"Yes, I know," he admitted with a worried frown. They'd been over all this already, and he knew what to expect, but he also knew how easily things could go wrong. "I just want everything to go well," he told her, taking both her hands in his and looking very much like the Captain she'd once fallen in love with. He had recovered all of those memories months ago, melding with those of his contemporary self - the soldier meshing with the lawyer - two souls combining to make one. Both of them had loved her, but now there was only one. In that moment, he was more the Captain than the lawyer, worried that something would go wrong.

Looking into his eyes, she remembered the year they had spent together when all she had known of him was the ghost he had been. All the heartache, how hard it had been to convince him that she was steadfast and true enough to break the curse of his un-life. She could understand why he was so worried that something might go wrong; she had lost him once, and she would never wish that on him, ever. "Everything is under control," she promised him faithfully. "Ellen will be here soon, and if she says so, we will go to the hospital. She won't let anything go wrong if she can possibly help it, love. And I'm just as scared as you are, I promise. I'm just being unnaturally calm for once."

"At least one of us is," he admitted with a smile, leaning in to press a quick kiss to her lips before moving to his feet. Whenever there was a crisis, the English dealt with it first by making tea, and today was no exception. "Is this a bad time to discuss names?" he asked, as he filled the kettle with water.

She laughed, easing back in her seat as she gently rubbed her hand over the low rise of her bump. "We have to fill the time somehow," she pointed out warmly. "What did you have in mind?" Not that they hadn't discussed names before, but they'd failed to reach a consensus ....usually because Kit tended to either fall asleep, or completely derail his line of thought.

He didn't really mind her derailing him, but it was something they had to decide sooner or later. "I was thinking perhaps Katharine, if it's a girl," he suggested as he put the kettle on. Obviously, it wasn't a name for a boy. On that, he was a little undecided.

Her smile softened as he suggested her grandmother's name for a daughter of theirs. Katharine Clarke had been influential in both their lives, after all, but Kit had another name to suggest, too. "I like that idea," she agreed with him. "But I'd like it, if we have a girl, to call her Katharine Isabelle, if you don't mind it too much."

Fortunately, his back was turned to her at that moment as he went about taking down cups and preparing the tea. He wasn't sure how he felt about that suggestion. Isabelle had been the Captain's wife, but it had been her betrayal that had led him to end his own life and her curse that had sentenced his soul to be trapped in the house. All that was over now though - both of them had forgiven each other and been freed of the curse. He only wished her peace. "Are you sure that's the name you want for our daughter?"

"I think it deserves another outing, a happier life to be attached to," she said softly. "I would never ask for it to be her first name, Rand. But without Isabelle, we would never have met, we wouldn't be having a baby. I hated her once, but not anymor-" She bit off the last word as another contraction made itself known, whimpering out a minor curse while her hands clenched on the table. Moments later, the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the midwife.

"We were happy once," he told her, quietly, not wanting to get lost in those memories - memories that sometimes felt like his and sometimes felt like someone else's. He turned, hearing the pain in her voice, even as she tried to hide it. He and Isabelle had never had much of a chance at happiness. They certainly hadn't been blessed with a child. What he'd had with Isabelle paled in comparison to what he had with Kit. Perhaps it just had never been meant to be. He looked from her to the door, hearing the doorbell announcing the midwife's arrival, just as the kettle went off. "Kit, love ....Are you all right?" he asked, going down on a knee in front of her and ignoring both kettle and doorbell for the moment.

Eyes squeezed shut as she breathed through the discomfort, Kit nodded, one hand rising to gesture for him to get the door before Ellen panicked and called for the police and an ambulance. Her breath left her in a whoosh. "I'm fine ....door ..."

He nodded, his face full of concern. "I won't be a moment," he promised, kissing her temple as he moved to his feet. He paused a moment to turn off the kettle before starting toward the door, only then noticing the changes she'd made to the parlor in preparation for their child's birth.

Several layers of duvet and quilt had been turned into a comfortable area to lie or sit, covered with plastic sheeting and then covered again with a series of old towels and sheets. Fresh clothes were to hand, not to mention the birthing kit Ellen had dropped off weeks before so she'd have it to hand whenever the birth occurred. Just as well they didn't use the parlor as much as the living room, or it might have seemed a little awkward to realize that there was going to be blood, amniotic fluid, and other all over the floor in the not too distant future.

At the door, Ellen gave him a wide grin. "Hello, Randal," she greeted him confidently. "How is it all going?"

He opened the door to let her in, that look on his face saying it all. "Her contractions are about five minutes apart, I think," he said, in answer to her question, whether that was what she'd been asking or not. "Can I take your coat?" he asked, remembering his manners, as he let her into the house and closed the door behind her.

"Thank you." Allowing Rand to take her coat from her, the midwife set her bag down beside the door, warming her hands briefly. "How are you doing?" she asked him pointedly. "You've been anticipating this for weeks, and you're a little overdue, after all. No panics?"

"Panic" Heavens, no. Why would we panic?" he asked, purposely turning his back to her so he could hang up her coat and she couldn't see the guilty look on his face. What did he have to panic about' They were just about to have a baby, that was all! "She's in the kitchen," he told her, wishing she'd go check on Kit and stop fussing over him.

"I see." The amusement in Ellen's voice likely didn't help much with his sense of nerves, but she headed in the right direction, slipping into the kitchen to greet Kit warmly. "Hello, Katrina," she smiled, taking a seat at the table with Kit. "How are you feeling?"

Kit drew in a slow breath before answering. "Mostly I'm all right," she admitted. "The contractions haven't got any closer together, but they're becoming consistently about a minute long now."

"Good, that's good news," Ellen assured her. "What happens now is a quick internal exam, just to see how far you're dilated, and then we'll work out what happens next. The midwife who'll be joining me later is called Amy; she's very experienced with home births."

Rand closed the front door and followed Ellen into the kitchen feeling very much like the third wheel in this home birthing experience. He had already done his job during conception, and now it seemed all he could do was wait around while the women did the rest. He knew he was needed for moral support, but not much else, and he felt more than a little useless. But he could, at least, make tea. "I was just making some tea," he interjected helpfully, as he moved over to the counter where he'd left the cups.

"Oh, a cup of tea would be lovely," Ellen smiled to him. "How are you both coping with the contractions so far?" The question was addressed to both of them, since it was a team effort to birth a baby, no matter what Rand might think at the moment.

Kit grimaced a little. "My back is starting to cramp as they get longer," she admitted, glancing guiltily at Rand. "But it only started during the last couple of contractions!"

Predictably, he swung a concerned glance at Kit, just in time to see the guilty expression on her face. "How long will it take before the baby is born?" he asked, though he knew it was likely to take hours. He took down a third cup and went about preparing the tea, in good part out of a lack of useful things to do.

The laughter seemed to have relieved some of the tension, as they were both smiling as the next contraction made itself known. Rand linked his fingers with hers, breathing along with her, if only to give her moral support. "Good, Kit," he encouraged. "Just breath, nice and slow." He arched a brow at Ellen, but made no remark. She knew best, after all.

Still smiling, despite the contraction that had stolen her breath, Kit positively beamed at the praise from her husband as she surfaced. She had always been easy to please, after all. "Everything is set up in the parlor," she told Ellen. "I guess this is where I do a striptease."

Laughing, Ellen rose to her feet. "Do feel free," she teased them back. "I'll get my bag and wash my hands. Be with you in a couple of minutes."

"You don't have anything I haven't seen already," Rand teased Kit, offering her an arm to help her to her feet. "Easy, I've got you," he told her, as Ellen disappeared from view.

Easing up onto her feet, Kit hugged herself into his side. "I'm glad you're here," she murmured softly. "I shouldn't have made you go to work. I've been a bit scared on my own today." It took a lot for her to admit to a mistake, but it spoke volumes about their relationship that she was able to do it at all.

"I'm here now, love," he replied, in a soft tone of voice he saved just for her. Now that he was there, he wasn't going anywhere. Inside, he was scared, too, mostly for her, but he had to be brave now, for her sake. "In a few hours, we're going to meet our son our daughter, and we're going to be a family." Saying it out loud didn't make it any easier for him to believe. All of this was so incredible sometimes he wondered when he'd wake up to find it had only been a dream.

She closed her eyes, leaning into him a moment longer before straightening up. "All right, then," she said, her voice stronger now she'd admitted to needing him more than she'd let him know. "You need to help me get out of my dungies."

"I think I can do that," he admitted with a smile, before helping her into the parlor where she had everything ready. He was careful and gentle while he helped her undress, moving as slowly and cautiously as needed and stopping when she needed him to stop so she could breathe through a contraction. It took a little doing, but between them, she was soon out of her dungarees and more comfortably dressed in a t-shirt and panties, just enough to keep her modestly covered.

By the time Ellen rejoined them, there had been another contraction and a lot of giggling as they maneuvered Kit out of her dungarees, and it only took a moment to get her down onto the soft collection of quilts to let Ellen take a look. As the midwife lifted Kit's t-shirt, however, she laughed, forcing herself to calm down before examining the now blushing mother who had a large smiley face drawn on her bump.

Was it any wonder they were giggling, seeing as how Rand had had no idea Kit had drawn that smiley face there on her bump until he'd helped her undress and seen it for himself. It was his turn to give her a moment of privacy, however. As Ellen went about examining her, he went about making himself a little more comfortable, as he was still dressed in a business suit and tie.

Boredom did lead his merry tempered wife to do some ridiculous things, but decorating her bump on the day she gave birth was definitely up there with the best of them. She'd even taken a picture of it earlier. By the time Rand returned to the parlor, Ellen was on the phone, and Kit was all but bouncing with renewed excitement. "I'm fully dilated!" she declared to her husband happily. "We don't have to wait so long now!"

"Fully dilated"!" he echoed in obvious surprise. Though it was rare for Rand to dress down, even at home, he had changed into jeans and a t-shirt, arms bare, his hair a little mussed from changing. If she was right, it shouldn't take long before the real fun began. "How do you feel?" he asked, taking her hand.

"Excited," she informed him through a bright smile. "Although Ellen says I'm not allowed to go wandering around any more. She's calling Amy, but we'll start before she gets here, apparently." Who would have thought that the twitchy energy she exhibited every day would have been so beneficial to keeping her upbeat over the tiring course of labor"

"Doesn't the baby decide that?" he asked, curiously. Or rather, he assumed her body would know what to do next to birth the baby inside her. He didn't think they had much control over what happened next, other than to work with the contractions to push the baby out.

"Well ....I can start pushing," Kit amended her suggestion, and abruptly groaned, rolling over onto her side as a fresh contraction made itself known. She didn't push, too afraid to go that far without Ellen there to tell her to, but she did grip Rand's hand tightly.

Alarmed by the groan and the grip to his hand, Rand wasn't quite sure what to do, his expression turning serious. "Kit, don't hold back," he told her, thinking if her instinct was to push, she should probably push. "Ellen!" he called, loudly enough for her to hear him. "I think you should get in here!"

"Next time, you can be the pregnant one," Kit groaned quietly as Ellen hurried in. The midwife smiled faintly at the concerned husband, moving to comfort them both. Fully dilated Kit might be, but it was still going to take a while before there was a third member of the family to distract them.

Rand chuckled at that remark, knowing it was not only impossible, but that he'd make a horrible woman - at least, in his opinion. "Next lifetime maybe," he teased back, though he wasn't sure if he believed in that sort of thing or not, despite all the weirdness in his life. For the next hour or so, though, he could be nothing but the supportive expectant father.

Luck, however, seemed to be on the Nichols' side, or perhaps it was a last gift to atone for the tragedy of Randal's ghostly existence, but within an hour, a thin wail broke the sweaty, tense quiet surrounding the quartet on the floor of the parlor. Kit laughed at the grumpy sound, relaxing back against Rand as she absorbed that the worst was over. "Goodness, what a voice," she chuckled weakly. "Definitely your daughter."

Nervous as he was, Rand did his best to offer her encouragement and support as much as possible, holding her up while she pushed and rubbing her back and shoulders, until they were at last rewarded with a tiny, mewling infant. "What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, with a chuckle as he craned his head to see whether it truly was a boy or a girl.

"It's a girl," Amy told them warmly, taking a moment to do the checks and clean the little girl up as Ellen dealt with what was left to do with Kit. This was why there were two midwives - one for the baby, one for the mother, just in case. Kit groaned her way through another contraction, though nowhere near as painful as the others had been, but this time, Rand was the one to be distracted as Amy handed him the scissors. "Time to cut the cord, Papa."

It seemed they got their wish and had a girl, which was probably a good thing since Horatio was not really a suitable name for a son. "Congratulations, Mama," he whispered to Kit before touching a kiss to her cheek as he looked around her to get his first look at their daughter. He smiled as he took the scissors and severed the final connection that tethered their daughter to her mother. "Welcome to the world, Katie," he whispered, already shortening her name to the more familiar form. They'd debate that later, perhaps, but it felt right to name her Katharine.

"Two years," she murmured softly. She could understand the confusion, though. A little under a year ago, she had been wallowing in grief, lost without the ghost she had known and loved for a full year before that, when the man that ghost had merged with had appeared on her doorstep, soaked to the skin and with no idea of who she was. She smiled, kissing his shoulder fondly. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

"It feels like a lifetime," he remarked quietly, a small frown on his face at the confusion. It wasn't unusual for him to get confused about dates and events, with two separate lives and sets of memories merged into one. Sometimes he wasn't sure which were his and which belonged to the ghost. "We have indeed," he replied, not even sure which of him was replying, or maybe it was both of them.

"It does," she nodded, kissing his cheek once again. "And nothing has changed, not the important things. I love you, I love our home, and we have a daughter to raise together. I think maybe we really have broken that curse, well and truly smashed it. No one is going to take any of this away from you, love, I promise."

"No," he replied softly in agreement, blinking back tears once again as the full impact of their daughter's birth caught up with him. "I won't let them," he said, his voice crackling with emotion. Not Isabelle, not her mother, no one was going to take their happiness away from them now that they'd found it - he wouldn't allow it. "You hear that, Katie?" he asked their infant daughter quietly, with a gentle caress of her cheek. "You're stuck with us now, for better or worse."

The baby girl blinked up at him, her head turning toward the caress of his fingers against her cheek, her mouth opening to instinctively search for something to suck, since her own fingers had proved so very disappointing in that regard. Kit smiled, nestling closer in beside her husband and child. "We won't let them," she told him softly. "We're a team."

Rand smiled softly at his wife, blue eyes wet with happy tears. "We're a family," he corrected her, though he got her point. It had been a long time since he'd been part of a family and even longer for the good Captain that shared his heart and mind and body. It seemed important somehow that he made that point clear. "Would it sound too corny if I told you how happy I am?"

"I don't think it would, not at all," Kit assured him through her grin. "I am, after all, ecstatically delighted and all round delirious with splendiferous happification." She winked at him, her eyes drawn down to the baby in his arms, who was beginning to screw her face up with the threat of tears. "Uh-oh ....what do we do, quick?"

He chuckled back at her. "That is corny, but I shan't hold it against you." He followed her gaze to the tiny baby in his arms, instinctively rocking her in his arms in hopes of consoling her. "Is it too soon to feed her?" he asked. "Oh, don't cry, little one," he whispered softly. "There's no reason to cry. I see the moon, the moon sees me. God bless the moon, and God bless me," he started softly singing, unsure where the words or tune came from, some part of him remembering it from somewhere. Perhaps the Captain had heard her grandmother singing it to Kit when she was little, or perhaps it was Rand's mother who had sung it to him when he was a boy. It wasn't the first time she'd heard him sing. After all, the Captain was an accomplished pianist.

Whatever had been bothering the tiny girl seemed to lull away as she was rocked, the threat toward tears easing from her expression as Rand sang to her, subsiding into yawning adoration as her lips smacked once again. Kit laid her head on Rand's shoulder, moving with him as he rocked their daughter, humming the same lullaby along with him. She had often heard him sing, and she remembered this lullaby from her own childhood. It was fitting, somehow, that Katharine's lullaby should work so well on her great-granddaughter, named for her.

He knew singing a lullabye wasn't always going to appease her. He knew raising a child was going to be hard work, but he wasn't in this alone. The fact was he was never going to be alone again - not so long as he had his wife and daughter beside him. That part of him that was the Captain silently thanked Isabelle and Katharine and hoped they were pleased and proud of them and of the tiny daughter he and Kit had named for them.

At long last, the dark cloud that had hung over the Captain was replaced with sunshine, in the form of the smile the man he had become wore, sandwiched lovingly between the woman who had loved him enough never to give up, and the child born of that love. Never again would Randal Nichols despair of finding a happy ending. He was living it.