Often times, huge, partially crushed tarantulas could be found among Aunt Hazel's fruit, it was hard to avoid in the Caribbean. But even if they were already dead as a doornail in most cases, Jack always lost his appetite for good.

Too many legs were like too many tentacles … And he'd truly seen too much of those shortly before his death by Jones' pet …

Today, though, he'd probably end up eating even the tarantulas or pulpos themselves, if only he could finally take a bite off something.

The brief interlude with the two worst swordsmen beyond hell had not been particularly dangerous, yet it didn't help his hunger either.

"I can't believe I'm seeing right!"

He'd hardly expected Hazel's greeting to be any different.

"Jackie?" She really couldn't believe her eyes, she even looked up from cleaning her weapons for a moment. "Is it truly you?"

"In the flesh – as I live and breathe, Aunt Hazel," he called over to her counter and continued to stroll through her shop's rows. "You don't look a day older!" Much more quietly and to himself he mumbled, "Because even then you looked prehistoric …"

She didn't hear as well as years ago, but she would always suspect the worst. It was probably what now caused her to come out from behind her counter – unusual – and slowly walk towards him as though he were a ghost.

"Fancy pearls," he praised, pointing to her necklace while she just stared at him. "Loot?"

"Inherited from Grandmama," she replied in a well befuddled manner, not even complaining that he'd already grabbed a green apple and taken a bite.

The mere mention of the old witch, however, was enough for him to have a body reaction. His brows went up to the heavens.

"I heard," he mumbled eating and went on a little further, but closely followed by Hazel, "the devil got her quite soon after I cut myself off her … gushy … love."

"You broke her heart," Hazel confirmed, crossing her arms over her chest as she went in front of him to block his way. "On her deathbed she was still calling you her darling …"

"Aye, that's also what she used to say when she threw pitchers and flotsam after me. Playing tag, she'd call it … I caught a few times – with my collarbone. Oh, and once with my larynx."

Intuitively, he grabbed his neck.
Uncomfortable …

"She also used to play that with me when I was a kid." Hazel shrugged. "We lived, didn't we."

"Oh well, who even cares about broken ribs," Jack retorted with a gloomy smile.

"She just couldn't show us her affection any other way."

"And for that, may her soul burn in the deepest circle of hell," he finally said, frowning when he tried to push past Hazel in vain.

"Jackie, don't say that. Take it back!"

This family was simply insane …

"I certainly won't."

Yet he didn't have to look any further. He already saw what he was after. Right next to him there was a dark shelf with all kinds of supposedly edible, curious contents that didn't do him much good at the moment, but he certainly found what he was looking for in the basket next to it and proceeded to pocket two bananas away.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He looked back over his shoulder and shrugged. "We're family, aren't we? There's gotta be something in it for me being related to you people, too, savvy? Neither of us chose it, but today it surely means that we … share things like bananas."

She was quite indifferent to him insulting her dead mother, but when it came to money, all the fun was over. Faster than he could even look, Hazel tugged him close towards her at his coat collar.

At such near sight, the old lady's beard was almost denser than his own, and of nothing else he could think while she berated him with every curse that came to mind. As though he were thirteen years old again and standing in the way.

"You need to be thankful I'm not skinning you already! I won't share a bloody thing with you! You –"

All at once she listened up. Even if she had always pretended to be almost deaf – now a sound did irritate her.

And if it irritated her, it had better irritate Jack, too. He listened just as inclined, it seemed like a grinding on the floor, almost as though something was scurrying past Hazel and him behind a few rows of shelves.

They exchanged a fairly indecisive glance, but when dead silence promptly reigned again, they both shrugged and decided it must have been nothing.

"Anyway," Jack cleared his throat, "how can you be so small-minded as to insist on two bananas when your own family is standing right in front of you?"

"I could ask you the same! Just pay for them!"

But when he suddenly felt something like a touch on the middle of his body, the old familiar paranoia immediately overcame him.

"Tarantula!"

It was like a reflex, he pushed Hazel off him and brushed his hands frantically along his body, scanning himself, only then he soon breathed a sigh of relief.

"False alert, it's fine," he gasped, "no tarantula in sight …"

"I have them here all the time," Hazel admitted. "I don't mind them anymore."

"I'm glad at least you take it so well, Auntie," Jack replied with obvious disinterest, only to then smile with all his charisma again. "Do you have biscuits here, by any chance?"

"Are you planning on paying for them?"

Jack immediately groaned and put his hands on his hips. "Hazel, you stingy beast, I was last here when I was a kid, how can you not –"

"Likewise, I could say you didn't show your face for decades and then you only come here to be fed!"

"What else would I come here for?" he asked. "Good company?"

"Sure, and more of it to come," she growled, gesturing out the door, "see, real customers are here in a second and then we won't have to put up with each other on our own any longer!"

It could have been the start of an argument typical for their family, but as a brisk glance out the shop door also revealed to Jack that he was about to have much bigger problems thanks to said customers.

The shipbuilder and Brannigan were heading straight for the shop – and they were not alone. Another man had joined them and seemed terribly angry, even if Jack couldn't for the life of him remember what the hell he might have done for him to consider this an opportune moment for revenge as well.

"If anything breaks in your shop, Auntie," Jack began, giving Hazel the smile of a saint, "you'll only have to thank your real customers, savvy?"

"What do you mean?"

That she saw for herself straight away, he didn't even need to elaborate on it. Antoine and Ace immediately continued in her shop what they had started at the harbour – and the newcomer joined their petty little fight with fervour.

Three parallel opponents tired him out more than Jack wanted to admit. Especially as his arms were still strained from all the rowing … And he hadn't even been able to eat his apple yet.

So much for Fortuna …

"No fighting in my shop!" Hazel roared as metal clanged on metal. "I'll shoot you, the four of you!"

Jack quite believed that she intended to do so, and three times out of four he wouldn't have cared, but unfortunately, after all, he himself had interrupted her from cleaning her firearms. And so, although her pistols were now lying on the counter, they were by no means ready for use.

Still they made for good projectiles when thrown. Jack immediately made use of that when Antoine and the other vultures chased him across the shop.
The counter now also offered the nice possibility of elevation and fencing down from above – with a light foot, Jack leapt onto the old wood, something the meaty Antoine could only dream of.

Of Brannigan's sword he could take care from up there, too – a well-aimed kick and the old miser had to search the flight line for his even older sword.

And he kept searching for an oddly long time, but Jack's pity was limited as he continued to deal with the shipbuilder as well as the other man.

He also couldn't have guessed that three children who'd followed him had joined him like shadows, sneaking past him and Hazel, and were now secretly hiding Brannigan's sword. It wasn't easy, but they stifled a laugh while Ace crawled around on the floor and could hardly believe that the oh-so-precious blade was gone. He simply did not want to afford a new one …

Meanwhile, Aunt Hazel had joined the fight. Not because she wanted to help Jack, no, she still had a bone to pick with him – but at least he, agile as he was, smashed considerably less goods than the fat lump from the harbour.
Unfortunately, at her advanced age, she no longer had the strength to put up with the huge man, her nephew had to take care of him. But at least she made an effort to knock out the other man, who'd just kicked over a basket of her loose paprika and pepper powder.

The ochre mist that subsequently clouded the air for a moment made them all snort and cough – and actually, the sneeze of one of the hidden children from the other corner of the shop should probably have been noticed, too, but apart from Ace, no one caught that.

Hazel's preferred weapons could not be in use, but she also liked to collect empty bottles under the counter for her lousy moonshine. And so, at the first opportunity, brown glass shattered on the head of the fellow who had just so brazenly polluted her airways.

"Good blow!" Jack shouted over to her, but she would've loved to shoot him for it. As though the impudent youth had not expected such efficiency for her age …

The very next moment, even Antoine paused for a heartbeat. For they heard Brannigan yelp, and then it was perfectly silent again. They couldn't see him, but as luck would have it, he was probably still crawling around on the floor below the shelves in attempts to find his sword.

"He'll be fine," Jack mumbled to Antoine, who himself nodded stoutly.

Just for them to continue the very next moment.

Albeit at a slower pace. Antoine was completely out of breath again.

"Are you sure we don't want to save ourselves the trouble and the fencing circus?" Jack asked the unhealthily red shipbuilder on this favourable occasion, purely out of interest. "You look like you're about to burst. And I'd honestly rather keep eating my apple, you have no idea how hungry I am. We could just skip the tango, aye?"

"You'd like that, sure!" With a shaky arm and energized by renewed hatred, Antoine raised his sword again, but Jack finally ran out of patience.

So he simply drew his pistol with a sigh – something that promptly made Antoine recoil with his hands raised.

"Nobody else but me shoots inside!" Hazel croaked.

"Tony, you heard the lady …"

Jack jumped from the counter, pushing his luck a little further, as he so very often did, then he forced the shipbuilder to move out the back door of the shop.

Outside, the view was immediately back to glistening turquoise water and white sand, many a barrel and Hazel's crates – wonderfully fading away with the sight of the ocean. It almost seemed like the most beautiful place in the world – if only there was less family here …

"Nice and easy, just like that," Jack placated his pursuer. "We'll settle this little dispute of ours now, mate, because I really want that apple."

Antoine's gaze darkened, but there was not much left for him to do but continue to back away with his hands up. "Sparrow, you mangy canaille -"

"Ah, my friend, better not use words you couldn't spell in writing. But let us examine your claims for a moment, shall we?"

"You stole my vessel!"

"It was a sad fishing boat that had been rotting in the harbour for ages – and may I remind you that theft is time-barred? How much time has passed, thirty years?"

"I don't care!" Antoine growled. "That boat was the first one I ever built!"

"Got you, that's why the railing was so lopsided," Jack muttered as if in thought. Then he looked up again and gave Antoine an apologetic smile. "No, really, great first work … Tell me, what would compensate you adequately after all these years?" He raised the firearm a little higher. "If I didn't shoot you, perhaps?"

"Like you'd do that …" Antoine said it with fervour, yet uncertainty was evident on his face. "You're not like Teague."

Jack smirked, and just as he was about to take the safety off, he remembered that he had no bullet left in his raised pistol. He had two for situations like this, of course, since that principle-based issue with Barbossa had been settled, but still … He was probably indeed the worst pirate James Norrington had ever heard of.

"Just give me a second, Antoine," he casually said, stowing away the useless pistol and quickly reaching for the second one, also intending to take off the safety.

But no – it had no trigger at all.
And it felt … ridiculously light.
Also ridiculously … carved, now that he looked at it more closely. But at least it was deceptively well painted. Really pretty.

Similarly confused as Antoine, he stared at the child's toy in his hand.
How misfortunate …

"Very convincing," Antoine hummed as it dawned on him. "There's no shot left in the other one, is there?"

"Oh there sure is, but … I'd rather not threaten you any longer because we were just about to come to an agreement," Jack claimed, trying to keep his voice as truthful as possible.

"I'm going to break your neck now," the shipbuilder announced, already approaching him with utmost satisfaction.

"We were having such a nice conversation just now …"

"With my bare hands I'm going to break your neck, ever so slowly –"

Someone pulled a trigger, right behind them.
The muffled sound made both Jack and Antoine pause. And the latter also promptly saw a pistol pointed at him.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Antoine."

None other than Tara Sullivan spoke these words, and she held the pistol in her hand that Jack would have loved to use instead of a toy.

This thought – this sight – was therefore utterly absurd. So much so that he blinked in disbelief like Hazel earlier, he could hardly trust his eyes.

All over the world he'd been searching for her, and here she was? Now, here, today?
As if no time had passed at all.

"Tara?"

She could theoretically be a Fata Morgana. The hunger and his back pain were possibly just driving him crazy. However, she looked pretty real … Damn beautiful and pretty real.

And without further ado, he decided that she was – simply because he wanted her to be so much.

"Tara! Look at you! I can't believe you're here of all places! Love, I've been looking for you everywhere, I –"

"Shut it!" she whispered and now began pointing the barrel of his own weapon at him. Her fierce look and that turn of events were not exactly what he'd have expected in response to his extremely friendly greeting – but then again, it actually made sense.

"Interesting," they promptly heard Antoine comment.

Jack gestured to the shipbuilder without taking his eyes off Tara. "I'll have to agree with him on that one."

"I simply cannot allow Antoine to kill you with his bare hands because I want to be the one doing it!"

"Oh." Jack gave a half-smile. "Then I must've misinterpreted your initially kind interference in my favour …"

"So it seems."

She didn't lower the pistol and continued to point it at him, but now she walked straight up to Antoine to thrust a leather pouch full of coins into his hand.

"Sweetness …" Jack blinked. Dumbfounded. "What are you doing?"

"Will this be enough?" she asked Antoine, completely ignoring the other one.

The one that now screwed up his face in agony as the shipbuilder examined the jingling little bag, already satisfied.

"Completely unnecessary," Jack called to the two of them, "any debt of mine has long since expired!"

She shook her head and gave him her dirtiest look. "It's a shame you're still like that after all this time, you know that? What was I thinking, getting involved with someone I met begging –"

"You're completely misrepresenting that, love, what will Antoine think of me? It wasn't begging at all, merely negotiating, as I'd just gotten off the ship –"

"You're always just off the ship!"

Jack sighed, smirking. He'd hoped she hadn't changed. Their arguments had always been way too entertaining to avoid them …

"Thank you, Tara, it's a bit too much," Antoine purred after his examination, suddenly as tame as a kitten, and already beginning to fish coins out of her bag.

"No, no, keep it," she interrupted him, "the rest is for your troubles –"

"For his troubles!" Jack echoed. "His troubles? What troubles? Trying to kill me and –"

"Silent as the grave!" Tara hissed. "Could you be just that? Only once, will you?"

Antoine was already tapping his imaginary hat in delight. "Let me know if you want me to murder him for you after all."

She didn't take her eyes off Jack, even when Antoine went his way again. He trudged back through the fine sand towards the harbour, humming as if nothing had ever happened. And the ensuing silence she'd been asking for, like a big bang, formed a vacuum.

"You're just standing there?" she soon asked. "Just … like that?"

"Should I be floating? Just asking for advice here. I wish to act right as you're obviously still threatening me with a bullet."

She inched closer, with her the pistol. She was clearly outraged. "No pompous posturing? No exalted sailing before an orange horizon?"

"Far too much fuss, darling, I wanted to go unnoticed and –"

"How on earth was that supposed to work?" she shouted. "You're the biggest troublemaker on the Seven Seas whose face is printed under an exorbitantly high bounty on every other wanted poster in the Caribbean!"

"Everyone here in the Cove has those posters, and it was worth a try –"

"A try? You got chased all over town because of ancient debts!"

She was screaming by now, yet he still displayed this crazy euphoria on his face.

"I'm so happy to see you again! What a most fortunate meeting this is. Tara, seriously, I can't even begin to tell you how –"

"Mamá?"

Quite tentatively, a girl and a boy had said it almost at the same time.

And it took Tara's breath away, her heart rate immediately soared. Why on earth were they out here? She had hoped to experience this moment at all cost, at the same time she'd wanted to avoid it so much – and now there she was, standing in the Caribbean sand with a pistol in her hand pointed directly at the father of her children. The wave of all those contradictions broke right over her.

Of course she had always tried to imagine how such a reunion would look like. Of course she'd thought that she hated him as much as she still loved him, and that it'd be thrilling to see which feeling would finally prevail if he ever stood in front of her again.

And now he did.
And she actually wanted to shoot him …

Maybe also because Sparrow was so thoroughly cheerful and surprised at the sight of the children. There they still were, peeking out of Hazel's back door visibly indecisive.

"Who do we have here?" Jack eventually asked. "Mamá?" He looked at Tara, almost a little wistfully. "I had a feeling you'd already have kids. You got married years ago, haven't you? And you have pretty children with an honourable man –"

"Honourable?" she interrupted him. "Don't be ridiculous!" Her frenzied rage suited her terribly well, and it also apparently caused her to wake up from her reveries. "Hazel!" she shouted right into the shop. "I only had one request! Keep the children in, is that so hard?"

It all happened too quickly when Hazel grabbed them both by the collar again, scolded and pulled them back.

Jack was still waving to them, maddeningly ignorant ….

"Tara, come on," he then said, nodding at the pistol, "put it down and introduce me to who calls you Mamá." He winked. "You could say I'm an old friend –"

"You have no right to make but one demand! Why are you here?"

"Neptune's nightgown, love!" he chuckled, still strangely elated. "You have no idea how many places I've been to before arriving here … I swear I was looking for you wherever I could. I was in Caracas even, for months at that. Travelled along the whole coast, beautiful views … When I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. In every corner of the world, starting with Tortuga –"

"Your compass," she interrupted him, "couldn't that help you? You lie through your teeth once you open your mouth!"

"No, that was actually the crux of the matter. I lost the compass, and by that my way back to you. Just after we'd last seen each other." For once he actually groaned at himself. "Drove me a bit mad to be honest, but let's focus, aye? Not a soul had heard of you nor ever seen you again. Not one. No one would talk. You'd basically dropped off the face of the earth." He shrugged laughing. "And suddenly you're standing in front of me, and you're here? Of all places in the world, you're here?"

"Yes," she hissed, "I'm here …"

"Well, I can't possibly deny the signal effect of that, you always knew I'd avoid the Cove at all cost," he said. "So basically you can pull the trigger now, love. Go ahead and shoot me. Because I'm already deeply wounded by this anyway." He briefly glanced past her, nodding towards the door. "But you're probably having scruples because there'd be a witness, huh?"

At these words, she quickly turned around – and found herself meeting James's apologetic gaze again.

"I give up," Hazel growled from inside, "go and see him then, it's about time anyway …"

James held on to the doorframe, unsure whether he should approach his parents.

Tara could tell how nervous he was, and when Tia also clung to his shoulders, looking at her mother with wide eyes – especially at the pistol in her hand – she finally let the weapon sink.

"That was you, am I right?" Jack called over to James, tilting his head. "You were the tarantula …"

James was hesitant at first, but then he just nodded, so shy that Tara could hardly recognize him. Still, he let Tia push him a bit further out the door.

"You're one hell of a pickpocket!" Jack rejoiced, finally inching towards Tara to take the pistol from her.

Their hands briefly touched as he did so. All natural to him, so absurdly meaningful to her.

And then he winked and told her, "He reached through one of the shelves and switched them." He glanced back at James. "Good bargain for you. Will you catch yours?"

He nodded, so Jack tossed the wooden model without concern, however Tara flinched.

"What?" Jack asked. "He has it all under control, see? Caught it." He grinned at James again. "And hats off, boy, no one's stolen from me in ages –"

"And that's something you think to be praiseworthy?" Tara immediately tried to grab the pistol again. "I should've just pulled the –"

"Credit where it's due," Jack retorted, hastily taking her angry hands in his to stop her from killing him. Meanwhile he called out to the boy, "Tell me, does the little princess behind you steal just as good?"

Tara gave up with a groan, but not without pushing Jack off her and then crossing her arms to at least give the twins a stern look.

"She's even better," James meekly admitted nonetheless, "but … Mamá asked her not to do it." He smiled at Tara with a shrug. "She asked me not to steal, either, actually, but that opportunity … well, it was too good."

Jack nodded. "I love those moments …"

"Oh really!" Tara hissed, finally putting herself between the children and him, as though she had to protect them.

Jack subsequently raised his hands in defense. "I was under the impression those two wanted to chat with a bad influence like me, but surely I'm misinterpreting again."

"No," Tia agreed at once, "we very much want to –"

"You stay away from them!" Tara turned to the kids and unceremoniously pushed them back into the shop. "That's enough, get inside! Go to Hazel and Kate and apologise to Ace for tying him up and gagging him on his sword search!"

"But Mamá –"

"You tied Brannigan up?" Jack exclaimed, chuckling as Tia nodded with obvious delight.

"Inside," Tara grumbled, "now! Kate, give me a hand!"

"The captain without a ship," she sneered when stepping out the door barely a heartbeat later, "it's been a long time since I last saw you …"

"Quite a while, yes," he confirmed.

"Almost seven years. We haven't exactly missed you, and by the way, your fencing used to look much more agile. Sore back? Must be the ravages of time, huh?"

He gave her a mirthless smile.
How damn right she was …

"Come on, you two," Kate then said and shooed them back in, gently but firmly.

"But he's here at last!" James protested.

"It's him, isn't it?" Tia added.

Although Kate was already pushing the two away, they were still trying to catch glimpses of him.

Almost seven years.
Here at last.
It was him …

He'd always disregarded absurdities of this magnitude, but suddenly a raw intuition awoke in him, the existence of which he'd not even been able to imagine until then – and its unexpected force literally entranced him for a moment.

"Wait!" The girl wriggled out of Kate's grasp and slipped away from her once more. She made a dash back to the door and with an odd urgency in her voice she called out to him, "You're Sparrow, aren't you?"

It hit him that he'd actually never believed in coincidences.

Only in fate.
The girl, however, was not a touch of destiny, as Tia Dalma used to word it.
No, she was a force.

He glanced at her, the focus in her pitch-black eyes, those already high cheekbones – wonderful indigenous heritage …

And he could do nothing but nod before Kate pushed her into the shop again. "That's enough, off you go. Let them talk first, will you?" She quickly closed the door behind them, but it didn't bring Tara the peace she'd hoped for. Quite the contrary.

She could see it in his face.
He was wide awake.

"How old?" He was beside himself, but he needed to see her mimic when she answered him. "How old are they, Tara? They're twins, aren't they?"

He hung on her lips but she hesitated. She owed him and them the truth, she knew that. And she really wanted to speak it, but her lips didn't move.

"They're twins, am I right?" he urged again, more serious than ever while coming yet closer. "And soon to be seven years old, yes?"

She felt her eyes well up when he lifted her chin to regard her intently.

"Tell me …"

But what was there to say? What to deny? Those were his eyes, the very same features …

"How old do you think they are …"

"Tara –"

"You saw them, didn't you!" She frowned just when she thought her heartbeat had become audible. "Of course they're twins! And of course they're yours!"

She made it sound like it was an accusation, but also her greatest happiness. It sounded like love and hate. Hate for him, and love for the children.

For a few heartbeats, the world seemed to stop spinning.
His world, hers …

She didn't have children with a respectable, humble, good man.
She had children with him.
Two beautiful, clever children who'd just stood there a moment ago – and were his …

It was as inconceivable as it was logical. It made sense, and yet again it was also incredibly bizarre …

He gulped, not taking his eyes off Tara as all the certainty found its way to the bottom of his consciousness.

Surprised he was, yes. But he didn't seem half as upset or lost to Tara as she would have expected. He didn't begin to argue. He didn't deny anything. He wasn't looking for excuses – no, though he would usually talk all the time, he was silent now. He hated moments without a mask. He always kept up his carefree charade because the world was easier to outsmart with an ace up his sleeve.

And yet, today of all times, Tara found herself with an anomaly – Sparrow without a double bottom. She had experienced him level-headedly time and time again – ocassionally. Those moments with him had always been more intimate than anything else.

"We have children," he finally repeated, after what felt like eons. "You and me. Since years."

"Yes." She nodded, slow at first, then more and more vehemently. "And if you already want to run away from that fact –"

"Tara, I –"

"Then you'd best do it right now, Sparrow!" she interrupted him. "At once!"

"I don't deserve your cynicism," he claimed, still strangely calm. It actually made her pause. "I looked everywhere for you," he followed up, nodding with pure determination, though still a bit dazed. "I've been wanting to tell you for years that I was incredibly stupid when I left you, and I wanted nothing more than to find you, and lo and behold, here you are, with these two –"

"That's right! I'm not alone. Do you understand?" All her frustration imploded in this second. "What you want, what I want, that doesn't matter. They have to be safe and happy –"

"I want to get to know them."

"And what then?" She snorted in disbelief. "Are you going to be gone for a couple of more years by tomorrow – or in a fortnight, for my sake – and break their hearts? Believe me, I'd really rather shoot you with your own –"

"For that you've already let the opportune moment pass," he said and worked up a smirk, his cheerfulness abruptly restored.

"Silly me," she mumbled, "but better late than never, I –"

"Tara, listen …" He was looking her up and down with far too much admiration. She downright hated liking that look of his so much. And not only was she pausing now because of it, as he wanted her to, no, her pulse was inevitably betraying her to herself, too. "You can try to kill me all night long later, just like you used to years ago," he finally said, an unmistakably suggestive smile on his lips, "for all I care, until the very last person in the Cove hears us, but for now –"

"How dare you speak to me like that after all this time!" she let her temper rise.

"But for now," he completely ignored her rebuke, "I really want to get to know the two – ah ah!" He stopped her from reaching for his pistol again. "Don't. Not just yet." He grinned. "Better late than never, but better not too soon, savvy? After all, I first have our children to greet –"

"Give me one good reason why I should let you see them." There were so many, she was well aware – yet she wanted to hear it from his mouth.

"Because I'm asking you to – and you can't hide them from me any longer?"

"Hide them?" she raised her voice at the exact truth he had no business knowing, or even mentioning so brazenly.

"Shall we talk about it?" He winked, mischievous like his son. "Or would you rather introduce me first?"

Thanks so much for your kind comment again ella, it truly made my day! *-*