"What do you mean we're changing plans?" Heron asked in a demanding voice.

The two were standing in the middle of a hallway, with Bradford holding under his arms a small stack of new books he bought. He was stopped by Black Heron, who had a question about what he expected to do once the chick would be out of their hands. It was something he had thought about more recently and it was a subject he wasn't sure yet how to discuss. But once the question was asked, the words seemed to have come out on their own.

He took a breath in to steady himself. "I mean to say that…perhaps we should reconsider our initial plans? Why go through the trouble of planting the child for 22 to take to Scrooge? The child could be an asset on our own terms-"

"So what, you're expecting us to play 'family' here, Bradford?" Heron raised her voice, becoming more irritated. "What, you think you're the kid's dad now just because you read some dumb books to it?"

Bradford was taken aback by the sudden words, words that had been subconsciously floating in his mind for some time now, and started to retract his statement. "What- no, no, of course- of course I'm not its-"

Heron threw her mechanical arm out in front of him, blocking his way out from the hallway, making him almost drop his books in fright.

"You're getting too close to it," she whispered dangerously, her pupils burning right into Bradford's frightened eyes. "You're forgetting the whole reason why we're doing this. This isn't a joy ride- not for you and especially not for me. I hate children. And I don't exactly want to 'welcome' a new member to the 'family'. We're getting rid of this kid as soon as we can, and that's all there is to it. End of discussion."

She started down the hallway again, leaving him frozen in place. He blinked a few times, then something in him tightened, his conviction returning in full.

"No," he stated clearly enough for her to hear from several feet away. She stopped in her tracks and turned, her long beak in a terrible grimace.

"What did you just say?" she growled, her metal hand squeezing into a fist.

But Bradford knew she wouldn't hurt him, not when there are other eggheads around to stop her at his command. He took a few steps towards her, his face not betraying any emotion.

"I said no. We will discuss this more fully in our next meeting. But know this, Heron. We may be equal partners in this, but I am still your director. I am still your superior in many ways. Whatever I order, we execute. And I say that we will get much more use out of this child if we have it working for our needs, instead of working against us. It'd be easier for us too."

She relaxed her arm, then a grim smile overtook her. "Hmph. You are getting better at this villainous thing…too bad it has to do with a baby though, of all things." She sighed in annoyance, then asked, "And what if, one day, it finds out about the plans we have for it? You said it can't know why it was made in the first place. What about that? And how can it learn more about Scrooge if it won't grow up near him? You went on a whole tirade about that-"

He held up his free hand to stop her. "All in due time. We'll figure it out as the need for it comes up. We'll also need to discuss what role you will have throughout this process. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

He walked past her towards the laboratory, a dumbfounded look on her face as she watched him pass. All he wanted to do was just to get away from her gaze until the meeting, where he'll be more prepared to answer her questions and feel more secure in his thoughts.

Behind him, he heard her take a sharp intake of air. "Wait, I'm not going to be the mother, am I?! Is this all because I gave that egg…wait. Bradford! Answer me, damn you!"

He rolled his eyes. Playing family. Preposterous. Family meant nothing to him. He barely even had one, and the only true "family" he did know barely meant anything to him at all. Family was nothing more than a nuisance, something that held back people from reaching their true potential.

And him, a father? Even more laughable. This child wasn't his and never will be. What did he know about being one anyways, seeing as he barely even remembered his own father. As the director of FOWL and the main instigator of Project 87, all he was doing was making sure the development of the clone was going as smoothly as possible. Visiting it, talking to it, spending his day with it…smiling at it…reading stories to it…

Bradford's hand stopped abruptly at the knob of his office, his eyes huge. Was he getting too close? He never even thought of this until Heron brought it up. Even beyond his total control, beyond his well laid plans, he found himself suddenly feeling helpless from his own actions.

Why was he feeling this way? Why did he want to keep returning to that lab even for unplanned visits? What made him stay for so long and keep talking to the child? Why did he want to be near it for so long, the hours passing by within seconds, wanting nothing more than to stay with it until it hatched and then for months and years long afterwards?

Maybe he should call off the whole thing and go by the original plans again. Have the child be found by 22. Have it be raised under SHUSH's guidance. Maybe it'll be happier with Bentina. Maybe it'd be better for the child to not have known him and FOWL. Better to not be close to him, to not know its true origin until the time came. Better to not have known him at all.

He raised his hand and slapped himself. His mind refreshed as he shook his head from the sharp sting.

He will make this work. However it'd be done, he'll have this work the way he wanted it to. All he needed was time and patience to convince Heron of the same.

He opened the door and slunk into his study with a new determination. He'll make this work, he has to, for the child's sake and his.