Kooks
Chapter Eight

Rating: PG
Category: AU
Pairing(s): Numerous. Some even make sense.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Rude meets his housemate, Marlene is getting strange phonecalls, and Toki has a surprise.
Notes:This mini-series picks up where ‘Awaken’ leaves off.

It had been two weeks since Rude had been assigned to watch over a failed Hojo experiment named Ronin, but as of yet Rude had not seen him, despite living in the creature’s house. He had been told that the thing apparently was brilliantly intelligent, experimenting with viruses to learn how to make beneficial versions. The house, furnishings, and all the creature’s needs were paid for by Shinra Industries; Rufus’s attempt to make amends to the creature for what it must have suffered as one of Hojo’s experiments.

Rude doubted Rufus would ever be able to make up for the sins of his father, but at least he was trying.

The house was very old, and rather dark. The halls were narrow, and many of the doors and walls were rice paper. They cast strange shadows, and although it was late morning on a beautiful sunny day, it may as well been midnight. What few windows there were in the house were draped with heavy curtains, and the silent house had a heavy, brooding atmosphere.

His cell phone rang, and he answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” purred Reno. “How’s life in the Bad Turk box?”

“Terrible,” said Rude. “Last night I soaked in the hot tub, and this evening I thought I’d do a few laps in the pool.”

“Sounds rough. So have you seen whatever it is you’re supposed to be guarding?”

“Not yet. But he’s got some big-ass pets. I’m finding fur from a Nibel Wolf all over, and feathers. BIG feathers. Chocobo sized.”

“Could be from him. Sephiroth grows wings.”

“Could be. At least he’s quiet. He grows bonsai trees too.”

“Well that should make you happy.”

Rude smiled faintly. “How are you?”

“Apart from everyone treating me like blown glass I’m fine. I mean I know there’s a problem, I know what to expect, we’re all prepared, I wish everybody would relax. But after this one I’m having the nanites turned off. At least the baby-making.”

“You should have Cloud…”

Reno hung up. Rude sighed and closed his phone. Reno was being coldly firm on the matter – he was not interested in hearing Rude bash his husband any more. He was done with the matter and from now on any time Rude opened his mouth to slight Cloud, Reno would vanish. Rude wished he could learn to like the man. Cloud had done everything he could to ensure Reno was happy and loved. Even Rufus admitted grudgingly that Cloud was a good and dutiful husband, and that his main issue with Cloud was that absolutely no one was good enough for his brother. He was going to have to learn to get along with Cloud. Otherwise he was going to lose his best friend. On the whole he would rather be Uncle Rude than Rude Who?

He heard the soft rustle of silk, and looked up, gazing down the long dark hallway. He saw a massive form walking away, carrying a lantern. The lantern did little more than cast what appeared to be a huge ominous shadow, and Rude had no idea what sort of horror it might be carrying the lamp. Chances were very good it was the creature he had been sent to protect.

“Sir?” he said.

The shadow paused. “Who are you? I do not know your voice.”

“Rufus sent me. My name is Rude.”

“Is it now? I am Ronin. If you wish to converse you had best follow.”

Rude followed after the creature, walking slowly behind it, trying to determine what it looked like. It seemed hulking and shapeless within the darkened hallway, and Rude could not help but be the smallest bit afraid. Hojo had created many, many monsters. A few were lovely. Most were horrifically ugly and mindlessly violent.

The creature opened a door and stepped into the room beyond. Rude caught a glimpse of black fur, but then the creature disappeared into the room before he could see much more. Rude walked in after it.

“Close the door,” the creature said.

Rude did, and the creature turned on the lights. They were standing in a library filled with an extensive collection of medical books. In here as with the rest of the house, the windows were blocked off with heavy drapes.

“Seat yourself. I will have tea brought in. You may read anything you like.”

“Thank you,” said Rude softly, speaking to the back of the large silk-shrouded lump before him.

The creature walked over to a great leather chair and removed the black silk wrap it was wearing. The shapeless lump became a tall, slender young man with enormous black wings and a long fox-like tail. Rude could not see his face; he kept his head turned away.

‘Definitely Hojo’s work,’ thought Rude, but said nothing. As a Turk it was not his place to make comments about the appearance of those he was looking after.

“Did you need me to help with anything?” Rude asked.

“Not unless you have working knowledge of how viruses mutate.”

Rude smiled faintly. “I was out sick the day they taught that.”

The creature was silent, carefully setting up his work space. Then he spoke.

“You haven’t mentioned the wings. Or the tail.”

“I used to work at Shinra Tower. Wings and tails don’t excite me.”

“So you have seen Hojo’s…. work.”

“Yes.”

“Then can I assume you will not find some excuse to quit before your time here is up?”

“I don’t quit. I’m a Turk. I’m a professional. And I don’t see anything here that frightens me.”

The creature looked over his shoulder at Rude. From the nose down, all was as a normal human face should be. But from the eyes up was the head of a Nibelheim wolf; as if he was wearing an exceptionally life-like wolf mask. The yellow eyes stared at Rude with unfathomable brilliance and intelligence, the large grey ears tipped back slightly. Rather than hair he had long thick grey fur. Then Rude noticed his hands to the elbow were gloved in short black silky fur, like the legs of a fox.

“I think you’re beautiful,” said Rude.

Ronin just stared for a very long time. It was clear he’d never heard anyone say those words to him before.

***---***

Cloud, Reno, Tifa, Pickles and Barret were seated at the breakfast table with Rufus and Reeve. Cloud had brought Reno up to visit with his over-anxious brother. Tifa and Barret had brought Marlene and her champion black chocobo to visit with Rufus’ female black chocobos. Pickles was just there to eat breakfast, watching with fond amusement as in the yard Darren tried to master riding a disagreeable nine foot tall Thanksgiving dinner. Lukis had yet to awaken – he didn’t do mornings.

“So how did you end up with two boyfriends?” asked Cloud.

Pickles shrugged. “Well I walked into a diner, took one look at Lukis and… that was it. I was in love. It was like… he owned me from that moment on. And… Lukis said the only way he could like me back was if his best friend Darren approved, so…”

“Sounds complicated,” said Barret.

“Was it love at first sight with Darren too?” asked Tifa, brown eyes large and shining.

“Uh… no. He did not like me, I definitely did not like him, Lukis said unless we learned to get along then we were both on the curb. So we… learned to get along.”

“At least Lukis can’t complain his boyfriend and best friend don’t get along anymore,” said Tifa.

Reno closed his phone with a sigh. “Wish I didn’t have that problem. What I wouldn’t give for one conversation with Rude that didn’t end with him ragging on Cloud.”

“Well there’s just so much to rag on,” said Rufus. “The hair, for instance.”

Reno sighed. “Rufus, please, I’m really not in the mood.”

“All right, I’m sorry. In all honesty I think you chose well when it came to picking a husband. I don’t hate Cloud. We just…”

“Have a comfortable friendship built on mutual animosity,” said Cloud.

“Well put, short-shit.”

“Thank you, pompous interfering blow-hard.”

Tifa giggled. “You two are so cute.”

“Well that’s not comforting in the least,” said Rufus. “You think Barret’s cute.”

“I am!” snapped Barret.

Rufus raised an eyebrow. “I stand corrected.”

Tifa giggled again, then looked up as she saw a forlorn figure drifting through the garden, holding a fuchsia shirt, eyes distant. Murderface walked over to a stone bench in the great garden and sat down, lost in his own heartbreak.

“Poor William,” said Tifa. “Someone should go talk to him.”

“Bad idea,” said Pickles. “Very, very bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Look I’ve been friends with Murderface for years. His grandmother raised him after his dad killed his mom with a chainsaw, and then himself when Murderface was about eight months old. And he saw it. He may not remember it, but he saw it. Losing Knubbler has to be dragging up a lot of shit for him and the last thing he’s gonna want to hear is all about how the sun will shine again one day.”

“That’s just silly. I’m going to go talk to him.”

Tifa rose from the table and left the bright room with its crystal windows just as Charles arrived, carrying Lydia and seeking breakfast. Rufus was watching Tifa march purposefully towards Murderface.

“Charles? How dangerous is Murderface?”

Charles tucked Lydia into a highchair and began preparing breakfast for her.

“I would classify Murderface as 98% posturing and 2% Hannibal the Cannibal. Why?”

“Because Miss Tifa is about to give him one of her little “be strong” speeches that worked ever so well on Cloud.”

Charles abruptly tore out of the kitchen and across the garden, managing to intercept Tifa before she reached Murderface. He caught her by the arms, and looked into her large brown eyes.

“Whatever you are going to say to him – don’t. Leave him alone.”

“I was just going to tell him to be strong and…”

Charles gently but firmly turned her around and began marching her back to the house.

“William does not need to be told to be strong right now. He needs to grieve.”

“But all this wallowing in self-pity is…”

Charles turned her around and looked into her eyes. “His boyfriend is dead. I’m sure you would be just tickled pink if Barret was lost in the stream somewhere and I marched up and told you to be strong and stop wallowing in self-pity.”

“But he’s….”

“He’s grieving. Let him grieve. Tifa I promise you if you go over there and start telling him to be strong, the sun will come out tomorrow, there’s other fish in the sea, or anything else of that nature, he will literally eat the flesh mask directly from your screaming skull before anyone can do anything about it. He’s never had anyone love him before. Chances are he never will again. In case you hadn’t noticed William is rather unpleasant. But Dick loved him. And William loved Dick. Now why don’t you start a butterfly collection or something, hmm?”

“He’s a man. Men need to be told to be strong.” Tifa crossed her arms and looked adamant. Charles opened his mouth to contradict her, and then thought better of it and closed his mouth.

“Fine. Whatever.”

Tifa marched past Charles and over to Murderface, who looked like his world had ended, the look in his yellow-green eyes one of utter desolation. Charles’ heart bled for him. It was true William was an asshole. There was very little about him that was redeemable. But for every human on the earth there was another who would love them unconditionally, and William had lost his one. If he was pretty and didn’t have the personality of a brain-damaged Cape Buffalo and the personal hygiene of a turd, there might be another great love some day.  But Charles wasn’t holding his breath. Even though when one dealt with William it was generally a good idea.

Charles watched as Tifa marched up to William and began talking. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he didn’t have to. Charles knew William well enough to read the expression in his eyes. William Murderface stared at Tifa with a dead expression, green eyes focused coldly as she chatted on and on and on about her personal views regarding how men should deal with grief.

The air became cold. Charles smelled a rank, fetid stench that could only mean one thing…

Tifa screamed as Murderface abruptly took on the visage of a grotesque, monstrous tiger and made straight for her face. Charles watched as she fled shrieking across the lawn, then sighed as he reached for his Dethphone.

“Badger? Can you and Simon please save Miss Lockheart from her own idiocy before William does something the local authorities will frown on?”

***---***

As Charles tried to round up William, Darren was giving up on the ‘space chicken’. The bird was just too distracted.

“Sorry,” said Marlene, holding the chocobo as Darren dismounted. “She can sense there’s a male near and her hormones are overriding her manners.”

“It’s okay,” said Darren. “I have to exercise Al anyway.”

“Al?”

“My horse.”

Marlene’s eyes became huge. “You have a horse?! Oh that’s so cool! You almost never see them here, they’re really rare. Can I see him?”

Darren shrugged. “Sure. C’mon.”

Marlene followed after Darren, a look of confusion crossing her pretty face. “Um… why are we going into Mr. Shinra’s house?”

“Al’s a bit… special.”

Al, also known as Alashet, was an Akhal-Teke stallion. And he was not merely any Akhal-Teke stallion; he was an international champion, with ribbons, plates, awards and trophies too numerous to count. Breeders paid three hundred thousand dollars for the privilege of having him mate with a mare. He was an enormous animal, a breathtaking example of his breed, and when he walked his metallic grey coat gleamed in the sun, and all the heavens bowed before his magnificence. Pickles had bought him for Darren as a courtship gift, presenting the rare and exotic animal to him. Darren took one look at the thin head, long neck, and over-all height, and asked Pickles the logical question.

“Why are you giving me a mutant giraffe?”

Alashet had arrived in the kopter along with Annie, who belonged to Lukis, and Cowboy, who was Pickles’ horse. The horses had been scraped and frightened when the kopter had been knocked over, but after a few bandages were fine. Cowboy and Annie had been perfectly happy to stay in a stall and munch hay, but Al was having none of it. Al was now stabled in a ground-floor room adjoining Pickles’ that had originally been an arboretum, where he had fresh running water, lots of room, plenty of sunlight, and his own Gears to harass. As Darren opened the door and stepped inside of the room, he was hit with a small canvas sack, which landed on his head and stayed there. For as long as he had owned Al, he had always imagined the creature speaking in the voice of Akhmed the Dead Terrorist.

‘Infidel! I am out of dates!’

Darren sighed and took the bag off his head. “Hello, Al.”

‘Silence! I keel you!’

“He’s so beautiful,” said Marlene. “Is he gentle?”

“Yeah he’s gentle,” said Darren. “He’s a total goof though. He’s kind of obsessed with dates and pockets, which is where people usually keep dates. Here, You can give him a few. Hello, Cowboy, what do you want? You want a date too? No you’re a normal horsie, you like normal horsie treats. Here. You have an apple.”

Cowboy accepted the apple, munching it. Then Marlene squeaked.

“Hey give my hair scrunchie back you big dork!”

Al carried the velvet scrunchie over to his feed bin and dropped it in, then pulled the lid closed.

“He steals,” said Darren dryly.

“Really. I had no idea,” Marlene raised the lid of the bin to claim her scrunchie. “Does he take anything else?”

“If he can pick it up he will take it. Then he will either hide it in his bin or toss it onto the light fixtures. Sometimes he just makes you chase him.”

Marlene giggled. “That’s so cute!”

“Yeah, especially at two in the morning.”

Marlene stroked the short soft fur on Al’s nose. “Where did you get him?”

“He was a present from Pickles. I mentioned I’d like to have a horse some day. I was thinking ‘horse’, y’know? Like Cowboy. Just a nice old quarter horse, or maybe a Morgan. Instead I get this stupidly expensive and rare horse with a serious attitude.”

“Oh you love him and you know it.”

“Who? Pickles or Al?”

“Both!”

“I do! I do love Al. And I love Pickles. But it’s dangerous to mention anything to Pickles because he’ll buy it for you. Like for example, Lukis is a candy-addict. Pickles could have just bought him a box of candy and Lukis would have been thrilled, but no, he comes home with the deed to a lollipop factory.”

“COOL!”

“Yeah try explaining it to your parents when you’re 18. “Hi mom, hi dad! You know that rock star you’re not sure you want hanging around your son and that kid who practically lives at your house? Yeah he bought me a million-dollar horse and Lukis a candy factory. Yeah I knew you’d be thrilled.” I thought Dad was gonna get the shotgun.”

“Yeah my Dad would probably explode,” said Marlene.

“It was kinda tense for a while. My dad’s still not too crazy about Pickles. My mom loves him though. And my sister is nuts about him. She gets to tell everyone her bother is dating the drummer from Dethklok.”

“Don’t you mean ‘brother’?”

“No she’s pretty sure I’m a bother not a brother.” Darren smiled as a small figure sidled up to him to nip his shoulder.

“Admit it,” said Pickles. “You only love me because you get to tell everyone the same thing.”

Darren kissed him. “What’s the point of dating a rock star if you can’t have bragging rights? Besides, you get to tell everyone you’re sleeping with Darren Morgan of Buttwash, Nebraska.”

“I do,” said Pickles, smiling. “Me an’ the guys are taking Murderface out for a pub crawl. Are you okay with me taking off?”

It was barely noon, but Darren was well familiar by now with Dethklok’s habits. “Sure. Is he okay?”

“Well he’s stopped staring blankly and begun crying, I’m assuming it’s an improvement. Me an’ Nathan are gonna take him out along with Zack and Angeal. Toki’s gonna stay here with Skwisgaar.”

Darren kissed him. “Have fun. I’ll tell Lukis when he finally wakes up.”

“Okay. Later babe.”

Darren watched his diminutive lover scoot out of the makeshift stable and off to join his waiting friends. Costa del Sol would never be the same.

Marlene’s phone rang, and she took it out of her pocket. “Hello?” She rolled her eyes. “You’re not my dad! Stop calling me, you dirty old pervert!”

Darren quickly snapped his attention to Marlene, brow knit in concern. "What the hell was that?"

Marlene sighed. “Some creep keeps calling me. He says he’s my dad and he wants to take me to meet my mom.”

"I thought Gun Arm Guy and Hot Mom were your parents."

Marlene tried not to smile, but a slight giggle escaped regardless. "Tifa and Barret took me in after my real parents were killed in a fire. They're my adoptive parents."

"Oh," Darren said. "Guess that's why you weren't born with a derringer on your wrist or something."

"You're terrible!" said Marlene, grinning. "Dad had that grafted on after one of President Shinra's underlings shot his arm off. Poor Rufus. He's the only guy I know of who gets to hear people use his last name as a swear word. It's not his fault his dad was an evil bastard." She petted Cowboy's nose. "Anyway I don't know who that jerk is who keeps calling but he's not my dad."

"You should tell your parents," Darren firmly advised.

"They'll just get upset," said Marlene. "It's just some jerk, why should I worry them?"

"Because some creep with your number's gonna become a creep following you home from school real fast. And from there it's just a step to a creep waiting for your parents to leave."

Marlene sighed. "Fine. I'll tell them tonight after dinner. Dad's always more relaxed after dinner and I don't want him freaking out in front of Reno." She kissed Cowboy's nose. "Wanna show me how to ride a horse?"

Darren drew a slow, steadying breath, having dealt extensively with a little sister who made agreements she had no intention of keeping in order to get her big brother off her back. But Marlene wasn't his sister, and he had no right to push her.

"Alright. But just to be safe, you'll ride Annie. Cowboy's been hanging out with Al too much lately and I think it's rubbing off on him."

Cowboy proved Darren’s point by throwing Al's date-bag at him. Cowboy didn't like dates, he just thought it was fun to throw things. Al walked over to Darren to lip at his hair. Marlene smiled at the elegant black English Hunter that was Lukis’ horse.

"Okay. I'll ride Annie. But if we see any cute boys out riding they're mine. I don't mind not getting the guy but around here there is just WAY too much competition."

 "Dood," said Darren, wincing as he realized he was picking up on Pickles’ mannerisms, "I've already got two, I sure as hell don't need another."

"Well then share! I don't have any because they all take one look at Dad and run away. And once Baby and Zack were over visiting and I thought poor Yoshi was gonna pee himself! I'm never gonna get married. I'm gonna be a crazy old chocobo lady."

Marlene's phone rang once more, but she turned it off. She was done with this jerk, whoever he was. She watched as Darren showed her how to put Annie’s bridle on.

***---***

Cloud and Reno spent the day at Rufus’ Manor, eventually arriving home when it was time for Kin to go to sleep at around 8:30. Cloud tucked her into her little bed, then went to his own room to find Reno on the bed, trying to get comfortable.

“Sore, babe?”

“Yeah a little. How’s Kin?”

“Asleep. Exhausted. How about you?”

Reno slowly rolled onto his back, closing his eyes. “We are definitely not doing this again. I feel too much like I did when I was dying. I’m nauseous, I’m weak, I’m losing weight like mad…” He sighed loudly. “I can’t work like this.”

Cloud seated himself on the bed, reaching out to touch Reno’s long red hair. “It’s just until the baby is born.”

“I’m gonna go insane nailed to this bed.”

“We can find you something to do, okay? Why don’t you learn to paint? You always wanted to.”

Reno groaned. “I’m gonna die of boredom, I know it.”

Cloud smiled and kissed him. “How about model-making?”

“Kin will want to help. For that matter she will want to help with the painting too.”

Outside came a low rumble of thunder, distant and muted. Reno closed his eyes. “Great. Thunder.”

“You never told me why you hate storms.”

“I don’t believe I ever told you anything about myself. Everything you know came from Rufus.”

“I can’t say I wouldn’t like to know more about you.”

“That would involve me having to think about past shit. And I’m not doing it.”

“Reno…”

“Cloud I don’t wanna talk about it. Okay? I love you, and we’re happy together. What does all the other shit matter?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cloud. “It just worries me that… you’ve been hurt so badly you can’t bear to talk about it.”

Reno raised a finger and pressed the end of Cloud’s nose. “You were going to heat up the leftover spiced fish soup we have in the fridge for me.”

“I was?”

“Yup. I heard you say so.”

Cloud leaned down to kiss him. “Well I can’t very well refuse you, can I?”

Cloud left to heat the soup. Reno rolled onto his side and gazed out the window and into the darkness at the encroaching storm.

***---***

Toki crept silently into Charles' bedroom at three am, lowering himself to creep across the carpet on all fours, eventually ending up at nose level with the bed, peering at Charles as he slept.

"Charlies? You awake?"

Charles bolted upright, his unfocused, half-asleep brain automatically running through the possibilities for being forced to consciousness at such an hour.

"What is it? Who's dying? What's on fire?"

Nathan grunted and rolled over, mumbling something in his sleep. Toki motioned for Charles to be quiet.

"Nots so louds! No one ons fire. Just wanteds to shows you somet'ing."

Charles squinted blearily at Toki. "Toki? Wha? ...Why are you on the floor?"

Huge blue eyes blinked at Charles from across the mattress. "Because I didn't wants gets punched in da nose if you wakes up scared."

"Oh. That's good, Toki. Excellent foresight."

Nathan mumbled in his sleep - something about blue gerbils with laser beams. Toki tugged at Charles' hand.

"Come on Charlies!"

"Okay, okay..." Charles had time enough to grab his glasses from the nightstand and make sure he was wearing pants before Toki dragged him from the bed and into the hall. "Now what is this all about?

"You see!"

Toki led Charles through the great dark and silent halls of Shinra Manor to his own room. Standing in the hallway outside the door was Cid, looking tired, unshaven and displeased. In other words, like he normally did. He was holding two cups of coffee, one of which he offered to Charles.

"Thought you might need this." He then looked to Toki. "Okay kid, what's this all about?"

Smiling broadly, Toki pushed the door open. Sitting there, looking vaguely annoyed, holding his baby with one hand and a bottle with the other as he glowered at the intruders, was Skwisgaar.

"Nevers realize is so bigs deal feedings baby,” he grumbled.

Charles stared. "Skwisgaar, you're... you're sitting up! You're... holding the baby! You're... you're indignant and arrogant! You're better!"

"No he still pretties sick," said Toki, walking into the room. "But nots like he was. He nots bleedings from nowheres no more! Nots evens da..."

"Toki is you evers hearings phrase 'too much skin-formations'?" Skwisgaar asked.

"Oh Charlies nots cares abouts dat."

"I DOES!"

Charles raised his hand. "Charlies cares, too."

"Oh I'm always up for a good bleeding anus tale, especially at three-twenty in the morning," said Cid, yawning.

"Oh come ON!" said Toki, his voice reaching that pitch that indicated he was getting annoyed. "LOOKS at dis! He sittings up! He nots bleedings from nowhere! You can't bes excited 'bouts dis?"

"Toki," said Cid. "We are excited. Honestly. We're just a little tired and dazed." He walked over to Toki and hugged him gently. "We're damned glad he's okay. And I can't wait until he's up and being snotty to everyone."

"I can bes snotties rights now if you likes," said Skwisgaar.

"That would be very sweet of you, Skwisgaar. And we are very pleased to see you sitting up. It’s a vast improvement on how you looked a few days ago” Charles approached the bed, smiling down at little Klas. "Look at you. Are you happy your mother is better, hmm?"

Klas had a bottle, and that was all Klas was concerned about. He stared at the device cross-eyed as he sucked milk, wearing tiny socks that once belonged to Kin on his waving feet. Charles gasped with mock horror as he noticed the socks, gently grabbing Klas' tiny feet with his thumbs and index fingers.

"Oh, no! What did they put on your feet? Socks? Those monsters! Who has little feet, hmmm? That's right! You do!”

Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, then glanced at Cid, who had one eyebrow raised.

"So how longs untils you t'inks befores Butlers-Man gots anothers ins da oven?"

"I give him two months tops," said Cid.

Charles blithely ignored them. "Who has little feet, hmmm? Who has little waving feet?"

Klas broke off feeding to interact with Charles, holding his feet up.

"Yes, I see your feet. They're very hard to miss."

"Six weeks," said Cid.

"More likes as soon as Nat'ans wakes up," said Toki.

"We should starts a bettingks pool," said Skwisgaar.

Klas waved his feet and screeched. Skwisgaar turned grey briefly, but held down his dinner.

"Whoops. Time to settle down." Charles left off playing with Klas' feet and reacquainted him with his bottle. "Let's be quiet for mommy, hmm?"

Toki deftly took the baby as Skwisgaar seemed to sink, holding Klas close. Cid helped Skwisgaar to lie down, just as Nathan wandered in wearing only his shorts.

"Since when is it okay to steal my husband in the middle of the night? Hey Skwisgaar, you're not bleeding out your eyeballs anymore. It was an awesome look."

"Ja buts ats least I can sits up now. Butler-Man wants you to gets him pregnants again."

Nathan grinned. "I can get with that."

"I never said that." Despite his words, Charles left the bedside to wrap his arms around one of Nathan's and lean his head on his shoulder. "You didn't have to get up. I'm sorry we woke you."

"I just opened my eyes and you were gone. I was scared Skwisgaar had died so I came to see if everything was okay. I mean he's my friend too."

"You saids you wouldn'ts tell," mumbled Skwisgaar.

Nathan walked over to Skwisgaar and seated himself on the bed, touching the long hair. "You okay?"

"I's doings better. Tired now t'ough."

"Okay. You sleep. Keep getting better." Nathan stood up and took Klas from Toki. "We'll be stealing this. Who's wearing widdle socks? Huh? Who’s got widdle socks? YOU DO!"

Klas shrieked delightedly.

"We're stealing the baby?" Charles asked, perking up in interest.

Nathan looked to Toki questioningly. Klas squealed and waved his feet. Toki sighed quietly.

"Seems likes Klas wantings to play, so ja you is can steals baby for a while. I looks afters mama."

"Okay," said Nathan.

"Hey," said Cid. "I get stealing privileges later, I am his grandpa!"

Klas shrieked. Charles moved to take Klas from Nathan. "Ahh, stolen baby. Almost as good as stolen pie."

"Wanna steal a couple of twins?" said Cid.

Klas poked both feet straight up and squealed. Skwisgaar began to gag.

"Come on," said Nathan, refusing to hand over Klas. "Let's get this bean out of here before he kills his mama."

"All right, but I get to hold him later." Charles looked back to Skwisgaar and Toki. "You two rest. We'll take good care of him."

Nathan, Cid and Charles stepped into the hallway. Klas waved his socks and burped as Vincent walked up to look at the tiny baby, awakened by the commotion.

"Let's make another," said Cid.

"No. We have three, ages seven and two."

"But you love kids!"

"I'm less of a fan of morning sickness and juggling toddlers. He is cute though. Hello tiny baby."

"Why is he making faces like that?" asked Nathan.

Klas poked out his tongue, crossed his eyes and loudly filled his diaper. Nathan promptly handed him off to Charles.

"Yes, thank you, Nathan." Charles accepted the soiled infant, bravely holding him close and marching off with his head held high. "Come, Klas. Let us search for talcum powder and fresh pants."

Nathan followed after Charles as Cid carried Vincent off with the intent of doing dirty things to him. Charles hastened Klas to the changing table set up in their bathroom, hoping to get him changed before he became aware enough of his condition to cry.

"Here we go, little guy, let's just... Wow. How did you do this? It's bigger than you are."

"Well now we know he's Skwisgaar's," said Nathan. "Only Skwisgaar's kid could be that fulla shit." He looked up as he heard Lydia start to squeak and complain. "Okay you deal with the little one and I'll deal with the bigger one."

"Tell the bigger one Mommy loves her."

Nathan walked into the next room. "Oh... Lydia.... that's.... really.... uh.... oh man. I am so gonna make you pay for this later in your life. Okay. Uh... let's just sit you in a tub and hose you down. Then we're gonna have a word with Uncle Toki about letting you eat gravlax before bed."

Charles had Klas clean and was snapping him into a fresh diaper when Nathan came in with Lydia. "I have told that man to stop feeding our daughter fish,” said Charles.

"Yeah well we're gonna have to enforce it. Rufus is gonna have a fit when he sees what Lydia did to that antique crib. Uh, I guess she's sleeping with us tonight." Nathan gazed at Klas, who was quickly falling asleep.

They had all been present at the birth. They knew Skwisgaar had eaten a portion of the placenta; the proof was Klas. But for the life of him Nathan had no idea who else had eaten a portion. Most of the event was a murky blur, seen through the eyes of a Sumerian demon.

"Wonder who else in the band is a potential mom-to-be?" he mused quietly.

***---***

Darren, clad in a bathrobe and slippers, stared at Pickles, arms crossed in disapproval.

“Do you know what time it is, young man?”

“Haven’ a clue!” said Pickles happily. “I’m drunk.”

“Thanks for the update, I’ll be sure to post it to the Dethklok Minute. What the hell were you doing?”

“The last thing I clearly remember was me an’ Zack in the park looking for hedgehogs to determine whether or not they could be buggered. After that it gets a little blurry.”

“Well I’m glad you had fun.”

“Yup,” said Pickles, weaving visibly. “I’m gonna go puke now.”

“You do that.”

Darren watched fondly as Pickles staggered off to the bathroom. Alashet watched as well, peeking over the top of the split door that separated “his” room from the one Darren shared with Lukis and Pickles. Darren sighed as Alashet threw his date-bag at him, the small sack landing on his head.

“What do you want, you big asshole? It’s late. You should be asleep.”

Alashet wanted dates, and resorted to extortion; when he got dates then Pickles got back his framed photo of his deceased husband Daniel. Alashet snapped up the small object from the dresser and retreated into his room. Darren was horrified.

“Al, what the hell?! Give that back, you klepto! That's Pickles'!”

Al put the photo in his feed bin, blithely unaware of the fact that Pickles would be shattered if the picture was damaged. Cowboy made a low sound, swishing his tail and letting Alashet know he was being a dick again. Darren hurried after the horse, following the large animal to his temporary stable.

“I'm serious, Al, this isn't funny! Some things are important to people, and you can't keep grabbing them!”

Al curled his lips back to give Darren a big horsey smile, having proved his superiority yet again, then closed the lid on the bin, swishing his tail. Darren rolled his eyes.

“Oh, no. However will I get it back? ...Oh, yeah. Like this.”

Alashet watched Darren head for the bin, then oh so casually walked away, leaving the room. He nudged the upper and lower portions of the door shut, and then slipped the bolts in place, securing Darren in the room with Cowboy. The massive animal then got onto the bed and curled up, taking care to miss Lukis’ sleeping form. All was now as it should be. Alashet pulled the covers over himself and Lukis and put his head down on the pillow just as Darren was noticing the horse was gone and the door was closed.

“Oh, what the hell?” Darren walked to the door and tried it, finding it locked. “OH FUCK YOU, AL!! YOU OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW, I AM NOT KIDDING!”

Al turned an ear but did not get up. He had no idea what Darren was so upset about. Friends slept over all the time. Darren was clearly over-reacting. Eventually Pickles came out of the bathroom to find out what all the yelling was about. Wearing a bathrobe, he stumbled over to the stable door.

"Darren how did you lock yourself in?"

“I didn't lock myself anything! The fucking horse locked me in!”

Pickles just stared. "The horse locked you in? The... horse?" Pickles looked around. The room was dark and he was too loaded to notice that Lukis appeared to be taking up far more bed than usual. "How did the horse lock you in? There's no horse here."

“Whadda ya mean, what horse? AL! Fuckin' Al! He stole your picture, and when I came in to get it, he went out and locked me in!”

"How the hell would a horse know how to lock a door? And where did he go? Are you sure you're not high?"

“For the love of FUCK, Pickles, just let me out of here! Fuck!”

Pickles opened the door, then stepped aside. "See? No horse."

Darren stomped out of the room and looked around. Spying the gigantic lump in the bed, Darren marched over to it and pulled back the covers. Pickles stared.

"DOOD!" said Pickles. "LUKIS TURNED INTO A HORSIE!"

Darren sighed. “Maybe you should lie down, Pickles.”

"I can't lie down at a time like this! He needs a doctor! He can't go to college if he's a horse, what'll the teachers say? How will he do his homework? He'll never play the drums again and your parents will think it's my fault!"

“Oh for fuck's sake, Pickles, Lukis is sleeping next to the horse!”

Pickles just stared. "DOOD! That's... way too kinky for me. I mean if it's Lukis thing then he shoulda discussed it with us first."