AU: Hey everybody! I didn't feel like Mark and Abby's story should have ended so soon, so I wrote a sort-of epilogue. I hope you guys enjoy it!

December 1969.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"Mark, this type of thing happens every day, all around the world. I'll be just fine," Abby said as she walked (more like waddled) to their now shared room. She grimaced as a wave of pain washed over her, and breathed heavily. It lasted for just a few short moments, but it was more painful than listening to Kevin sing. When it was over, she ran her hands over the swell of her stomach affectionately. "Wow. This little one really wants to get out of there."

"But you're sure you don't want me to be in there with you?" Mark asked worriedly. He'd been on edge for the past two months. Actually, he'd been on edge since he found out Abby was pregnant. And now that delivery day had finally come, he wondered where the last year had gone.

Abby was two months along when she told him the news. She had expected him to turn pale and make a run for it, but he immediately took her in his arms and swung her about (which, in hindsight, was a bad idea because of Abby's morning sickness) and told her how happy he was.

"I'm sure. Besides, Felicity will be in there with me. I won't be alone." She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.

He sighed as he placed his hands on her belly. "I still can't believe that I'm going to be a father. I never thought it would happen to me. I mean, I'm not exactly the 'dad' type, given my reputation."

"You'll make an amazing father. And screw your reputation! You deserve to be happy." She gripped his shoulders as a contraction overcame her once again. He winced at the pain in his shoulders, but it was nothing compared to the anguish he felt as he helplessly watched Abby grit her teeth and pinch her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to pass.

"I'm sorry I did this to you," Mark took her hand in his and squeezed it, trying to be comforting. "And I'm sorry I couldn't be someone else. The father of your baby should be someone mature and with a steady job, ready to take you home to a big, warm house when all of this is over. And you should be giving birth in a hospital, instead of a doctor having to come here..."

"Mark, I swear to God, if I hear you complain one more time, I will toss you overboard into the freezing cold ocean and leave you out there until the baby is born. I have too much to worry about right now than to keep reassuring you that this is what I want. You are what I want." She tapped him lightly on the cheek. "Now shut up and remember that I. Love. You."

Mark couldn't help but chuckle at her. She was about to give birth, she could barely move without being in pain and she was still ordering him around. That was his Abby. He walked her to the bed and helped her down carefully.

"I'll just be in the dining room," he assured her. She smiled at him and brought his hand to her face and kissed the silver ring that newly adorned his left hand.

"Sure thing, hubby."

That's another thing that happened. As soon as they had told everyone that they were having a baby, Abby and Mark were greeted with congratulations and good wishes from all around. The Count, however, sat silently in a corner with what seemed like a scowl on his face.

"Do you have something you'd like to say?" Quentin asked the Count as the rest of the group stood in silence, waiting for what would happen next. The Count stood and walked to the window, still not saying a word.

"Dad?" Abby's voice pleaded. He turned to her with tears in his eyes and a small smile tugging at his mouth.

"My baby is having a baby." He opened his arms and Abby ran into his embrace, laughing. When he let her go, he turned to Mark. "You know you've gotta marry her now, right?"

"Dad!" Abby scolded.

"No daughter of mine is having a baby without getting hitched. When your mom told me she was pregnant, I did the right thing." He moved to stand in front of Mark, who had stood watching everything from behind his dark sunglasses. "What about you? Are you gonna make an honest woman of my daughter?"

Mark smiled and took off his sunglasses. "If I have your permission, I'd like to ask her right now."

Count's mouth dropped open. "You would?"

"He would?" Angus parroted. He anxiously looked to the surprised faces of the other deejays.

"I was going to ask her eventually." He walked to Abby and removed his favourite ring from his hand.

"Holy hell, he's really gonna do it!" Simon squealed. Mark laughed over his shoulder before turning his full attention on Abby.

"I'm not going to kneel, because that would be too corny. And I'm not going to tell you how beautiful you are, because I tell you that all the time. What I will tell you is how much I love you and I will never stop loving you until the day I die from God-knows-what. I still can't believe I'm saying this, but there's nothing in this world that would make me happier than knowing that you're there beside me forever. And hopefully you won't mind having a few more babies, because the thought of us being a family is nearly making my heart explode with love for you." He held the ring between their faces and smiled as he looked deep into Abby's eyes. "So?"

Abby gaped at him, her mouth hanging open. When she finally spoke, a whisper came out so low, only Mark could hear her.

"I don't know whether to hit you and make you propose properly, or have sex with you right here in front of everybody." Mark smiled at her as he took her left hand and placed the ring on her ring finger.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then?"

"You bet your ass it's a 'yes'!" Abby shouted and threw her arms around his neck and nearly cut off his breathing while he swung her around for the second time that day. Cheers came from behind them as Felicity appeared with a tray of champagne glasses filled with beer and one filled with ginger ale for Abby.

"It's the best I could do on short notice," she said as she swerved in between the men. They drank and laughed until dawn came, celebrating the fact that Midnight Mark had finally been caught.

Two weeks later Mark and Abby were married.

It was a small ceremony; Rita and Ted managed to make it, along with Simon's fiancée (he had been seeing the woman who rescued him when the boat sank and finally gathered the courage to ask her) and Margaret. Felicity was the maid of honour, and Marianne was delighted to be a bridesmaid, while Mark had chosen Carl to be a groomsman and Gavin as the best man. Quentin performed the ceremony, as he did with Simon and Elenore, but seemed to be more serious this time, probably because there was no radio audience to play up to. Since then, Abby and Mark's lives had been nothing but bliss.

Mark made his way shakily to the dining room, where the other men were gathered. He had never seen them so tense; it was as if they were the ones expecting their baby to be born. Even Quentin sat at the table, a glass of brandy in his hand and smoking a pipe absently. Dave walked up to Mark and held out a bottle of whiskey.

"You look like you need this, mate." Mark hesitated before hearing a faint shout echoing through the boat. He cringed and took the whole bottle.

"Thanks." The Count went to him and put his arms around his shoulders in sympathy.

"Abby's a tough girl, don't worry. If she's anything like her mom, she'll be fine. I remember the day Abby was born; I never felt so useless in my entire life. That's gotta be the worst part. You know that the reason why she's in pain is because of you, but there's not a damn thing you can do about it." He took the bottle from Mark's hands and gulped some whiskey down to calm his nerves. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and smiled. "But I'll tell ya, it's all worth it in the end."

The next eight hours were complete agony for Mark. Dead silence hung in the room, except for the occasional "Oh, god!" that resonated from the other side of the boat. He thought that he would pass out before the whole thing was finally over.

He hadn't realized how still he had been sitting until the door burst open with a bang and Felicity danced into the room.

"Congratulations, Daddy!" she shouted happily as she stood in front of him. Mark shot up so fast that his head spun a little and he had difficulty keeping his balance.

"Abby? How is she?"

"She's just fine. Tired, obviously, but I don't think I've seen her smile so much." Felicity hummed happily as Mark made a dash for the door, but he stopped when he realized he forgot to ask her something else.

"The baby?"

"Also fine. No worries at all. She's a gorgeous little girl, Mark."

"A girl," he breathed as he swayed on his feet turning to hug Felicity and then the Count. "A baby girl!"

"Go! Go see her!" Count yelled. "And give my daughter a kiss for me!"

Mark's steps slowed as he neared the bedroom and he stopped just as he was about to open the door. A million thoughts raced through his mind all at once, and he couldn't find the will to move from his spot.

I'm a father.

I'm a father?

There's a baby in there. With half of my DNA.

I'm a married man, with a daughter.

Christ, what's happened?

He was still trying to get his thoughts in check when a baby's wail silenced everything. It shook him out of his trance and he grasped the handle and opened the door, but the way inside was blocked by Dr Maddox.

"Ah, Mark, my lad. Congratulations!" The stout, grey-haired man adjusted his tie and looked behind him. "She's fallen asleep, the poor thing. No one said having a baby was easy, but she pulled through. Make sure she gets as much rest as possible for the next three days or so." He looked behind him once more. "They're the loveliest pair I've ever seen." With a quick nod, he ushered Mark inside and closed the door behind him when he left.

The room was eerily quiet, with the only sound being Abby's soft breathing. As he inched closer to the bed, he saw Abby, still with the glow of sweat covering her, sleeping soundly. The baby was in the small bassinet he had ordered for her; a large white one made entirely of wicker and covered generously with white ribbons and gigantic white bows. Abby hated the garish thing, but they had no time to order another one. He peered into the bassinet and saw a tiny face staring straight back up at him.

Mark was sure his heart stopped beating.

The baby, his daughter, looked up at him with large blue eyes and puckered her lips. Her head was covered in dark fuzz and her face was pink. Her arms had escaped from the blanket she was swaddled in and she waved her arms about in the air while he examined her tiny hands and fingers, taking in the details of her delicate little fingernails. She squealed at him, and he found himself reaching into the bassinet and holding her so she was level with his own face. He stared at her for a moment longer before cradling her against his chest, where she nuzzled her face against him, trying to get comfortable until she let out a yawn and starting drifting off to sleep.

Mark couldn't take his eyes off of her; every movement and every sound she made vibrated through his entire body, reminding him that he was holding his flesh and blood in his arms. He and Abby had created the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life.

"My little darling," he whispered to her, running a finger gently down her soft pink cheek, "I've never loved anything as much as I love you right now." He moved to her tiny hand and traced her tiny fingers, until she gripped his finger and held it. Mark inhaled shakily, afraid to give way to the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes at any moment.

"Does she look like you or me?"

Mark turned his head at Abby's soft voice and saw her smiling at him sleepily. He moved to sit beside her against the pillows, clutching their daughter to him tightly. He kissed her forehead lovingly before turning his attention back to the baby.

"She looks like you, I think."

"She's got your eyes though...and your nose." Abby laughed softly as the baby squirmed and settled deeper into Mark's chest. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"You're beautiful," he said as he kissed her upturned face. "Thank you for this wonderful gift."

"You had some part in it too, so thank you." She snuggled into his shoulder and stared at the baby. "She needs a name. Do you have any ideas?"

"Well, your dad had said that he wanted our first born to be named after him, so...I guess I get to finally learn the Count's real name."

"There's no way I'm naming our daughter Antonia."

Mark smirked. "Your dad's name is Anthony?"

"Don't tell him I told you." Abby's eyebrows came together in thought. "How about Elizabeth? After your mother?"

Mark smiled warmly into Abby's eyes at her suggestion. "Have I told you I love you yet?" He leaned his head to hers so they could share a kiss before nuzzling his nose against his daughter's, smiling when she rubbed her face in irritation. "Our little Lizzie. Maybe we can name the next one after the Count."

Abby sat up and gave him a quizzical look. "Just how many are you expecting?"

"A whole lot; and they'll have the best babysitters the world could ask for." He paused before adding, "We'll have to make sure Kevin isn't one of them."

Abby sighed and dramatically pressed her hand against her forehead. "Can I have a bit of a break before we give Lizzie a brother or sister?"

"Of course, love." He kissed her forehead and placed Lizzie in between them. Abby took Mark's hand in hers and placed it on top of their daughter.

"Welcome to our family, Lizzie. You're in for the adventure of a lifetime."