. It's been a long time."

She was suddenly directly in front of him, a full smirk teasing her lips. "You're an awful liar. You don't trust me. You sense my bloodlust, don't you?"

His eyes narrowed, feeling her shadow beginning to wind up his legs. Despite the obvious danger, he demanded, "Why are you here, Miata? If I don't like your answer, I won't hesitate to kill you. I will protect my wife and city, even if you are my opponent."

Her shadow dug sharply into his back and her smirk widened. "Why don't you tell me, O Favored One?"