AN: Its here and I'm so excited for the next part of this story. I have a lot of exciting things planned ahead so enjoy, stay tuned and as always,

Cheers!

Exhaustion. That was the only thing she felt the past three weeks. Sleep was getting more difficult to come by and simple trips down the hall or to the bathroom took her breath away. Everything was exhausting. And then there was the pain. Why on earth did women ever want to get pregnant a second time? Her back was aching, and her legs, her feet and hips, too. Uhg what a nightmare.

She rolled over again to face Alastor who was fast asleep. Lucky asshole. As much as she wanted to be envious and jealous, she wasn't. Not entirely. He too needed sleep. As the inevitable due date approached, her body was starting to ache more which meant she moved less. He picked up any slack with zero complaints, and that was an impressive feat. So whenever she caught him nodding off while reading or asleep in his tower, she would leave him. If she couldn't get sleep, then at least he could for her sake, and she could live vicariously through him. Or at least that's what she told herself.

With a quiet sigh she pulled the cover off and slowly waddled her way to the bathroom. As she sat, she thought about how long it had been since she had listened to music, her own music up on the roof, like she used to do often. Maybe that would be her goal for the morning. It wasn't a lot of steps up, surely she could make it. With new found conviction, she dressed and stepped out keeping quiet to not wake Alastor.

While some nights she preferred to be in her room alone, most nights she found herself cuddled up to Alastor. One would never know it, but he was a cuddler and she didn't mind at all, she found it sweet. The only nice thing about not being able to sleep much meant she could see his sleeping habits. Unlike her, he remained relatively still most of the night only moving to readjust when she did. If she accidently woke him, she could put him back to sleep in seconds lightly massaging his ears. And even though the soft hum of static never completely went silent it never bothered her, even through all the emotional hormones. It was a sound that always comforted her.

She had no real way of knowing, but she had a small hunch that he slept better when with her. Which she thought was odd. Normally she was like a windmill when she was asleep, limbs flailing throughout the night. And of course she tended to take blankets. She would apologize for it, when they first started sharing a bed, but after it was brushed off every time she stopped. Turns out his shadow had started placing a second one nearby for him to grab. It wasn't a problem now that he cuddled up to her. Perhaps that was the reason he cuddled up close. Can't take the blankets if he became attached to the blanket thief.

He probably wouldn't be asleep for much longer anyway, but she still tried to be as quiet as possible as she slipped from the room. Once she slipped into the hallway she made her way to the roof access, little green mp3 player and speaker in hand.

It took her a few minutes to get up the stairs and once at the top she had to take a bit of a rest to catch her breath, but she made it. Smiling at her accomplishment she made her way across the roof to set up her music. She spent a while flipping through all the titles unsure of what she wanted to listen to. She had so many choices and she liked all of them. Maybe something a bit slower, since the morning seemed to be quiet and groggy still.

She looked out over the city, her gut twisting in unease. Everything seemed to be quiet, too quiet. It almost felt like the calm before the storm, the air thick with apprehension, waiting for the small rock to start the avalanche, the match to light the fuse. She wasn't sure why it felt like that. Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

Ellen stayed there watching the sun rise, her music there to set the mood, which apparently fit well with her feelings of unease. She had it set to shuffle, yet every song that played was slow and ominous. She didn't think she had many songs that fit that feel, but she was apparently wrong. Something was going to happen soon and the universe seemed to be putting up all the warning signs. It felt silly thinking that was real. Movies and tv always set the mood for scenes like that, music and soundtrack setting the tone for what was to come. But this wasn't a movie. If only the unease of her stomach got that memo.

"I was wondering where you'd run off to. I suppose I should have known to check up here."

Her gaze never strayed from the view in front of her, watching the light refract off the buildings and glass windows making the city look almost like stained glass. Alastor moved to stand beside her to see what had captured her attention. After a long moment of silence she finally broke, curious if he felt it too.

"Something about today is off. Can you feel it?"

"My dear, this is Hell."

"Well yeah, but…"

She pressed her lips together, deciding not to answer. He couldn't feel it. The building tension in the air, the feeling of dread and foreboding feeling that the storm was coming. A war was brewing on the horizon and she didn't know why or the cause, but it was making its way. Maybe this was simply stress and anxiety from her lack of sleep. She shook her head turning to face Alastor with a weak smile. If he wasn't worried, she had no reason to be.

"I think we should have breakfast. I did promise our little squirt a demon steak and I don't want to hold off any longer. He did keep up his end of the deal."

She took Alastor's arm and with a quick wave of his hand the music was silenced and the items slipped from sight, no doubt back in their room.

"We should probably start thinking about names too. It's getting kinda close to that time and we should probably have a few picked out."

He helped her down the stairs. "I imagine that won't be too difficult."

As they made it down the hallway a thought came to her.

"Why not just shift down in shadows? It's going to take forever for me to work my way down like this."

It was something she hadn't really thought about but looking back she found that she had walked and waddled ever since she told him she was pregnant. Not once and it seemed crazy she only noticed now.

"Seeing as you are the first woman with child that I have encountered down here in Hell, I'm not entirely sure if that would be safe for the baby. Not something that's been done before so I don't see the need to take such risks. You are still capable of walking, yes?"

Ellen pouted. It was a good reason, but she still didn't like that she had to waddle so far to get down to the lobby. Movement was good for her, but it didn't mean she wasn't looking for small ways to lessen them.

After a painstakingly slow waddle they made it down to the lobby where Alastor left her at the dining table so we could go and prepare their breakfast. She hadn't really put much thought into picking out names and even though they didn't know the gender they both kind of gravitated to calling it 'him'.

She had a few girl names picked out, though only because she had never really liked her name and had thought about other names her parents should have considered. And as cliche as it was, and she hated when people did it, she was seriously considering Cecile. To be named after Alastor's mother. She wanted to argue that this was different then when anyone else did it, but it wasn't. She just wasn't sure if Alastor would be okay with it.

Alastor returned shortly with two plates of steak and eggs, his being more steak than eggs. It was early enough in the morning, they didn't have to worry about someone joining them, it was just them and they enjoyed their breakfast together.

She was glad she was only able to choke down one bite of the steak. Her taste had definitely returned to normal and demon flesh was not appetizing at all. She didn't know how he had known, but Alastor had placed a very small piece on her plate with a few slices of bacon just in case. He seemed a little extra delighted to get the rest of what she didn't finish.

They discussed name options and it seemed both of them were in the same mood, one of a silly nature, their conversations becoming light and bubbly.

Ellen couldn't help but notice the genuine look of happiness on his face. A side of him not many got to see. A more human side. She could ignore his joy of carriage and violence because of moments like this, of being genuinely himself. It was the part of him that kept her, the good in him he didn't see, that no one saw. To everyone else he was the fearsome Radio Demon, the man you didn't cross, the man that wouldn't hesitate to torture and kill you if he felt you deserved it. Sure it was evil and wicked, but every one had good in them and she loved that she got to witness it, he wasn't afraid to hide that from her.

He didn't notice when, but Ellen had clearly stopped listening, her gaze glazed over stuck on him with a look of complete warmth and contentment. A small crooked smile etched on her lips. It shocked him momentarily. She was staring at him like he was the eighth wonder of the world. Not a look he was used to receiving. He chuckled to himself a bit unsure what to do.

"It's rude to stare my dear."

Her smile pulled higher, being pulled from her thoughts. "Not starring, just admiring the wonderful man in front of me."

He cleared his throat hoping he was able to keep the flush from his cheek. It wasn't the words but the genuineness of her tone that struck him. "You needn't butter me up, whatever you need I shall provide."

"Then you can agree that John is too basic a name, it's off the list."

He leaned back laughing hardily. "Ellen, John is a strong name, common in my time."

She crossed her arms, a terrible attempt of a pout playing on her lips. "No John."

"Then an exchange for…George perhaps?"

She groaned. "Those are all such old names, I want something unique."

"All names are old, spanning lifetimes before ours. They're good names if they're still around."

"Oh come on, Alastor. This is the only child born in Hell that will be part mortal. We need a really cool, memorable name."

He knitted his brow together.

"Cool? We are now stipulating names based on how 'cool and memorable' they are? There are many kings named George, Henry or Charles."

"They were remembered because they were kings, not because they were cool."

"Is that not the important part?"

She chose not to answer that, pushing on with her thoughts. "Zekeil."

"Absolutely not."

"Atticus."

"And you call me old fashioned?"

"Eugene?"

His face actually soured at the suggestion. "Oh yes, I'm sure that's much better than Arthur," he replied sarcastically.

"It would end up being shortened to Art or Arty."

"Better than Gene."

She rolled her eyes. "Ok what about Xander? With an 'x'."

"Is that even a proper name?"

"It's short for Alexander. We could use a Zed instead of an 'x' if you want."

"Zed?"

"Yeah that's…oh!" She blinked a few times her thoughts needing a second to process.

"Right, you're American. Sorry I forget sometimes." Her smile grew lazy. "You pronounce it Zee."

"You are not American?"

She laughed. "Nope. Canadian born and raised. I guess we never really talked about that."

"Hiding from your past are we?" He raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Hiding? No, there's just…" her smile fell. Was she hiding? She was normally one to overshare, but since arriving in Hell she had been closed off, at least about her life. Was she ashamed of it? She didn't think she was. Maybe she had unintentionally become ashamed of her family.

All throughout high school she always avoided the topic of her parents and homelife. Not because she was ashamed, but she hated sounding like she was bragging. Most of her friends had single parents or parents going through a divorce. She felt bad bringing up that her family was getting along fine. Her parents would argue from time to time, whos wouldn't? But she always felt bad bringing it up. So she learned to avoid the topic or simply just not engage in those discussions.

But that didn't account for the rest of her life. She had always found it difficult to get anything about Alastor's past from him, but it seemed she wasn't any better, just as secretive. She hadn't meant to be, she just thought it was unexciting. She did what everyone did. Wake up, go to work, go home and pay bills. She didn't have any hidden hobbies of the murderous kind or cared about the latest gossip. Would he be interested in hearing about her cats? Probably not, she just lived a normal, average life, and that was okay. Just boring.

"I didn't mean to pry, your past is your own business."

"No! I… I guess I just didn't realize how little we know of each other." She looked down at her stomach, her cheeks a bit pink.

He leaned over to her to whisper. "New Orleans. The most beautiful city in the south where the music never stopped." He leaned back. "I suppose one could say I had a bit of a rough upbringing."

"You don't need to do that, Alastor, we have lots of time tOOoOo-."

A wave of pain shot from the top of her abdomen down. It didn't last long, but it was enough to get her to sit straighter. She had been having small waves of pain like that for hours now but this one was more intense.

She didn't realize Alastor had pulled his chair closer, sitting beside her watching carefully.

"It's fine, I'm fine." She waved him away.

He gave her a look, knowing she wouldn't admit it was bad until he could already feel it. He moved to his feet gathering up their dishes and headed back into the kitchen. He wasn't gone for very long, only a few minutes before he returned, taking his seat back beside her.

Her mind was now lost in thought. Were these contractions? Had she been in labor and just simply ignored it? That couldn't be possible right, this wasn't bad, no water broken, maybe she was being paranoid?

"Shall we find you more comfortable seating?"

It took her a few seconds to pull herself back before she responded, "yeah, I think that would be good."

They slowly worked their way to the lounge, but never made it. Another wave of pain rippled through her only this time it hurt. A lot. And to her horror, it was accompanied with a gush of liquid that soaked the floor and her feet.

"Oh no, not now. Please not now," she whined to the universe.

"On my! It seems today is the day then."

She gave him a glare, about to sarcastically retort when another wave hit and the amount of profanities that were expelled from her lips was sure to impress a sailor.

She had a death grip on Alastor's arm and from the amount of swearing he seemed a bit impressed.

"I admit I don't think I've ever heard such colourful language."

She wasn't ready for this. She had no idea what to do, hell no one down here did. They were all just winging it. There had to be some corrupt doctors at some point in history, right? Surely they could find one.

There was something about timing contractions, she probably wasn't at that point yet right? How would she know?

She hadn't noticed that Alastor had snapped clean clothes on her or that she had been led around the lobby.

"We're not sitting?"

"I figured a distraction would be best."

He was probably right, though she wouldn't be able to walk for very long. Her eyes squeezed shut and she was forced to stop as another contraction hit. She managed to keep the profanities out but couldn't help yelling, "I really hate you right now Alastor!"

He only chuckled. "Yes, well I suppose that is warranted."

The next few hours she cycled through sitting and taking laps around the parlor trying not to cause too much of a scene.

"They're about 4 minutes apart and last about 50 seconds, you are very close."

After the pain subsided she asked through panting breaths, "you've been timing me?"

"How else are we to know when you're ready?"

She just nodded. Right. Well at least he seemed to know what was going on. She sure as hell didn't.

"I don't particularly wish to assist with the… uh…hmm." He cleared his throat, lightly pulling at the collar of his shirt, clearly uncomfortable with subject matter.

She smiled, knowing what he was referring to and cut in to save him from trying to find the right words.

"That's okay. I think I'd prefer you at my side anyway."

He visibly relaxed. "Yes well I suppose someone will have to… assist. Is there anyone in particular you had in mind? Charlie perhaps?"

She didn't even hesitate, answering right away, "Angel."

He scowled. "I don't want him anywhere near-"

"-He is probably the most knowledgeable one here with regards to the lady garden. If I can't have an actual doctor I think he's the next best."

He didn't like it at all.

"Nifty-," he offered.

"-Can sew me up after. I imagine I'll probably need stitches."

"Angel? If he disagrees?"

She gave him a look. "Then I suppose you can get Lucifer."

"Not happening."

Her expression turned to one of amusement. "Then I guess you'll have to do it."

"Surely there is someone else."

Her response had to wait, her face twisting in pain and she ground her teeth together. Alastor moved to her side already knowing this was a lost battle. If she wanted Angel, then he didn't have a choice, much to his dismay.

"Right, well Angel it is then." He muttered.

Why did he even bother arguing? What was that thing she had said? Happy wife, Happy life. He shook his head, rolling his eyes as he turned away.