A crying baby...
His quill scratched against the parchment as Julian poured over shipping invoices for Incubus Dreams’ weekly liquor delivery. It was early afternoon, and there were still several hours before the club would open its doors for the evening’s revelry. Things were slowly-- slowly, but surely-- going back to normal.
And now, ‘normal’ included the two cribs in the corner of his office.
Penelope had an appointment in court and had dropped the twins off an hour prior. For the most part, they had slept soundly, only stirring when they’d been laid in the crib. He didn’t know how long he’d have them-- until the early evening, at the latest-- but until then, he quite enjoyed having them around. He missed enough as it was.
Stepping into the outer vestibule of Julian’s office, Reilly gave Dominique a polite smile. The woman was quite competent and patient enough to put up with Julian and Reilly actually rather liked her friend’s secretary, but chit chat had never been her forte.
“Good afternoon, Dominique. Is Julian available?” she asked.
The brunette glanced up with a pleasant smile on her face. “Oui, Madame. ‘E ees in ‘is office doing paperwork. You may go on in.” Reilly Chambers was one of the few people that Julian didn’t mind walking in without an appointment or being announced. She could count the number of people like that on one hand.
“Thank you,” Reilly said, already moving toward Julian’s office. With a light knock, she opened the door. It had been some time since she’d seen her friend. He’d had a lot going on with the arrival of his twin sprogs and she’d been tied up with her own domestic happiness. A visit was long overdue.
Waiting for him to lift his head with the usual minor irritation that came when he was distracted from a task without warning, her lips curled. “Hello, Daddy dearest. How are you?”
Julian quirked a brow, though his lips twitched. “Soldiering on. Your presence, as ever, has brightened my day considerably,” he said, setting the quill down. Rising from his seat, he crossed around the desk and took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back.
Reilly returned his kiss with one to his cheek before stepping further into the office. Her eyes fell on the two cribs against the wall and two well-shaped brows rose. “You bring them to your office? I’d think their mother would object to innocents in the den of iniquity.”
“Their mother had to be in court. She had no other choice.”
“I suppose,” she replied doubtfully. Peering in the tiny beds from a safe distance, Reilly tried to think of a suitable comment. Babies were completely foreign to her and she hadn’t yet begun to feel any inclination to change that. The bloody biological clock could tick away all it liked. “They’re very... small.”
Julian raised a brow. “Well, yes, they’re about two months old. That tends to run in infants,” he commented wryly. “But the ability to capture their prey with their prehensile tongues doesn’t kick in until the end of year one. So, you’re safe for the moment.”
Reilly cut a look at her former lover and shook her head. “Look who’s an expert now. Know all about babies, do you? Can you change a nappy in under a minute?” The thought of Julian powdering bums made her frown disappear. “You’re enjoying it, then? Parenthood?”
He gave a Gallic shrug. “As much as I can be, I suppose. And nappies are why I have elves.”
With a snort, she rolled her eyes. “Passing it off to the elves is cheating. Don’t you want to be a hands-on father?” Just then the boy child - judging by the blue of its blanket - let out a squawk. The noise startled the girl child and suddenly both were making very unhappy sounds.
“They smell fear, Reilly,” he said with his own eye roll. Crossing to the little bassinet, he reached down and picked up a squirming Carter, holding him against his shoulder. Glancing back towards his old friend, he arched a brow at her. “Come here and make yourself useful, since you scared them.”
“I did no such thing. It was just coincidental timing,” Reilly argued, though she went to the other crib and followed Julian’s action, resting the downy-haired baby against her shoulder and bouncing gently. A soft shushing sound came from her as she pat the little girl’s back. “If she spits up on me, you’re paying for my dry cleaning.”
Julian didn’t bother to dignify that with a verbal response, but exactly what he thought of her statement was written in the look he shot her over his son’s head. “I hope you know that I’m making notes of just how much fun you’re having at my expense. Just remember that someday, our roles will be reversed.”
A retort was on her tongue, but it died as the thought that Blake’s title essentially demanded that he have an heir someday came into her head. Not that that meant she would be the one to provide that heir. That sort of commitment was not something they were anywhere near ready for, if they ever would be. Just the same, it was hard to imagine any other circumstance where she’d be a mother. “I believe it’s premature to count those chickens, Julian. The eggs have yet to be laid.”
“And you think I was counting these... chickens?” he asked, giving a short nod to the babe in Reilly’s arms.
He couldn’t say that he was unhappy with the twins. As strange a sensation it was, he thought he might love them. He wasn’t sure; the last time he remembered loving anyone had been at least ten years prior, before his grandparents had passed. For the first time in over a decade, he had family. After such a long time being without ties, it was an odd sensation still.
Penelope was a different story. But that was neither here nor there. At least not at the moment.
“Are you wishing an unexpected pregnancy on me, Julian?” Reilly asked, a slightly bemused smile on her face. “That’s rather unkind of you. I understand wanting someone to commiserate with, but I promise I can sympathize without the first hand experience.”
“I never claimed to be kind, amore mio. You are having far too much pleasure at my expense.” Only the slight glint in his green eyes belied his tone and words.
Looking down at the baby in her arms, a slight smile grew on her face. It was not natural for her, holding a tiny child, but the girl had quieted and it wasn’t unpleasant to have the warm little body snuggled against her. “Well, they’re attractive and likely to be too smart for their own good. Perhaps I’ll commiserate a little more when they’re able to act on those things.”
Julian nodded, thinking. “Likely you’re right.” Brushing the tip of his finger over Carter’s nose, he mused thoughtfully. “Attractive and intelligent. They’re most definitely my children.”
“Let’s hope they pick up a hint of humility, though being your children I won’t hold my breath for that.” Lips twitching, she shook her head. Why she couldn’t have friendships with men unless they were arrogant pains in the arse, she’d never know. “How are you getting along with their mother?”
“I’ve had easier times with women,” he admitted freely, glancing over at Reilly over his son’s downy hair. “I’ve agreed to meet her parents. So, I’m sure that will be a holiday for all involved.”
Reilly pulled a face. ‘Meet the parents’ was an awkward event at the best of times, much less when you’ve inadvertently procreated with a woman who set out to revoke your freedom. The situation was what it was, though. “I’m sure you’ll charm their pants off.” She smirked. “Rather like their daughter.”
He rolled his eyes. “Clever little Ravenclaw,” he retorted. “They’re Muggles, and I can’t imagine her telling them all about her secret shame.”
“I hate to break it to you, Julian dear, but the cat is out of the bag. The ‘shame’ stopped being a secret with the arrival of your two little angels.” She still didn’t quite know what to do with the baby or exactly how she felt about her friend’s transition into fatherhood, but Reilly wasn’t one to abandon someone she cared for. Whatever little help she could be, she would. “It’s good they’ll have you to impart a little common sense into their mother’s bookish teachings.”
That hadn’t been the ‘shame’ he’d been referring to, but he let it pass without comment. “You mean their mother’s moral teachings?”
Smiling, she shook her head. “No, though I imagine it’s best if the children get a balance of their parents’ moral compasses as well since one is far too rigid and the other perhaps just a little too lax. I simply meant that while Penelope is quite intelligent and able to understand all that is set before her in writing, you have likely learned more of those things which only life experience can teach.”
Julian’s lips twitched. “I’m no more morally lax than you are, principessa.” Glancing down at his sleeping son, he shifted him to his other arm and paused, waiting to see if he would stir.
“No small children are looking to me for guidance,” she countered, eyes twinkling. “No matter how many times you wish that weren’t the case.”
Turning his back on her, Julian crossed to his desk and settled into his leather office chair, Carter secured in the crook of his arm. “One day,” he muttered, shooting her happy expression a glare.
It was odd, but in spite of the grousing tone of his assertion, Reilly found she was rather touched that Julian seemed so certain she’d have a family ‘one day’. “Well, should that day come, I’m sure you’ll take great pleasure in my trials and tribulations.”
“You can be sure of it.”
And now, ‘normal’ included the two cribs in the corner of his office.
Penelope had an appointment in court and had dropped the twins off an hour prior. For the most part, they had slept soundly, only stirring when they’d been laid in the crib. He didn’t know how long he’d have them-- until the early evening, at the latest-- but until then, he quite enjoyed having them around. He missed enough as it was.
Stepping into the outer vestibule of Julian’s office, Reilly gave Dominique a polite smile. The woman was quite competent and patient enough to put up with Julian and Reilly actually rather liked her friend’s secretary, but chit chat had never been her forte.
“Good afternoon, Dominique. Is Julian available?” she asked.
The brunette glanced up with a pleasant smile on her face. “Oui, Madame. ‘E ees in ‘is office doing paperwork. You may go on in.” Reilly Chambers was one of the few people that Julian didn’t mind walking in without an appointment or being announced. She could count the number of people like that on one hand.
“Thank you,” Reilly said, already moving toward Julian’s office. With a light knock, she opened the door. It had been some time since she’d seen her friend. He’d had a lot going on with the arrival of his twin sprogs and she’d been tied up with her own domestic happiness. A visit was long overdue.
Waiting for him to lift his head with the usual minor irritation that came when he was distracted from a task without warning, her lips curled. “Hello, Daddy dearest. How are you?”
Julian quirked a brow, though his lips twitched. “Soldiering on. Your presence, as ever, has brightened my day considerably,” he said, setting the quill down. Rising from his seat, he crossed around the desk and took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back.
Reilly returned his kiss with one to his cheek before stepping further into the office. Her eyes fell on the two cribs against the wall and two well-shaped brows rose. “You bring them to your office? I’d think their mother would object to innocents in the den of iniquity.”
“Their mother had to be in court. She had no other choice.”
“I suppose,” she replied doubtfully. Peering in the tiny beds from a safe distance, Reilly tried to think of a suitable comment. Babies were completely foreign to her and she hadn’t yet begun to feel any inclination to change that. The bloody biological clock could tick away all it liked. “They’re very... small.”
Julian raised a brow. “Well, yes, they’re about two months old. That tends to run in infants,” he commented wryly. “But the ability to capture their prey with their prehensile tongues doesn’t kick in until the end of year one. So, you’re safe for the moment.”
Reilly cut a look at her former lover and shook her head. “Look who’s an expert now. Know all about babies, do you? Can you change a nappy in under a minute?” The thought of Julian powdering bums made her frown disappear. “You’re enjoying it, then? Parenthood?”
He gave a Gallic shrug. “As much as I can be, I suppose. And nappies are why I have elves.”
With a snort, she rolled her eyes. “Passing it off to the elves is cheating. Don’t you want to be a hands-on father?” Just then the boy child - judging by the blue of its blanket - let out a squawk. The noise startled the girl child and suddenly both were making very unhappy sounds.
“They smell fear, Reilly,” he said with his own eye roll. Crossing to the little bassinet, he reached down and picked up a squirming Carter, holding him against his shoulder. Glancing back towards his old friend, he arched a brow at her. “Come here and make yourself useful, since you scared them.”
“I did no such thing. It was just coincidental timing,” Reilly argued, though she went to the other crib and followed Julian’s action, resting the downy-haired baby against her shoulder and bouncing gently. A soft shushing sound came from her as she pat the little girl’s back. “If she spits up on me, you’re paying for my dry cleaning.”
Julian didn’t bother to dignify that with a verbal response, but exactly what he thought of her statement was written in the look he shot her over his son’s head. “I hope you know that I’m making notes of just how much fun you’re having at my expense. Just remember that someday, our roles will be reversed.”
A retort was on her tongue, but it died as the thought that Blake’s title essentially demanded that he have an heir someday came into her head. Not that that meant she would be the one to provide that heir. That sort of commitment was not something they were anywhere near ready for, if they ever would be. Just the same, it was hard to imagine any other circumstance where she’d be a mother. “I believe it’s premature to count those chickens, Julian. The eggs have yet to be laid.”
“And you think I was counting these... chickens?” he asked, giving a short nod to the babe in Reilly’s arms.
He couldn’t say that he was unhappy with the twins. As strange a sensation it was, he thought he might love them. He wasn’t sure; the last time he remembered loving anyone had been at least ten years prior, before his grandparents had passed. For the first time in over a decade, he had family. After such a long time being without ties, it was an odd sensation still.
Penelope was a different story. But that was neither here nor there. At least not at the moment.
“Are you wishing an unexpected pregnancy on me, Julian?” Reilly asked, a slightly bemused smile on her face. “That’s rather unkind of you. I understand wanting someone to commiserate with, but I promise I can sympathize without the first hand experience.”
“I never claimed to be kind, amore mio. You are having far too much pleasure at my expense.” Only the slight glint in his green eyes belied his tone and words.
Looking down at the baby in her arms, a slight smile grew on her face. It was not natural for her, holding a tiny child, but the girl had quieted and it wasn’t unpleasant to have the warm little body snuggled against her. “Well, they’re attractive and likely to be too smart for their own good. Perhaps I’ll commiserate a little more when they’re able to act on those things.”
Julian nodded, thinking. “Likely you’re right.” Brushing the tip of his finger over Carter’s nose, he mused thoughtfully. “Attractive and intelligent. They’re most definitely my children.”
“Let’s hope they pick up a hint of humility, though being your children I won’t hold my breath for that.” Lips twitching, she shook her head. Why she couldn’t have friendships with men unless they were arrogant pains in the arse, she’d never know. “How are you getting along with their mother?”
“I’ve had easier times with women,” he admitted freely, glancing over at Reilly over his son’s downy hair. “I’ve agreed to meet her parents. So, I’m sure that will be a holiday for all involved.”
Reilly pulled a face. ‘Meet the parents’ was an awkward event at the best of times, much less when you’ve inadvertently procreated with a woman who set out to revoke your freedom. The situation was what it was, though. “I’m sure you’ll charm their pants off.” She smirked. “Rather like their daughter.”
He rolled his eyes. “Clever little Ravenclaw,” he retorted. “They’re Muggles, and I can’t imagine her telling them all about her secret shame.”
“I hate to break it to you, Julian dear, but the cat is out of the bag. The ‘shame’ stopped being a secret with the arrival of your two little angels.” She still didn’t quite know what to do with the baby or exactly how she felt about her friend’s transition into fatherhood, but Reilly wasn’t one to abandon someone she cared for. Whatever little help she could be, she would. “It’s good they’ll have you to impart a little common sense into their mother’s bookish teachings.”
That hadn’t been the ‘shame’ he’d been referring to, but he let it pass without comment. “You mean their mother’s moral teachings?”
Smiling, she shook her head. “No, though I imagine it’s best if the children get a balance of their parents’ moral compasses as well since one is far too rigid and the other perhaps just a little too lax. I simply meant that while Penelope is quite intelligent and able to understand all that is set before her in writing, you have likely learned more of those things which only life experience can teach.”
Julian’s lips twitched. “I’m no more morally lax than you are, principessa.” Glancing down at his sleeping son, he shifted him to his other arm and paused, waiting to see if he would stir.
“No small children are looking to me for guidance,” she countered, eyes twinkling. “No matter how many times you wish that weren’t the case.”
Turning his back on her, Julian crossed to his desk and settled into his leather office chair, Carter secured in the crook of his arm. “One day,” he muttered, shooting her happy expression a glare.
It was odd, but in spite of the grousing tone of his assertion, Reilly found she was rather touched that Julian seemed so certain she’d have a family ‘one day’. “Well, should that day come, I’m sure you’ll take great pleasure in my trials and tribulations.”
“You can be sure of it.”