#-̗̀ my rose-colored boy ! isms.

[lyricsbylincoln]

-̗̀ —   “ i come bearing edible encouragement. ”  lincoln moves to set the cooke tray onto the countertop, but he can so much as blink, whole thing clatters to the ground. a musical laugh bubbles past upturned lips. “ crap. clearly, i am incapable of being slick. so now we’ll just have to make due with encouragement of the verbal variety, huh? ”

or alternatively :  whaddup, my dudes !!  it is linc comin’ atchu with my songwriter beb #2, LINCOLN MONROE .  you know what to do! don’t forget to like, subscribe, and leave a comment below !

(KEIYNAN LONSDALE, CISMALE, HE/HIM) i hear LINCOLN MONROE has a link to ALL OF THE BANDS. the TWENTY-FOUR year old is a SONGWRITER, apparently. he's so PACIFIC and CHATOYANT, but can also be kind of TRACTABLE and INGENUOUS. i hope he finds success with the band. i'm kinda interested in hearing more about them. 

gonna format this v simply in bullets this time, since i have to leave for work relatively soon & i wanna get it out here!

lincoln grew up in upstate new york after being adopted by kirsten & peter monroe when he was just an infant. they provided a very stable, lovely home. like?? his mother was the unofficial Neighborhood Mom. all the kids were always at the monroe household, sippin’ kool aids, snackin’ on homemade cookies. kirsten monroe is literally the ultimate affectionate, beautiful soul. in fact, when lincoln was 4, she convinced her husband to adopt lincoln’s adopted sister after her family was killed in a housefire three towns over. she’s about six months older than him, and honestly would be a lovely addition to the rp if y’all wanted to bring her in? essentially after the monroes adopted her, she and lincoln grew positively inseparable. 

lincoln expressed an interest in dance by the time he turned 5, so his parents eagerly enrolled him in dance lessons! pretty soon he hopped studios to a competitive school and began competing in contemporary/ballet dance competitions.

then came a full-ride scholarship to a performing arts high school in new york city. his parents weren’t going to say no  ( the monroe’s are characteristic people-pleasers )  so they made the three-hour drive to the city & dropped lincoln off for his first year. many tears were shed, hugs were exchanged, and his mother made lincoln promise not to forget about them back home. he’d skype them every freakin’ night.

at this school, lincoln became captain of the contemporary / hip hop dance team. they took national and international titles like they were kids in a candy store. this squad was insane. and with lincoln’s choreo, the awards just kept on coming. after he graduated, lincoln auditioned for the traveling cast of the wiz and snagged an ensemble role. he traveled with the cast for seven months until he decided it was time to put down some roots on the west coast.

at this point, all was well at home. he continued his daily contact with his family, and the monroe group chat was always booming. so lincoln didn’t think to suspect anything was going on at home beyond the usual. his mother spoke about neighborhood baking parties; his father spoke about the work he was doing at the state house as attorney general. all was well.

( tw: illness, hospitals, terminal diagnoses )  the phone call came on the eve before his 21st birthday, after the opening night performance of rent at los angeles theater. kirsten was in the hospital. she’d collapsed while helping to set up for the local church’s benefit concert. his father wouldn’t disclose much information beyond that lincoln should not fly home. against his better judgment, lincoln finished out the two-week run of rent before booking a ticket back to new york. he expected his mother to be out of the hospital by that time, and she’d indicated as much over the phone.

when lincoln’s plane touched down, no one was there to pick him up. kirsten was back in the er -- but lincoln only found that out by pressuring his sister until she caved and told him what was really going on:  three months ago, kirsten had been diagnosed with stage 3 leukemia. and no one in the family had thought to give lincoln a proper notice. 

kirsten was in and out of treatment for several years, reaching short periods of remission before her levels went awry again. lincoln visited home when he could, but once he began booking more consistent jobs, the cross-country flights became more difficult. he still talks on the phone to his mother each and every day, and will absolutely cancel plans to check in on her if need be.

i imagine he started songwriting as side thing, something to post online for fun back in college while he was studying composition? and his youtube channel probably gained lots of steam. following one of his larger runs in the la theatre scene, he was probably approached about entering a professional contract for a song for one of the groups. and he was probably elated about the prospect. 

since then, he’s been contracted for all of the groups, with pieces ranging from pandemonium’s chaotic rock to dream tsunami’s sunny electro-pop vibe. lincoln plays a grand total of twelve instruments & he’s always generating new material.

in addition to songwriting for these groups, he’s also an up-and-coming solo artist himself!! he performs at open mics, local coffee shops, etc. while also uploading things to youtube/soundcloud and performing in la-based theatre productions!

lincoln is ebullient -- his presence practically effervesces wherever he is. he’s always ready to shine, as cliché as that might be. he’s just got this heart full of love and joy and optimism and he’s eager to share.

currently has bleach-blonde hair, because it’s super cool. 

so speaking of that popular youtube channel! there, he’ll post choreographed routines to his favorite songs, little covers, original pieces, and vlogs with the bands he works with. fans probably eat it up and constantly ask for more.

his dancing. gah.  this boy just loses himself in it. catch him at a bjéar concert all-out contemporary/interpretive dancing in the crowd. frick, music just.... consumes him.

his favorite color is green!! why?? does he need to have a reason???

he takes his coffee with whipped coconut cream on top, garnished with a dash of nutmeg & cinnamon. he always gets lil whipped cream mustaches, and he’ll apologize every time.

apologizes a shit ton. will apologize for apologizing, and then apologize for doing so. it’s a spiral. someone stop him.

he’s all easy smiles & spring breezes, the cleared air after rain. it’s very difficult to get him angry, and some people ( cough nikolai cough ) find that absolutely infuriating.

cannot hide when he falls in love.

falls in love once every 30 seconds.

absolutely goes to florist shops to check in on the owners, ask about their favorite memories, and smell the roses. maybe he accidentally nose boops the flowers sometimes. it’s okay. it’s all part of the experience.

allergic to shellfish & negative vibes !!!

speaks fluent french. bonjour, my dudes

blushes v easily !!  will duck his head and smile so wide. compliment him & watch the magic

lowkey voiced prince naveen in the princess and the frog ... ribbit

some examples of original work he’s performed in the area / uploaded online:    x    x    x    x     x       

lincoln is that friend who’ll show up for you, even at 4am, with takeout and a shoulder to lean on. going through a bad time? he’s the one you should call.

lowkey fashion icon ???  let him take you thrifting.

if you get sound bite previews, you’re one of The Trusted Few.

at berklee, he was lauded by his professors and fellow students -- there’s a reason this guy can write so diversely. he’s virtuosic. he’s not afraid to make major leaps. catch him tossing unconventional chords into conventional genres, because the music industry needs a spark and he feels honored to be able to contribute.

you know how some people give birthday letters or cards? lincoln writes original birthday songs. every year. yep.

volunteers at a local dog shelter.

i would love a roomie for him? pls?

i seriously want all the connections so pls hmu on discord or here!! ily all sorry this is such trash on a stick

[deadpcnned]

the gamble of the heart | chapter 3 (r.l.)

chapter three: hangovers and cowards

series masterlist

previous chapter

pairing: remus lupin x potter!reader

chapter summary: remus and y/n attempt to talk about their failed relationship 

warnings: swearing, hangover?? 

wordcount: 1.4k

a/n: super short chapter but the next chapter is already done and will be up soon

REMUS WAS met with a dimly lit room as he opened his eyes. He could tell it was daytime by the bits of light peeking in from behind the curtains, but the thick drapes were thankfully blocking most of the light. He was clutching an empty bottle of alcohol against his chest and there was drool sticking to the corner of his mouth. Remus wrapped himself further into his duvet, trying to ignore the nausea adding to his previous misery. He’d have to use some charms to cure the steady ache in his head and drink a shitload of water. 

Balancing himself as he stood, Remus was met with an empty room. He was sure he had slept through the boys trying to wake him up, as he had a habit of doing. Even if they hadn’t he really didn’t care. He just needed some food. Trudging down the stairs, Remus hoped that Sirius and James hadn’t planned anything tremendous today. He didn’t have the mind or the heart to deal with their antics, no matter how much he enjoyed them most days.

To his disillusionment, instead of a clear path to breakfast, he ran into a rather gorgeous obstacle. His anger wasn’t enough to blind him from how beautiful Y/N looked, perched up on the sofa reading from a textbook. With a shake of his head, Remus started to head towards the door again.

“We need to talk, Remus,” Y/N’s voice was a mix of stern and concerned and Remus sighed knowing nothing good was going to come of this conversation. Turning around, he walked back towards the couches and took a seat as far away as possible from Y/N. 

“Not here,” she motioned to the crowd behind her and began to go back up the stairs. Remus didn’t want to climb up the stairs. Not just because of his massive headache, but because he didn’t want to just listen to her. He had wasted enough of his time doing that.

But people always told him old habits die hard. 

Entering Y/N’s dorm, Remus took a seat at what appeared to be Lily’s desk. The tops of ten dead flowers that were carefully taped to the table - that he knew James had given her and she had reluctantly taken - were proof of that. He wondered if Lily would ever hurt James the way he had been hurt. Well, after she finally stopped pretending she didn’t care for the boy. He hoped not. No one deserved this pain, but especially not James. 

“What was yesterday about?” Remus slowly brought his head up to look at the Y/N. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, nervously clutching her blanket. He couldn’t count the number of times he had held her on that bed. Or the one night he had snuck into her dorm after a particularly gruesome full moon. He had wanted to remember the details of that night forever when he had left in the morning, but now he wanted anything but that. 

Y/N had mumbled an incantation under her breath and suddenly Remus’ head felt a lot lighter. 

“You know perfectly well what last night was about,” Remus said simply. There was no point in either of them playing dumb, especially her. 

“No, Remus. I don’t. It’s not like you to make a scene like that.” Remus scoffed at the expectations she held for him. 

“Yah? Well, it’s not like you to make out with some random in the middle of a crowded room.” Y/N looked at him incredulously, her mouth agape.  

“So, what? Are you jealous of Mason?” Was she fucking insane? 

“Am I jealous of Mason?” Remus was seething as he spat his words at her. “Of course I’m fucking jealous, Y/N. Stop acting so innocent.” 

“I’m not acting - Remus, I-” In two swift motions, Remus was standing right in front of Y/N.

“No, you are. You know damn well you’ve let me down. So, at least be brave enough to own it.” Slowly Y/N rose up from her spot, protectively crossing her arms in front of her. 

“So that outfit you wore yesterday… At the game. It was what? To get my attention,” Y/N’s accusation invoked a rosey color to inhabit Remus’ cheeks. He had felt embarrassed enough when he had made the decision the day before, but now he was mortified. All he could do was nod. 

“You looked utterly stupid.” Remus let out a mirthless chuckle and pursed his lip as he watched her. 

“That’s my fucking problem, Y/N. I am so goddamn stupid. I am so stupid that I can’t let go of this notion that you still care about me. That you still have all the feelings we talked about. But I’m even stupider because I would still do anything for you,” Remus’ words were bullets, but every shot aimed at Y/N seemed to be hitting him instead. 

“Moony,” He grimaced at the way his nickname left her lips. She looked distraught and he resisted the urge to smooth out the lines on her forehead. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“Alright,” Remus took a breath, trying to keep his temper cool. “Start by explaining why? Why’d you start dating Tomlinson?” Y/N’s face flushed as she looked at Remus with an unreadable expression.

“I like him, Remus. That’s why.” Maybe if Remus had really been listening, the words would have broken straight through his bones. Instead, he was ready to ask her the next question on his mind. 

“What happened to us?”

It was a simple question. If Y/N had a new boyfriend she should have no problem giving him an answer. So, why was she tearing up? Why did she get to be the one hurting right now? 

“Remus, Mason, he just… I don’t know, Remus. I can’t explain it,” Remus was getting sick of her feigning guiltlessness. He was the one that was left alone and empty, she probably had Mason filling her up every night. 

“Did you lie in your letter?” He studied her reaction carefully as he spoke his next words. “You said you loved me, what the fuck does that mean?” When Remus had received the letter from Y/N, he had assumed it was going to be just another mundane update since the last time they had talked. Which would have been more than enough for Remus. However, within the last lines of the letter she had casually told Remus she loved him. He wasn’t sure if it had been a mistake, but that day he decided as soon as they were back at Hogwarts he would tell her how he felt. He would make what they had real. 

“That I loved you?” Y/N visibly retracted and closed her eyes as she replied. 

“Is that what it meant? Because if you fucking loved me, then how the fuck did you find someone new after three weeks?” Remus tasted a salty liquid on his lips and instantly wiped away the tears that were slipping down his face. What made him more angry was that Y/N was just staring, wide eyed. “ANSWER ME, Y/N!”

“Remus, I don’t know. I wish I knew what happened, but I just met Mason and it was like something instant.” 

“You’re a liar. There must be a reason that you fell… fell o-out of love with me,” Remus took a harsh breath in, willing his tears away. 

“I’m not lying. It had nothing to do with you,” Remus chuckled, choking on his tears. How cliche, he thought. Running his hand through his hair, he spun away from Y/N. It was as if the moon had come two weeks early, because he was unable to control the anger coursing through him. He pounded his fist against Marlene’s bed frame, but made sure to stay as far away from Y/N as possible. No matter what, he couldn’t scare her. 

“Remus!” Y/N yelled, running over to inspect his hands. Her hands were cold but she electrified every inch of skin she touched. Sighing, she looked up at him. “Look, Remus. I have no idea how to explain to you what I’m feeling, but you’re just going to have to accept I’m with Mason now. Or - or we can’t be friends.” 

“Okay,” Remus nodded his head calmly, carefully moving his hand away from hers and brought them to his side.

“Okay? Thank you, Remus -”

“I guess we just aren’t friends anymore,” Turning around, Remus didn’t bother listening to what bullshit Y/N was spewing. But before he walked out of the room he left her with one last thought, “Coward.”

Remus didn’t react until he was safely in his locked dorm room. And then he broke. Did Y/N have a charm to use for the pain growing in his heart? Because he really needed it.

taglist: @kitkatkl @faceache111 @peasantview @missmulti @666cookies @thetiredslytherin @wonderful-writer @devilswaldorf @chococerealmilk @rare-breed-of-human @rexorangecouny @messagesinthesky @theawkwardone-isme @fredweasleysbitchh @nicodoesntexist @whoreforfredweasley @voidmalfoy​

[southern-continent-skies]

So I just read the transcript of Episode 5 of Be The Serpent (I am not an auditory person), which is what looks to be an excellent podcast (it won a Hugo!) about literature, fanfic, tropes, etc. Episode 5 deals with fealty and loyalty, and despite being named “O Captain, My Captain” there is no mention of Vorkosigan Saga ANYWHERE. Which is a shame.

But it’s ok, because oh boy do I now have my own thoughts, which I will now share. Actually, this post has just one thought, because it’s so long. The jumping-off point for this is the part of the podcast where they discuss how fealty, the way that literature/fandom uses it as a theme, obviously only works in fiction. Relationships with that sort of fundamental power imbalance don’t work In Real Life, either on a personal or a societal level, but fiction gives you the avenue to explore things like that in a safe place.

And this gave me an epiphany regarding the endless trouble I have been having with what ought to have been a short and easy fic. The POV was Dr. Duv “glittering tinsel of neo-fascism” Galeni, and I was trying to write him as both personally engaging in that sort of fealty dynamic, and also, well, canon Komarran history professor. It... didn’t work. And maybe a better writer than I could have made it work, but then I look back at Vorkosigan Saga canon, and well... maybe not.

So my thought is:

The Vorkosigan Saga (VS) deals fairly well with various -isms, especially given its 1986 start date, but imperialism is not one of them. This is in part because so much of the series is essentially (platonic) fealty kink, or at least fealty kink bait, and you can’t put themes of fealty and anti-imperialism in the same narrative box. Or at least, not if you want to fully explore both concepts, which we can frankly see quite well in VS canon. And this is exactly the problem I was having with Dr. Duv Galeni.

(cut for length because in this essay I did)

This is because, fundamentally, stories about fealty and stories about (anti-)imperialism are both exploring the same subject matter (the relationship between the empowered and the disempowered, and its effects) and coming to WILDLY different conclusions. A story indulging in fealty kink, even platonically (especially platonically), is engaging with the fantasy that power can be used responsibly, and leaders, including hereditary leaders raised to their positions, can be the sort of people who deserve that sort of power. A story interrogating imperialism is engaging with the reality that this is not actually the case. They are fundamentally contradictory genres of storytelling.

Now, I’m not saying you can’t have a story that deals with both of these concepts; I’m saying that it’s difficult (impossible?) to write it in a way that simultaneously critiques societal power imbalances and romanticizes them. So, if you’re going to write a story that deals with these things, I really think you have to pick a register, if you will. Are you writing in the universe of rose-colored fantasy, where the powerful are just and their ethics have plot armor? Or are you writing in the vein of gritty realism, where power corrupts and authoritarianism and fascism are frequently co-morbid? Anti-imperialist themes in the first register are going to sound weird, because they don’t necessarily follow from the (fantasy!) premise, and narrative glorification of feudal relationships in the second register is, uh, not a good look.

VS canon deals with this problem by separating out different pieces of the story to go in each box, primarily by time period. Ezar and Serg and their contemporaries are clearly in the “realistically dark abuse of power” box, but the next generation, starting with the post-Pretendership Regency and definitely once we get to Emperor Gregor, is clearly played as being Better Than That, and their uses of power are essentially not critiqued at all. I would put the dividing line in the narrative immediately after Carl Vorhalas, aka when Aral stops trying to be Ezar Lite and allegedly Does Better, and this is one reason why, even apart from the change in protagonist, Shards of Honor and Barrayar are so different in tone from the rest of the series.

The problem, of course, is that “Ezar and Serg and their contemporaries” includes Aral, and he definitely does some things, even after the Turn Towards Fantasy Feudalism, that go in the “realistically dark abuse of power” box as well (I’m thinking primarily about the suppression of the Komarr Revolt), but a) they’re offscreen, b) they’re presented as things that are necessary under the system, which can’t be challenged because we’re in the Feudal Fantasy register now, and c) he feels bad about “having to” do them, and so the narrative doesn’t categorize him or his actions as a problem anymore. You can also look at the various ways Miles uses his societal privilege in the later books, only some of which appear to be recognized as such by the narrative (cough*Ekaterin*). And then there’s that one time when Miles mentions that Simon did actually direct him to carry out an (1) assassination.

So this method of splitting the narrative in half and trying to do both registers in sequence is ... not a comfortable compromise, if you look at it too long. 

In fanfiction, of course, this issue is much easier to deal with, because you don’t have to try to fit both of these contradictory themes into the same story. You can have your Aral/Simon fealty kink in one corner, and your deep dive of Komarran reaction shots in an entirely different one. If you wanted to put them together, and somehow do both of them justice, I think you’d have two choices:

 - Positively-presented fealty angle with the Barrayarans (or at least the Vor Barrayarans) but realistically and narratively terrible actions vis-a-vis the Komarrans and the proles. Which is to say, you have created a subset of the Feudal Fantasy register within a larger picture of Realistic Ack. Many, many people will be lovely to those they consider worthy (or Us), and awful to those they consider not (or Them), so this isn’t a stretch at all. You could re-write VS canon into this mold without too much trouble, I think, but you’d need a lot more narrative criticism of the MCs than you get from LMB.

 - Fealty angle where the colonized/vassal desperately wants that relationship to actually work as advertised, perhaps to the point of willful blindness, but, of course, it doesn’t. This is Realistic Ack register all the way down, and probably chock full of whump and angst. This is maybe what I was trying to do with Duv, but I’m not sure I can actually manage it.

 - I don’t think you can do anti-imperialism in the Feudal Fantasy register at all (since part of the premise is that feudalism, and by extension imperialism, aren’t inherently bad), but I’m open to ideas.

In conclusion, either your glittering tinsel of neo-feudalism is dazzling or it is barbed, you have to pick one.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Historical (1900s) Masterlist

Links Last Checked: June 2nd, 2022

part two

1999 - chocolatesaucelester

Summary: Pretentious 90s AU where Dan and Phil just hang out.

Back Seat Bingo (ao3) - existingcourage

Summary: Phil, a young television and radio personality lands Dan, an upcoming producer as a co-worker. Friendship is inevitable, but what happens when life, love, and fear gets in the way? A 1950’s Phan AU.

Before Tomorrow Comes - lifee-scap-ism

Summary: As Phil volunteered to join the military, his days with Dan were numbered. But instead of spending time together, Dan hid away from Phil for fear of losing him. However, on Phil’s last night before he was sent away, Dan stood soaking wet at his door. “Stay,” was all he said. “I want you here with me, before tomorrow comes.”

Black Beauty and the Sofa Cushion - awesomesockes

Summary: Dan and Phil race horses through the forest and Phil falls off.

Bread and Roses (ao3) - ollie_33

Summary: 1984, the world striking miner Phil Lester’s is shaken when a new support group, Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners. From the start, Phil Lester doesn’t want them or their leader Dan Howell in their village. Yet, as time passes, Phil’s world keeps changing and with it his own mind. Based on the 2014 movie Pride.

Living is Easy with My Eyes Closed (ao3) - TheUKAmazingDan

September 19, 1976

Dan Howell liked pretty things and a pretty guy, but not the one who was interested in him. No, Dan was infatuated with someone he couldn’t have.

Peaches - placingglaciers

Summary: Due to circumstances beyond his control, Dan’s occupation is becoming nonexistent, which will make it difficult for him to see Phil every day. (Taken place in 1960 America, if you don’t mind.)

Saturday Night Fever (ao3) - TheUKAmazingDan

Summary: It’s the 1970s, and Phil is just looking to have a little fun.

Summer of Love (ao3) - developerdaniel

Summary: where its 1967, the summer of love, and dan and phil are so in love no matter how wrong it is in the public's eye for man to lay with man and the two boys can't ever get enough of each other behind closed doors.

Strawberry War - placingglaciers

Summary: Philip owns a soda shop and Daniel is an amateur journalist who has become one of his regulars and something bad happens due to the nation’s critical war circumstances. (Taken place in late 1944 America, if you don’t mind.)

The Boy with the Rose-Colored Glasses - placingglaciers

Summary: A coming-of-age story where Dan and Phil are caught up in the frenzy of peer pressure, a garage punk band, divorcing parents, and a hint of neighborhood baseball within the fine time of August 1975 in small-town America (if you don’t mind).

The Copycat Killer - wishicouldunreadthat

Summary: Set in the early 1900’s.

The Next Night - nebulous-frog

Summary: Germany in 1937 was a hard place for anyone “different”. Dan just wanted to live his life, fall in love, and die surrounded by family, but his particular community was too “different”. Dan found himself hiding, wishing for a better world, maybe even finding it in the eyes of an unlikely savior.

The People We Meet at the End of the World - notanannoyingfangirl, auroraphilealis

Summary: The year is 1934, and the Great Depression is in full swing. Seven years previously, Phil Lester’s family had come to America hoping to find their fortune; what they found instead was much worse. Forced to ride the rails in search of work, Phil meets up with Dan Howell. The two brits are alone in a foreign country, separated from their families after they lost their life savings in the stock market crash. Together, they decide to find work out west - but the west has problems of its own. The dust storms are raging, and every day has become a desperate struggle for survival.

They Say All’s Fair (ao3) - spicydanhowell

Summary: December 1962. Dan accidentally receives a letter from a soldier in Vietnam, and his heart flutters with infatuation. He wishes his romantic interest would come home soon so he could finally see him, but not all goes as planned.

(when you gonna realise) it was just that the time was wrong (ao3) - The_Blonde

Summary: Phil works in a coffee shop. Or at an animal sanctuary. Or at a university. Maybe he’s a Youtuber. Maybe he runs an editing firm. Sometimes he’s in the 1920s. In all of these places he has dreams. In all of these places he is in love with Dan. It’s just trying to work out which time is the right one.

while our blood’s still young - celestialfics (orphan_account)

Summary: In the midst of 1950s America, Phil works at a malt shop that Dan frequents after school. Inevitably as their relationship progresses, the two boys face unrelenting adversity in a world that does not yet see all love as equal.

would it be a sin if I can’t help falling in love with you? (ao3) - resurrectdead

Summary: it’s 1978, everything is a bad influence, catholicism makes you a bit sad sometimes and dan finds the answer to all his questions.

[rebootrevolution]

X-Men Novelization Ch. 36

Chapter Thirty-Six

The Senate Chamber always lent a sense of gravity to any speaker at its center, and in most cases it was a gravity Senator Robert Kelly felt was completely undeserved. He played with the hefty weight of a pen in his fingers as he leaned forward into his hand listening to some incensed rambling about licensing and zoning issues. Kelly peered around his shoulder to look at the C-SPAN cameras glaring back and he adjusted the thick square glasses on his face in turn.

There was nothing being said worth televising. Nobody watched Senators drone on about the minutia of legislation. What they wanted was passion, and passion was something sorely lacking in the Chamber.

The weight of Kelly’s pen shifted and it slipped from his fingers, dropping underneath the table in front of him. “Heavens to Betsy,” the  Senator hissed to himself, pushing his chair back to lean over for the pen. His wife teased him about Southern-isms like that every time he uttered one and he could never get over the habit. He would always say “It don’t matter if you’re born in Boston if you’re bred in Birmingham” while playing up the accent and she loved it every time.

He banged his head on the bottom side of his table. He rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, but a cataclysmic noise only made him bang his head again. When Kelly arose from underneath the table the scene of the Senate Chamber had changed altogether. Sunlight poured into the chamber, filtered through dust and plaster that filled the air. Kelly shaded his eyes as he looked up toward the gaping top of the Senate Chamber at the silhouette of five figures as they descended from the sky. Where the hell was the roof? Who the hell were these people?

Kelly stood up, his chair clattering to the floor, and turned around to join the other senators running for the doors. Tables and chairs were overturned in the panic and Kelly elbowed his way through them with a racing heart. A swathe of clean air cut through the cloud of debris along the perimeter of the chamber as a navy blue blur chained all of the doors. Men tugged at the doors as hard as they could, swatting at the chains with their hands as if the locks would magically come undone. It was no use. Kelly turned around and adjusted his glasses to see the threat that turned so many grown men instantly into a herd of panicked wildebeests.

The blur that chained up the doors came to a stop by his allies. It was a young boy, no more than a teenager, with silvery windswept hair and a scowl that bounced from point to point around the room. His clothing, tight-fitting athletic wear of black and navy blue, stood out against the deep crimson layers of the woman next to him. She held her coat closed around her with loosely crossed arms as her fingers played with a dozen different rings. She had the same dark European features of the silver-haired man next to her, but her own hair billowed in auburn curls. The others in the group were far older than the first two. One man puffed on a cigarette with twisted smiling lips while another crouched down below the others inhumanly, his his throat and lower lip inflating in slow pulses.

It was clear that the last one was the leader, and he rose into the air without any visible method of suspension as he addressed the Senators around him. His arms stretched out from a dark cape, his frame padded with an armor that made him look Herculean in proportion. A smooth red helmet sat on his head like a crown, framing his face and exaggerating the shadows that fell on it.

Kelly noticed suddenly that the cameras, just like the man himself, floated of their own accord. They closed in around the five individuals and Kelly waited to hear them speak.

“These,” the floating man began, “are your strongest men?” There was chattering and confusion throughout the Chamber as the floating man scoffed. “I will quiet you like children!” he roared, briefly looking down at the smoking man and nodding. “Mastermind?” the caped man asked, and the smoking man dropped his cigarette hand to his waist level and stepped forward, his other hand stretching out and sweeping across the room. At first there was nothing, no lights or vibrations or dazzling effects. Then Kelly began to feel it.

Snakes of every assortment and color began erupting from the carpet and coiling around the legs of the Senators. Hundreds of them out of nowhere, hissing and licking the air with darting tongues, climbed up and curled around the limbs of everyone in the room save the five in the middle. Kelly squeezed his own eyes shut, paralyzed with terror as he felt the icy leather weaving into his clothing and around his neck. One slid its head between the middle and index finger of his right hand and he throttled back a scream. When finally he opened his eyes he wished he had not.

The caped man delighted at the sight of the Senators all frozen in place and coated in reptiles. The cameras panned around the room, some of them closing in on the sweating faces and bitten lips. “These are your representatives? Pitiful, panicked, paralyzed men?” The cameras started to return their gaze to the center. “The future is here. I am Magneto, and this is my Brotherhood of Mutants.”

[harttohartforever-blog]

The Road Not Taken

Chapter 1 July

"Darling, I've been thinking a lot about Jonathan Jr, I keep remembering how he called me dad. I liked the way it felt, even though I knew I wasn't his father. What would you think about trying to have one of our own?" Jonathan looked more nervous than she had ever seen him, sitting at the patio table with his face in his hands. The supper plates needed clearing and the crickets chirped an evening song as the silence stretched out between them.

"It would mean a huge change in our lives," Jennifer responded at last. "And at our age, it might not be so easy to get pregnant." She added, well aware of every one of her 43 years. She thought of all the years of blithely avoiding a pregnancy. Then she and Jonathan found each other and now she wanted more than anything to have a child with him.

"If you don't want to then just say the word and I'll never mention it again," Jonathan said earnestly, taking her hands for emphasis. "You are all the family I need." The logs in the firepit crackled loudly. Her face, normally so open and expressive, was in shadows, making it impossible for him to read her thoughts. An eternity passed before she spoke again.

"I want to talk about it. It just feels sudden, it feels like it's coming out of left field and I want to say it right. I would like to have a child, I would love to actually. I just figured that door was closed. We weren't exactly young when we got married and that was almost nine years ago. I've been afraid, really afraid, to get my hopes up. With all of our adventures over the years, there has never been just the right time to bring it up. I guess in my mind if we didn't try then it was still a possibility. Are you thinking you would like to try and have a baby?"

"Well truthfully, I don't think I have the hips for it," He joked to lighten the moment and Jennifer reached across the table to swat at his arm. "Okay, okay, bad joke. But I think I would like having a child. I'd like to try anyway."

"Well, if we are both in agreement then why don't we go upstairs and start practicing right away." She offered with a saucy grin. Jonathan's face was beaming as he kissed her fingertips.

"Mrs. Hart, have I told you how much I love you?"

"Once or twice, but tell me again. I love hearing it."

"You are amazing. Just when I think I know everything about you, you find a way to surprise me all over again." He stood and offered her his arm. "Dance with me, Darling?" He started to hum as she stepped into his arms. It took her a minute to place the song he was humming as he waltzed her into the house. It was Until You Let Go from one of her favorite plays, Frankie and Johnny.

Jonathan had always been a tender and generous lover but tonight their lovemaking had a special feel. Jennifer could almost believe they were conceiving a child that very night. She held him close, skin on skin as he moved in her, the hot July wind blowing through the canyon and under the eaves.

 Chapter 2 October

The cream-colored leather interior of the Hart Industries Gulfstream was both luxurious and beautiful, but Jennifer hardly noticed. She had learned that a few of the other members of the Board of Directors liked to 'turn a card' on occasion and had coaxed them into a cutthroat game of poker. Jennifer was ruthless at cards, even Jonathan would only play casually beside her to avoid suspicion while she relieved the others of a significant amount of their folding money.

Tonight she was even worse than usual. She had sworn off alcohol while they were trying to get pregnant. A long flight plus zero champagne made for one ornery wife. He had begged out of the game a few hands back and now he just sat across the aisle looking at her. He could never get his fill of just looking at her. Usually, she caught him and got embarrassed, but today she was focused on the game and didn't notice his gaze. She was casually dressed in black slacks and the soft deep green blouse he had bought her last year in Milan.

She was so lovely, even with the intense look of concentration on her face. He let his eyes trace her tumble of loose curls, her coral lipstick, the swell of her full breasts behind the green silk. Suddenly, he stopped breathing, his mind racing as he tried to remember. It had to have been before that dinner with the Hawthornes, God what a nightmare that had been. He'd nearly nodded off over his meatless steak, Mrs. Hawthorne had recently become a vegan.

Mr. Hawthorne had been droning on and on about his trip to Nogales and the fascinating world of industrial equipment supply. Jennifer had slipped out of her heels and kicked him under the table then rested her stockinged foot in his lap to make certain he didn't start to doze again. Her unpredictable sense of humor was the only thing that made such evenings bearable. He had passed the next hour rubbing her foot under the table while trying desperately to avoid getting too aroused from her foot resting oh so casually against him.

Now as he cast his mind back he was certain she hadn't had her period since then. His mind was racing, hardly daring to hope, Her diaphragm had remained in its box, gathering dust in the bedside drawer since that night in July but this seemed too fast, too easy. Given their age and Jennifer's irregular periods he had resigned himself to the process taking months, if it happened at all. He was almost afraid to mention it to her for fear of tempting fate but they had to know.

When she finished the game and had collected a nice little pile of what she called her pin money, he moved over to sit down beside her. His voice was cracking as he quietly asked her about her period. Jennifer's eyes went wide as the import of his words sank in and she hurried to grab her datebook, flipping the pages backward rapidly.

"August 5," she breathed. "Do you think it's possible ... "

"When we land in Oslo we can try to find one of those home tests until we get home and can see Dr. Paul. Until then let's try not to get our hopes up." The rest of the flight passed far too slowly for either of them. Despite their assurances to the contrary they both kept drifting into daydreams of a chubby-cheeked infant with blue eyes. Fortunately, the rest of the Board who were traveling with them entertained themselves and left the couple alone, blissfully wrapped up in each other. Except for one junior executive who was traveling with his boss and mentor.

"They act like they are honeymooners."

"Hush boy," the older man told him. "You should be so lucky as to have a woman look at you like that after so many years."

 A week later their two heartbeats were the loudest sounds in the room as they each held their breath, watching Dr. Paul's every move. She made some adjustments to the machine next to the exam table and then flipped a switch. Suddenly the room was filled with a loud whooshing sound.

Jonathan had to swallow twice before he could get the words out. "What is that?"

"That is your baby's heartbeat. Or I should say, that's one of your babies heartbeats." She responded with a smile.

"They have more than one?" He questioned.

"No, they each only have one. What you have two of is babies. I can hear two distinct heartbeats." She fiddled with the machine again and the whooshing changed tempo.

"Twins?" It was Jennifer's turn to sound incredulous. Two babies! Her mind went completely blank. She couldn't think of a single one of the questions she had meant to ask Dr. Paul. Fortunately, Jonathan was still able to form somewhat coherent sentences.

"What do we do now? Does Jennifer have to do anything differently? Is having twins more dangerous?"

"There will be some slightly increased risk when it comes time to deliver. For now, you don't need to do anything. Jennifer probably won't even notice any differences from a singleton pregnancy until she gets much further along. She might tire easily, it's very hard work building a human from scratch, even more so building two. Just see that she eats right and gets plenty of rest. Jennifer, I'll want to see you back in four weeks." Dr. Paul patted her shoulder. "Oh, and congratulations you two." She left the room with a final smile.

Jennifer got dressed in a daze. She floated out of the office barely hearing anything. Jonathan had to take her wrist when he stopped at reception to settle the bill and schedule the next visit or she would have drifted right onto the elevator. He couldn't miss the way one hand cupped her stomach protectively, though it was still flat for now.

At home, that afternoon the roses had shed their summer blooms and Max was mulching the beds when they approached.

"We wanted you to be the very first to know ... Uncle Max." Jennifer told him holding out the ultrasound photo.

"Mr. and Missus H. This is wonderful! I'm so happy for you guys." The normally reserved Max hugged them both tightly.

"We were hoping you would agree to stand as godfather for them," Jonathan added. Max was speechless, he just wiped sudden tears from his eyes, but when he started to turn away Jonathan reminded him of one of the Max-isms he always used,

"There's never any shame in crying or loving."

   Chapter 3 February

Indian summer had seemed to hold onto Los Angeles forever and Jennifer spent much of it drowsing beside the pool. Dr. Paul had been right, she was tired a lot of the time. She had cut back on her magazine assignments, focusing mainly on pieces she could research and write from home even though Dr. Paul had given her permission to fly, as long as she stuck to the Gulfstream and not Jonathan's puddle jumper.

Christmas had been a wholly different affair this year. Rather than jetting off to Gstaad or Monaco, they chose to stay at home, cocooned in their own little world, endlessly speculating on the changes the new year would bring.

At just under five months along Jennifer had started to show in a way that was no longer easy to camouflage with a loose jacket or untucked blouse.

"Arghh." She threw down another outfit in frustration. "Nothing fits," she complained. She was stalking around the closet rejecting outfit after outfit wearing nothing more than one of Jonathan's pajama tops. He put an arm around her, his other hand resting on the small swell of belly that had made itself known over the past weeks.

"Let's go shopping," he suggested. "The post-Christmas crowds should have cleared out by now, and as fetching as you look in my pajama tops, you need some clothes, Darling."

He took her to Motherhood Maternity and A Pea in the Pod. They found plenty of dresses and comfortable slacks, but all of the nightwear available was much too utilitarian for Jonathan's taste. He loved so much to see her in slippery silks and filmy chiffons, in yards of lace and soft marabou trims. He just couldn't understand why everyone assumed that a woman stopped wanting to feel beautiful and sexy just because she was having a child. Her assortment of negligees outnumbered her daytime clothes because he could never resist buying her more. Since they couldn't find anything that fit the bill, Jonathan had hired a dressmaker to reimagine some of her favorite styles as maternity wear.

His current favorite was a bias-cut, silk slip of a gown in a deep dusty rose color. It floated on her skin and brought out the fire in her hair.

She was wearing it now. Jennifer knew how much he loved it and, as her pregnancy progressed it was clear that he delighted in her changing body. Whenever they were in the same room he was always beside her. Always touching her face, running his hands through her hair, or pulling her into his lap. In bed, he cupped her breasts and very gently brushed his thumbs over nipples grown almost unbearably sensitive.

Tonight she hadn't even made it out of her dressing room when he slipped behind her and wrapped her in his arms.

"You are so lovely." He told her now.

"Will you still feel that way when I look like an overinflated beach ball?" Her words were teasing but he could hear the faint thread of worry laced through them and he kissed her neck.

"I will love you no matter what. Isn't that what we promised when we got married? I seem to recall words that effect." He kissed her again, holding her close, his desire evident. "I'm more afraid you won't want me to touch you when you've had two little babies hanging onto you all day."

"Jonathan, I will always want you. Your touch, your kiss, you're my life. Besides," she smiled at him. "I'm going to need you to remind me that I'm still a woman when I've had two little babies hanging on me all day."

His hands grew ever more urgent on her body.

"Come to bed," He murmured against her skin, and she let him lead her into the bedroom. In the silence, he lifted the gown from her body, a diffuse glow emanating from her still-lit dressing room as he mapped her skin slowly. Showing her with every inch and every kiss how much he still desired her.

They made love urgently, with a need they hadn't felt in months. Recently, their joinings had been slow and sweet, they came together like golden amber honey. But tonight was dark, smokey molasses, touching, kissing, all tangled together. And when it was over, when she was sitting breathless in his lap and he was softening inside her, she laid her head on his shoulder and fell asleep. Jonathan pulled the comforter up around the two of them and held her long into the night.

 Chapter 4 May

"Oof." Jennifer struggled to sit up. She looked very funny rocking herself from side to side but Jonathan knew better than to laugh or even smile in her direction. Instead, he came around the bed and helped her to her feet. She was five weeks out from her official due date but Dr. Paul had cautioned them that twins often came early and to be prepared.

Jonathan hoped that it happened soon. He still found her as beautiful as ever but her stomach was so distended and swollen she looked like she could burst any second. She had lost weight everywhere else and she looked too thin except for the load she carried. He felt miserable for her. It hadn't been an especially warm spring but she was so overheated that they had taken to setting the air conditioning down to sixty degrees. He and Max just wore sweaters around the house to help make her more comfortable.

Jennifer was eager to get the little soccer stars out too. She couldn't get any sleep with one or the other constantly kickboxing her bladder, and her delight at their early nudges and tumbles had long since given way to the earnest hope that they would quit her womb as soon as possible. She had been experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions for almost a month now. The first couple of times they had rushed to the hospital, only to be sent home again. Dr. Paul assured her she would know she was in labor when it was real but she still had her doubts.

Once Jonathan had her on her feet, he helped her into the dressing room and then into her underclothes and a lightweight sundress. She had been forced to give up her beloved high heels so, for now, her favorite shoes were a pair of black satin Daniel Green boudoir slippers from the '40s.

Max set a bowl of assorted melon chunks at her place on the table, she couldn't manage anything heavy. Sometimes it felt like she was existing solely on chilled fruit and popsicles. This morning she managed only a few bites before she pushed the bowl away.

"Mrs. H, you gotta eat. You hardly touched your supper last night." Max had fretted over her like a mother hen throughout the entire pregnancy.

"I've eaten as much as I can. I think I am going to go rest in a lounge chair on the patio. Maybe stretching out will help. My back is killing me."

Jonathan helped her up again. He was reluctant to let her too far out of his sight. He was constantly afraid she would fall or trip over Freeway since she couldn't see where she was walking anymore. Once she was settled into a chaise in the shade with a novel and a glass of lemonade he slipped back into the house and upstairs with Max.

He had wanted to surprise Jennifer by getting the cribs set up in the bedroom suite across the hall that had been designated as the nursery. They had already stripped the hardwood floors and stained them a pale driftwood grey. The walls were painted a grey so light it was almost white. Jennifer called it alabaster, and she had made the workman install clear plexiglass panels all around the railing of the small balcony on the other side of the french doors at the far end of the room. In the afternoon the sunlight streamed in through those doors and hit the crystal prisms she had hung up, where it splintered into a thousand tiny rainbows dancing on the walls and ceiling.

The pristine white changing table was already set up between the two white dressers filled with blankets and bibs and diapers. And there were two bassinets ready in the master bedroom, just a few steps away from their bed. But the cribs had been sitting in the corner unassembled for almost a month. They had elected not to find out the babies' genders, so they hadn't settled on things like crib linens yet. They couldn't resist getting a few things though. His and hers versions of tiny onesies and footed pajama suits so small they looked like dolls clothes.

They both had declared that they didn't care if the babies were boys or girls but Jonathan secretly hoped at least one was a girl. He dreamed repeatedly of himself doting on a little girl who was inexplicably born five years old. He wouldn't mind a son either, although he had no intention of naming the boy Jonathan Jr. Jennifer had declared no J names so while they had a few favorites they had decided to hold off on a final decision until they met the kids.

Meanwhile, Jennifer had given up on her book and instead was dozing lightly, dreaming of babies. An endless row of bassinets and she was rushing from cradle to cradle feeding, changing, and burping babies, trying desperately to keep up. Logically she knew she was luckier than most. She had Jonathan and Max to help her as well as the resources to have a baby nurse should she want one, but she was still afraid that two babies would prove to be too much for her to manage. She had told Jonathan the truth when she said she wanted a baby. But as an only child with no close cousins, she had never spent any time around babies and was scared she wouldn't be able to cope.

She was startled awake by a new sensation, a sort of electric tingling in her belly and she became aware of a slight dampness between her legs.

There was no sudden rush of fluid like they always showed on television but she was still certain her water had just broken.

"Jonathan," she called out but there was no answering voice. "Max?" The only response from the house was a sharp bark from Freeway who trotted out to sit beside her. "Jonathan," she raised her voice a little louder. The tingling had progressed into a sort of pinching twinge. She wouldn't call it pain exactly but it certainly wasn't comfortable and she had a sudden urge to move around. She struggled, trying to work herself out of the patio chair but she couldn't get any leverage to lift herself up.

"Jonathan," she called again. "Freeway, go get daddy." The little mutt obediently disappeared into the house. She hadn't expected him to actually understand but the pinch was fading now so she sat back in her chair to wait. She knew he wouldn't leave her alone for long. Sure enough, in about 20 minutes, he came out onto the patio, Freeway right behind him.

"Darling, I need your help." She held her arms out for him to pull her upright. "I need to get upstairs and change my clothes. My water broke." He helped her into the house but when he tried to head towards the front door she stopped him.

"We don't need to go to the hospital quite yet. Dr. Paul said not until the pains were less than ten minutes apart." Indeed the first twinge was only now being followed by another. She made her way upstairs slowly, leaning heavily on both his shoulder and the railing. They stopped for a moment on the landing so she could catch her breath and then into their bedroom and her dressing room beyond.

Her labor was fairly easy those first few hours. The hardest part was enduring Jonathan and Max fussing over her but she knew it was only out of an excess of concern so she tolerated it with a smile. Jonathan had called Dr. Paul who again told them to keep track of the pains and when they were nearing ten minutes apart to bring Jennifer to the birthing center. At last, the pains seemed to be somewhat regular and ten minutes apart so Max retrieved the suitcase that had been packed and ready for the last month and Jonathan helped her to the car.

 "I see our favorite frequent flyer is back. Third time this month." Irie noted with a grimace.

"Oh no, not again," Tianna responded. "She is convinced she was pregnant. She claims the 'bad people' took the baby away, cut it out while she was sleeping. Dr. Black loaded her up with Risperidone and Olanzapine. She's parked in the hall waiting for a psych bed to be available."

"The meth has rotted her brain. And I don't think she was too tightly wound to begin with. Yes Sir, how can I help you?" Irie pivoted back to the admissions desk.

"My wife is in labor. We are meeting Dr. Sofya Paul here." Jonathan began.

They had written a birthing plan that allowed Jonathan a maximum level of involvement although Dr. Paul had cautioned that things could change quickly once they were actually in it. Fathers fainted, mothers changed their minds, and with the added stress of delivering twins, there could be complications that forced her to banish Jonathan to the head of the bed or even from the room altogether. She cautioned them not to panic if that happened. The birthing center was attached to a large and well-equipped hospital that could handle any emergency that arose.

In the birthing suite, Dr, Paul declared her four centimeters dilated and progressing well.

"You might want to take her for a walk up and down the hallway." She told Jonathan. "The movement should help her along." She patted Jennifer's hand comfortingly. You're doing great. By this time tomorrow, you should be welcoming your beautiful babies."

When she had left the room he helped Jennifer to her feet and draped her robe on her shoulders. He kept telling himself that he was ninety-eight percent excited and two percent scared but deep down he knew it was the other way around. He was ninety-eight percent scared to death something might happen. Everything had gone so easily up to this point and he was terrified of some unseen danger putting any of them at risk.

He and Jennifer paced the corridors, dragging her IV pole with them, a bag of glucose solution making sure she didn't get too dehydrated or fatigued since she hadn't been able to eat anything. He fed her ice chips when her mouth was dry and when the pains became too strong to walk he half-carried her into the spacious bathroom and put her in a hot shower, stepping in behind her unmindful of his clothes, and holding her up when the pains seemed to come right on top of each other. He felt every contraction with her and he wished that he could take them in her place.

Lunchtime came and went but Jennifer couldn't eat anything other than the small cup of jello on her tray. Dr. Paul walked in just as the nurse was scolding her for not eating and she sent the unfeeling woman away, much to Jonathan's secret delight. Then a quick examination showed that Jennifer had progressed to eight centimeters and he cheered out loud.

They were in the home stretch now. Panting heavily, Jennifer asked for some juice but Dr. Paul told her not to eat or drink anything more. The admonition was wasted as just then the fiercest pain yet grabbed all of Jennifer's attention. She breathed her way through it puffing like a steam engine, sweat beading heavily on her brow almost as fast as Jonathan could blot it away.

There was no longer any breaks between the pains and Jennifer wanted to push but Dr. Paul told her to wait a little longer. The nurses prepped the room for the double delivery. Jonathan was half sitting on the bed behind her, arms wrapped around her. She was holding both of his hands, squeezing them tightly as the pains ebbed and flowed. He would bear the deep red marks of her grip for hours afterward but in this moment he never felt a thing.

It seemed like an eternity passed before Dr. Paul instructed her to push. From that point, things moved very quickly.

"Jonathan, it's time." Their birth plan gave Jonathan the opportunity to help with the delivery if there were no complications and he quickly moved down to the space that Dr. Paul indicated. When they had discussed this in the doctor's clean, cozy office it hadn't seemed real. Learning how to catch the doll and ease it out of the mannequin had seemed so simple.

But now his hands were shaking, his vision was blurred, and his heart was racing. He was terrified he was going to drop the baby or hurt Jennifer, or both. But Dr. Paul was right there beside him, encouraging him and reminding him of the steps they had practiced. The head was already out and he reached to support it in one hand and ease the shoulders forward the way the doctor had shown him, then in a rush the baby slipped into his hands. He stood there for an interminable heartbeat in awe of what they had created then laid the infant on Jennifer's chest. He was so carried away that he didn't even think to look if the baby was a boy or a girl. Fortunately, Dr. Paul was more observant than he was.

"You have a son," she told them. Jennifer cradled him against her chest breathing heavily, her work only half done. Jonathan wrapped his arms around them both.

"Thank you," he sobbed again and again. He wasn't sure if he was talking to Jennifer, Dr. Paul, or maybe God. A nurse gently took the baby just as the next pain hit Jennifer. Jonathan kissed her very tenderly and moved to be closer to Dr. Paul again.

The delivery of his second child was no less beautiful and awe-inspiring than the first and he laid their daughter on Jennifer's chest. The nurse brought their son back, all cleaned up and swaddled in a blanket and traded babies with Jennifer, taking the little girl to be cleaned and weighed. Dr. Paul finished tending to Jennifer and made some notes in her chart before she and the nurses left the room.

The little family was finally alone. Jonathan lifted the babies out of the clear acrylic hospital bassinet and laid them in Jennifer's arms. He sat beside her on the big bed and took one of the white swaddled bundles from her.

"I suppose we should decide on their names." He said quietly. Jennifer loosened the blanket on her baby enough to read the label on the tiny ankle monitor.

"I've got the boy. I think our top two choices ended up being Asher William or Leo Thomas."

"I think he looks more like a Leo than an Asher, don't you Darling?"

"Yes," she kissed the peach fuzzed top of his head. "Welcome to the world, Leo Thomas."

"And now for you little lady." He looked down at the baby girl asleep in his arms. "I think we both agreed on Allegra but we were stuck for a middle name. I have a suggestion that wasn't on our list." He paused and looked down again at the baby. "I'd like to call her Allegra Domenica after Sister Domenica at the orphanage. She was the first one to encourage me to reach for the stars. She took me to the library every week."

Jonathan didn't often speak about the orphanage he had grown up in. This Sister Domenica must have been a tremendous influence if he wanted to name his only daughter in her honor. Jennifer hoped that one day she would hear more about the extraordinary woman who started Jonathan on the path that led them to this moment.

"I think it's perfect," Jennifer said quietly. "Leo and Allegra Hart."

  Chapter 5 May cont.

The babies had both nursed and fallen asleep, so Jennifer decided to take a shower. She knew Max and some of their friends would want to visit and she didn't want to see people with sweat-matted hair and a hospital gown. Jonathan insisted on staying right in the bathroom with her while she showered in case she slipped or needed anything. She couldn't believe how tired a simple shower left her, she felt like she had run a marathon. By the time she was done, she needed Jonathan's help to dry herself and put on the pretty gown and bed jacket from her bag.

Allegra woke first, damp and fidgety but she settled right down with a dry diaper and wrapping her blanket back around her. Jennifer dressed her in the pretty baby bow she had slipped into her suitcase 'just in case' so they could tell the babies apart at a glance and nursed her while Jonathan started to lay out clean things, ready for when Leo awakened.

Jennifer silently blessed Mrs. Fitzsimmons, who had stitched all of her lingerie. The bodice of her gown was made up of hundreds of tiny pintucks that must have taken hours to press and stitch. Hidden in the tucks were openings so that she could nurse very discreetly without a lot of fuss and fumbling to keep herself covered. Her bed jacket had a deep waterfall of silk for a collar, plenty of material to drape in front of the baby and further shield her from view as she nursed.

Their first visitor was Dr. Paul, come to check on her patients.

"Everything looks good. The twins are latching on correctly and nursing well. Jennifer, you seem to be healing nicely. I'll want to see you in my office in six weeks. Roslyn can schedule you. But remember you two, no sex until after your checkup. Good luck to you and your beautiful

family." And she left them with a cheerful wave.

A nurse came in a few minutes later in rumpled scrubs while Jonathan was getting showered himself.

"I've come to take the babies to the nursery." She said.

"Oh, no thank you. We will be keeping them with us. It's all in our birth plan, there should be a copy in my chart." Jennifer told her.

"I'm supposed to bring them to the nursery." The nurse insisted stubbornly. Jennifer started to get a creepy feeling from this particular nurse. It wasn't just the wrinkled scrubs, the woman had an unhealthy pallor to her skin, and her hair was uncombed.

Jennifer groped blindly for the call button but she couldn't find it without looking and she didn't want to break eye contact with the nurse. There was definitely something off about the woman and the longer she stayed in the room the more convinced Jennifer was. There was a mulish look on the nurse's face, like a child having a tantrum but eventually she gave up and stomped out of the room.

Jennifer's sense of relief was palpable but she chalked the experience up to miscommunication and the overwrought nerves of a new mother. She didn't see any point in mentioning the encounter to Jonathan. When he came out of the bathroom she was calmly nursing Leo, Aly contentedly lying beside her looking around.

Max was their next visitor, barely visible behind two large teddy bears and a vase full of blush pink roses that he deposited on a side table. He turned to the babies in the little bassinet and picked up Leo carefully.

"Hiya kid," Leo goggled at him contentedly. "I'm your Uncle Max. I'm gonna teach you how to play gin, and take you to the track and the ballet. I took your dad to his first ballet too. And to always watch over your sister, don't let any mean boys pick on her." He gently set the boy back in the isolette.

"Hello little lady,' He scooped up Allegra and held her securely. "I'm your Uncle Max. You and me are gonna have great fun. I'm gonna teach you how to read the racing form, how to draw to an inside straight, And when to kick the mean boys in the shins." He laid her back down, straightening her blanket carefully. He didn't stay long, just long enough to congratulate Jennifer and ask if they needed anything from home. He confirmed that they were being discharged tomorrow and promised to have everything ready for the twins' homecoming.

Stanley and Deanne dropped by for a few minutes after lunch. And Jennifer's friend Maggie about twenty minutes after that. Throughout the afternoon people trickled in, leaving flowers and gifts for the twins. And between visitors, the nurses brought still more bouquets from business associates and the various charities they had supported over the years. The room became so full of flowers that the Harts began collecting the cards but sending the bouquets to other wards, especially the pediatric wards in honor of their new children.

Already differences between the twins were noticeable. Allegra nursed quickly with a minimum of fuss but she was prone to painful gas pains if she wasn't burped thoroughly after every feeding. Leo dawdled through his feedings, easily distracted, looking around at everything and waving his tiny fists. The corona of dandelion fluff on his head was a dark chestnut brown that showed auburn highlights in the sun. His eyes were sort of muddy blue that the nurses said would probably turn brown or hazel. But when they removed the beanie Allegra was wearing her hair was pure copper. There was no question about her eyes, they were a clear brilliant blue.

The next afternoon Max picked them up. He had been to the car seat clinic at the fire station and had car seats installed in the Bentley and even learned how to buckle them. He handled the babies like he'd been doing it for years, taking each of them from Jennifer and getting them strapped in without even waking them up.

 No one paid any attention to the petite woman in the over large army jacket and ratty sweat pants sitting on the bench near the door. She could hear them talking amongst themselves and she clearly heard the nurse call them Mr. and Mrs. Hart. They had to be using fake names, she thought to herself. Hart, to make people believe they were trustworthy and safe. But she knew the truth. They weren't safe at all, they had stolen her baby and now they were taking him away to do who knows what to him.

Didn't the doctors think it was strange this Mrs. Hart person was leaving with two babies? Unless ... could they be using some sort of cloaking device and the doctors couldn't see the second baby? That had to be it. She almost ran over to grab her baby back right now, they'd all have to believe her then, but there were security guards around and she didn't want to end up in the locked ward again. She would never be able to protect her baby then. She had their names now and it wouldn't be hard to find them. She would get her baby back.

 At home, they settled the babies into their bassinets and Jennifer laid down to rest. She was learning that keeping two babies fed and comforted was tiring work even with Jonathan taking all of the diapering and burping duties. It was nowhere near as scary as her nightmares but it was certainly daunting nonetheless.

The stream of flowers and gifts continued throughout the afternoon and Jennifer decided that they needed to host a party to introduce the twins to everyone.

"We can do a nice little open house for a couple of hours, say five or six weeks from now. All of our friends can ooh and ahh over the babies and we can thank them for all of this booty."

Jonathan smiled indulgently at her. He could deny her nothing and he already knew that he would be even worse where Allegra was concerned. Whatever she wanted, from a pony to her own roller coaster, he would move heaven and earth to give it to her. He was already wrapped around a finger no bigger than a match stick.

 Chapter 6 June

"Darling, what would you think about a little weekend trip? I was thinking we could fly up to San Francisco for a couple of days." Jonathan asked her as she sat in the rocking chair feeding Leo.

This cozy corner of their bedroom had become the babies space for now. Jennifer had placed a comfy rocking chair between the bassinets and a side table where stood a small lamp with a blue lightbulb. They had discovered that the blue bulb provided enough light to tend to the babies during the night without disturbing anyone else's sleep.

The clock on the nightstand read 3:28, Jonathan was putting Aly back to bed with a full tummy and a fresh diaper while Leo took his turn at the three a.m. feeding. He turned his head towards her and had one of those moments where time seemed to freeze, crystalizing this picture in his memory forever. Jennifer had her head bent low, watching the child at her breast in the soft blue light and Jonathan felt such a sense of perfect peace and contentment wash over him. She was so completely engrossed with the baby that he knew she hadn't heard him but he didn't speak again. He just sat and stared, memorizing every detail, until she carefully laid Leo back in his bassinet.

"I was thinking we might take the jet up to San Francisco. Go to the Mission Street Orphanage and introduce Sister Domenica to her namesake. Maybe do a little shopping and sightseeing while we are up there. What do you think?" He asked again as they both climbed back into bed.

"Sounds lovely, Darling," she answered him, sliding over to meet him in the middle of the big California king bed. She nestled up against him suggestively. The six-week ban on sex had been getting harder and harder but there was a certain enjoyment to be found in the frustration and anticipation of this time. This time she reached for him, her soft hands moving provocatively over his pajama pants.

"I love your initiative Darling, but I haven't done that since I was a kid." He told her.

"Shh," she told him now. "Just close your eyes and trust me." Her warm hand slipped past the thin cotton and her nails dragged lightly along his skin. She spoke softly, her lips brushing his ear and her voice low and husky. "Can't you feel me on top of you? Feel my body moving against you? Can you feel the heat between us, and that slight resistance as you slide inside me?" Jennifer had a way with words, he could almost feel it exactly as she described. His body was so attuned to hers that he could feel her now.

"Can you feel my breasts, so heavy now in your hands? Are you wishing I would move closer, just a few inches, close enough for you to get your lips around my hard nipples? Can't you almost taste them?" She was weaving a tapestry of desire that he was helpless to resist.

"Feel me now," she whispered. "Feel me moving over you. Feel our bodies mesh, our rhythm as we move together, the friction as you move within me." Her words spun themselves around him until he climaxed with a groan.

"Darling you are a never-ending wonder and delight." He told her as she brought a warm washcloth to clean him gently. He pulled her close, her lips were soft on his and opened sweetly at his kiss. "How shall I return the favor?" He asked her now while she snuggled into his arms.

"I'm sure we will think of something," she answered him sleepily as the approaching dawn brought the first traces of light to the horizon.

 Neither of them knew about the woman at the gate. She didn't ring the buzzer or even attempt to climb over it. She simply stood. In the middle of the driveway, wearing an army jacket two sizes too large and with dark hair falling in her eyes.

Her baby was behind these walls, she knew it. The bad people had taken it from her as she slept but a mother knows her child and she knew when she saw them leaving the hospital with two babies, that these were the bad people in disguise. She didn't know who the other baby belonged to or why the bad people were stealing them but she was not going to let them keep her baby. She would save him.

 The day dawned bright and fair as they packed their bags for San Francisco. It was an eye-opening experience to realize that they had one small bag for each of them and a much larger bag for each of the babies. They were only going for two nights but they had already seen firsthand how many clothing changes a pair of babies could go through in a day.

Jonathan had gotten their usual suite at the Fairmont Hotel and now the Gulfstream was winging its way north. The flight into San Francisco was short and uneventful. Leo slept the whole way but Allegra woke up as they were on approach.

"Look, Aly, it's the Golden City." Jonathan held her up to the window as if she could appreciate the great city spread out like a carpet below them.

Peter, the hotel manager at the Fairmont, came out to welcome them as always, and he marveled at the site of the babies they each carried.

"Aren't they precious. And look, this one's watching me." Indeed, Leo was awake and his eyes, which looked greener every day, were following the effusive little man's movements.

 Jennifer was merrily singing You Must Have Been A Beautiful Baby to the twins as she got them changed and ready for their excursion to the orphanage. Jonathan had called ahead and Sister Domenica was expecting them for tea in an hour. He hadn't mentioned the babies yet, preferring to make this introduction face to face. Downstairs, a limo and driver were waiting, much to Jennifer's surprise. She had expected they would take the cable car and walk the rest of the way. But Jonathan didn't want to try and navigate the trolleys with the kids being so young. She was surprised again to find two car seats in the passenger compartment.

"I was going to order a Towncar for us but there wouldn't be enough space for us both to ride with the twins. The hotel's limousine is the only option, I'm afraid. Peter has offered the use of it with his compliments and I phoned the nearest Baby Depot and had them send over a pair of infant car seats." He explained with a shrug.

Sister Domenica had retired from active service and lived next door to the orphanage, at the Sisters of the Good Shepherd convent. She was such a merry woman with her twinkling brown eyes and halo of white curls. Jennifer could see how a child would feel special in her presence. She had cried openly when Jonathan told her Aly's full name and they had been cheerfully reminiscing for more than an hour, Aly napping contentedly on her namesake's soft shoulder. She remembered Max, Jonathan had not been the only child he had mentored over the years, and she was so happy to learn that he was still with the Harts. All of the other Sisters had drifted through randomly to coo and fuss over the babies but at one point all conversation stopped.

A small, stooped, and very old woman in an all-white habit came toward them. Sister Domenica explained quietly that she was Sister Marie-Therese. She had been Mother Superior of the Order for many decades and she was 102 years old. Jennifer was struck most by the peace she saw in the old woman's gaze.

Sister Marie-Therese came to a stop in front of them. She may have displayed a very slight tremor as she laid one hand on each of the babies but her voice was still clear and strong.

"God our Creator, cherish these children. Jesus our Savior, protect them. Holy Spirit our Comforter, strengthen them. May the Lord Jesus, who loves children, bless you and keep you in his love, now and forever. Amen." She made a sign of the cross over each of the children. Then looked up at Jennifer and spoke once more.

"Bless you for the love you have brought into the world, and to this house." Then she patted Jonathan's hands in a grandmotherly way and walked out of the room.

The little party broke up soon after, but not before Jonathan had quietly made arrangements to pay the next ten years of taxes on the property. They returned to the hotel for a quiet supper in their room that evening and turned in early.

A day later on the way home, Jonathan teased her that it was fortunate they had their own plane as she had surely bought out the entire stock of baby clothes in the whole city.

"Me?!" She sassed right back at him. "You bought as much as I did. More even. Tell me what on earth Allegra is going to do with FOUR party dresses."

"Guilty as charged." Jonathan smiled. "A lady should never be without a proper party gown and she will grow out of them so quickly I had to get her an assortment of sizes. Besides, it's their birthday. They are one month old today"

 Where had they taken her baby? She fretted. The houseman had taken the bad people somewhere with both babies and then he had returned alone. Was her baby safe? What had happened to them? She had to know. She watched the gate all night and the next day. The houseman went out and returned a couple of times, but always alone. She needed to ask him where her baby went and that meant she needed to get inside somehow.

The next time he left she watched his car pull away then slipped in fast before the gate closed all the way. Darkness fell while she was still trying to find her way across the vast property. She was afraid to follow the driveway in case she was seen but she didn't know which way she was going in the dark and eventually she gave up and simply laid down on the ground and went to sleep.

She woke up stiff and disoriented. She was used to sleeping outside but in doorways, on bus benches, places like that, not in a field. She tried to think where she was and how she ended up here. Had the bad people brought her here? The bad people. There was something about the bad people she needed to remember. She closed her eyes again and went away somewhere in her mind. Her breathing slowed to only seven breaths per minute as her subconscious put the pieces together, sometimes she found answers that way.

The sun was on the wrong side of the sky when she came back out of it but she knew she had to find out what happened to her baby. She set out again this time scanning the terrain until she spotted the roadway again. This time she walked parallel to it, always climbing, until she finally spotted a house up ahead. She got as close as she dared then sat down under the cover of some bushes.

After an hour or two, she spotted the big silver car returning. But this time luck was on her side. The bad people were back. And they had the babies with them. She was so happy that she almost cried out and gave herself away. She watched them go inside. About an hour later she heard another car coming up the driveway. A delivery truck pulled up and 2 men began to unload a number of parcels. She saw a possible opening when all three of the bad people came outside to help carry packages into the house. While they were distracted she slipped around to the back of the house watching for another door.

She carefully entered through an unlocked kitchen door and started looking for the babies. Her pulse raced wildly and her mouth was dry as she checked rooms as quickly as she could. She found a back staircase and hurried to the second floor. The chirp of voices from downstairs was very faint now but she could move faster since she didn't have to worry about being seen.

She opened a door into what was clearly a nursery and she had a moment of nearly rational thought, Sunlight streamed in through the french doors and she looked at the rainbows all over the walls and thought maybe the bad people weren't bad at all if they had made something so beautiful. But then, they had stolen her baby and she had to get him back. He wasn't in either crib. Where could he be? She was getting more frantic as precious seconds ticked away. She finally left the nursery and crossed the hall to the last set of doors. If anyone looked up to the landing they would be able to see her but she made it into the room without being seen.

Finally, she spotted the bassinets in the corner and hurried over. She reached into the bassinet with the blue blanket and lifted out the sleeping child. Her little boy. He was beautiful. And she sat down in the rocking chair to marvel at him. His fluff of dark hair, his greenish-blue eyes, his clean baby smell, all overwhelmed her and she held him tightly. So tightly that he began to fuss.

Jennifer heard the baby monitor begin to sound and called to Jonathan

"That sounds like Leo, I'll get him," as she started up the stairs.

"If Leo is awake, then Aly won't be far behind. Max, can you take care of this?" He waved his arm at the parcels strewn about and started up the stairs after Jennifer. He was just getting to the landing when Jennifer opened the bedroom door and screamed. He was beside her in three long strides. His blood ran cold when he spotted the filthy woman awkwardly clutching Leo who was howling in earnest now. Her face and clothes were streaked with grime and she had bits of grass in her hair. As predicted, Aly woke up and began to sob in sympathy with her brother.

"Who are you?" He demanded "What are you doing here? Give me my son."

"No. He's mine. You can't have him."

"Jonathan, she is the one from the hospital. I didn't say anything because I thought it was just a miscommunication. She was dressed as a nurse and she tried to take the twins away." Jennifer gasped. Suddenly the woman pulled a dirty but very deadly looking knife from her waist and began waving it.

"He's mine, he's mine. You can't have him." She continued to insist. "You stole him from me. You're the bad people." She was growing more agitated, more shrill, with every breath and Jonathan worried she might harm the baby if things didn't calm down so he stopped advancing on her and began to speak in slow measured tones.

"Okay, okay. Let's take a breath, we don't want to scare the babies. Jennifer, I want you to calmly walk over to the phone and call the police."

"No." The woman shrieked.

"If he is really your baby then you will want a police escort to get out of here safely, won't you." He spoke as if it was the most reasonable suggestion in the world and he didn't have his heart in his throat at the sight of his son clutched in this insane woman's arms. "Now, why don't we all just sit down until the police arrive." His voice stayed calm and even, from the corner of his eye he could see Jennifer doing as he asked so the other woman did as well. She sat back down in Jennifer's rocking chair and began to croon to Leo who was starting to wind down to hiccuping sobs. She still held both the baby and the knife so Jonathan didn't dare try rushing her.

"He's fussy because he's tired. Why don't you lay him down while we wait for the police?" He suggested calmly. Her head was cocked to one side as if she were listening to something else, something only she could hear and she didn't put Leo back in his bassinet but she did lay the knife on the side table.

Jonathan didn't know how long they sat like that before he heard voices on the stairs and Lt. Grey called out,

"Jonathan, Jennifer, are you all right?"

"Yes, but come in slowly. We've got a situation in here."

"Jennifer filled me in on the phone. Just do as I say." The Lieutenant came in with his gun drawn but pointed at the floor. He didn't look at the Harts but focused on the woman in the corner.

"Ma'am, I understand you need an escort to take your baby out of here." The woman looked at him blankly for a beat before something like relief dawned slowly across her face. When she stood up she held Leo tightly but didn't even glance at the knife.

"How about if you hand me your baby so we can move fast if we need to." He suggested, still in that same reasonable tone of voice. The woman was convinced and handed Leo to him without hesitation.

"Now, my associate in the hall is going to get you to safety and I'll be right behind you." He continued to reassure her as they crossed the room and she trustingly walked into the hall and straight into the arms of several uniformed officers. Harry immediately handed the baby to Jennifer.

"I think he needs a diaper change."

"If he doesn't, I might." She answered with a shaky smile. The relief was plain on her face as she hugged her son tightly enough for him to begin to protest again. She couldn't stop kissing him as she hurried across the room to check on Aly, who had gone back to sleep, unimpressed by the events unfolding around her.

A dry diaper was not enough for Leo, who continued to fret, so she sat on the bed to nurse him. She couldn't bring herself to sit in the rocking chair with him but he quickly settled down at her breast, comforted by the familiar smell and touch of his mother.

She sat, aware of nothing beyond the comfort of his weight in her arms and the tug at her breast as her heartbeat slowed and her breathing returned to normal. Even after Leo fell asleep in her arms, she refused to set him down. In only a few weeks these children had become more precious to her than her own life. She would gladly have traded her life for Leo's if only the woman had set him down for a second or two, she didn't dare try to rush the woman with Leo between them.

  Chapter 7 July

Jennifer startled awake in the silence. She didn't know what had woken her at first until it hit her. The silence. Her body was telling her it was time to nurse the twins but neither one had cried for her. She had been fretful and snappish since the incident. Unable to sleep well even when the babies didn't need her. They had recovered much faster than she, even Leo showed no lasting effects from it.

She quietly climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the bassinets, her pretty burgundy gown swirling around her ankles. The room felt stuffy, they would have to adjust the air-conditioning again. She glanced briefly at the new rocking chair, Jonathan had replaced the soiled one within 24 hours. The bassinets were both empty and a shiver of fear gripped her even though she told herself firmly that Jonathan had probably gotten up with them. Nothing bad was going to happen.

They had beefed up the security system and the crazy woman ... Nora, she told herself determinedly, just a sad woman suffering from delusions, not a boogeyman. Nora was in a locked ward psychiatric hospital, she couldn't hurt them anymore.

Jennifer walked downstairs, feeling her way in the dark, towards the faint sounds coming from the kitchen. The door was open just a crack painting a stripe of light across the floor and she crept up to it and peeped through. Jonathan was dancing with a clearly not sleepy baby in each arm, singing A Thousand Years to them. She stayed hidden for an extra moment, watching her little family, with her heart filled to bursting with love and gratitude for her life. Then she couldn't hold back any longer and walked into the kitchen. Jonathan didn't stop singing, he just motioned her over and she wrapped her arms around them all, singing with him as they danced.

The sky was a pale indigo as the stars winked out one by one and they danced with their babies while the sun came up over the canyon. That was how Max found them an hour later. They each had a baby in one arm, the other wrapped around each other. Singing Love Me Tender and slow dancing around the kitchen table.

 The house was filled with people chatting and drinking champagne as Jonathan and Jennifer mingled, each carrying a twin. Allegra looked adorable in her tiny organza party dress and hairbow holding court from Jonathan's arms. Meanwhile, Leo was watching the event from his perch in Jennifer's arms and looking very dapper in a tuxedo onesie complete with tiny bowtie and cumberbund.

The chatter died down as Jonathan tapped his champagne flute for attention.

"We originally planned this party to introduce Leo and Aly to our friends but after recent events, we are just happy to have our beloved babies safe and sound. So we hope you all just eat, drink, and enjoy yourselves tonight." He raised his glass and said, "to Leo and Allegra Hart."

"To Leo and Allegra," the assembled crowd echoed.