In a house where the ruling queen bee was a small half-Fae mischief-maker, moments free from the all-consuming quest to keep her amused and not experimenting with her unique talents were few and far between. On those rare occasions when she went to a friend's house to play or visited with members of Des' sprawling family, her parents were apt to take advantage of that time in whatever way they could. Today, Lyneth had expressed a fervent desire to go and visit Gabi and the twins, and with an amenable Gordon happy to bring her and Loki home when she was done, that gave Des and Piper a few precious hours to themselves. Not that much was different - there were still chores to be done, after all. Piper was something of a strict school marm when it came to staying on top of the laundry.

With a very active daughter who loved to play in the garden, it was something of a necessity to stay on top of the laundry, even with a brownie in the house to lend a hand. Des had made himself useful by gathering up all the laundry that had accumulated in the last few days from the bathroom and bedrooms and hauling it downstairs to the laundry room to be sorted and washed. Once that was done, he went to the kitchen to make them both a little lunch while Piper did the sorting and started the washing.

It didn't take long to separate their accumulated clothing and start the washer, even with Oisin hovering to make sure she did it right. In fact, Des was treated to one of several interludes between Piper and the brownie that occurred everyday, usually while he was at work. "When you are big enough to actually wear that shirt, then you can tell me that it isn't a light cotton," she was audible from the kitchen, facing off with the brownie. "Go and chase dust bunnies under Lynnie's bed." A moment later, a grumbling Oisin trotted past, obviously heading toward the stairs, as Piper emerged from the laundry room with a slightly triumphant smile on her face.

Des glanced toward the sound of Oisin's grumbling, chuckling a little to himself to find the little brownie had retreated to Lyneth's bedroom to do as he was told. At least, Piper hadn't made the mistake of telling him thank you, like Des once had. Desmond set two plates on the table, both laden with a sandwich, pickle, and chips, and filled two glasses with iced tea. "Let me guess," he started as Piper emerged from the laundry room. "Piper one, Oisin zero."

"For now, at least," she chuckled back, shaking her long dark hair out of her face as she moved to sit at the table. "I have no doubt he'll find a way to even the odds before the end of the day, he usually does." She smiled at her fiance, the warm happiness in her eyes such a glaring contrast to the sadness that had drawn him to her in the first place. Less than a year since they had met, and he had all but banished every last one of her demons, simply by loving her. "This looks lovely, thank you."

He chuckled, a little amused by both her compliment and her gratitude. He'd been taking care of himself for a long time and knew how to find his way around a kitchen, though he'd rarely taken the time to cook a proper meal back home. "It's just a sandwich, Pip. Nothing special." He pulled out a chair for her, being particularly thoughtful today. There was something he needed to talk to her about, but he wasn't quite sure how to approach it.

She stroked a hand against his cheek as she sat down, gently affectionate in her own way. "Well, even if you don't think it's much, I am still going to say thank you," she smiled back at him, taking a sip from her glass. "I may not be much, but I am brutally polite."

"Isn't that a bit of an oxymoron?" he asked with a smile as he settled himself in a seat beside her. It was rare that they had even a few moments alone, except when Lyneth was sleeping or at school or visiting family or friends. An entire day alone was even rarer, and he had a feeling Lyneth hadn't left them alone by accident, but had sensed the need for what her parents usually referred to as "adult time".

"Watch who you're calling a moron," was her reply to that, her smile taking on that uniquely impish cast that proved just where Lyneth had learned that expression from. "Or I'll get out the bridal catalogs again." It was becoming her favorite threat, mostly because for all the groaning that accompanied the appearance of those magazines, it usually ended up with at least one decision being made whether Des was aware of it or not.

He rolled his eyes at the very thought of that, careful not to insult her, but weddings were not something most men took much interest in planning. So long as she was happy with all the arrangements, that was all that really mattered. Not that he wasn't happy about getting married or excited to share that special day with family and friends, but it was more about the bride than the groom, and he knew it. He was more interested in the honeymoon. "You do and I'm taking a nap," he warned with a twinkle in his own eyes that told her he was only teasing.

She laughed, blue eyes bright with amusement at his predictable response to her familiar threat. There was silence for a moment as she took a bite of her sandwich, licking her lips free of crumbs before speaking again. "The house seems so quiet without Lynnie or Loki here," she commented mildly. "Not that I mind, exactly, but ....well, I'm used to their special brand of chaos by now."

It was quiet, almost too quiet, but they needed this quiet so that they could talk without a certain little half-Fae girl overhearing what he had to say. "Pip," he started, his expression turning sober. He didn't want to worry her, but at the same time, he wanted no secrets between them. While he wanted to protect her - and had promised to protect her - they had come too far for secrets, even well-meaning ones. "There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Mm?" She paused in mid-chew, lifting her eyes to his. It couldn't have been more obvious that she was completely innocent of what was weighing on his mind, oblivious to what had passed between himself and their daughter a few nights before. It was both a blessing and a curse, that innocence - a blessing, in that the elder Lyneth had not terrified Piper, and a curse, in that learning about what had happened after the fact was likely to produce the volcanic eruption that was her rarely expressed anger.

He thought it better to tell her flat out and not beat around the bush. He knew she wasn't going to like it, but it hadn't really been much of a secret. He'd only found out about the elder Lyneth's nocturnal visits recently and had only made her acquaintance once. He knew it was critical that he form his words carefully so that he didn't anger or upset Piper, and yet, at the same time, she needed to know how serious the matter was and what he planned to do about it. "You're not going to like it, but there's something you need to know." Like any good lawyer, he was preparing his opening statement.

"You're wrong, Piper," he said, pushing past his own insecurities and doubts. What was important was Piper and Lyneth's safety, not his own feelings of inadequacy. "You are important to her, more important than anyone. It's for exactly that reason she doesn't tell you. She's protecting you in her own way, Piper. She doesn't want to hurt you or worry you. She loves you more than anyone. You're her mother. That's a bond no one can ever replace. No one." Certainly not himself or a father she'd never known.

"It doesn't feel that way sometimes," Piper confessed softly. Des knew more than anyone about how second-class she could feel when it came to Lyneth, and he had done more than anyone to teach her that it wasn't the case. But every now and then, those feelings came to the surface, bringing those old wounds back into her consciousness. She shook her head, sniffing suddenly, and forced herself to concentrate on what was important. "Tell me what happened," she said, calmer now but no less concerned. She needed to know what was going on.

He held onto her hand, as much needing that connection as she did. Less than a year ago, he'd been an outsider. It was times like this when he wondered if he wasn't an outsider still. Maybe he had assumed too much, but he couldn't deny that in the last year, he had come to love Piper and Lyneth more than life itself. He wasn't trying to replace Piper or push her out. He was only trying to find his own place in their little family and where he fit in. "I'm sorry," he said suddenly, seeing the tears in her eyes and the hurt she was trying to push away, unsure he could have done anything differently. Despite his own feelings, he had opened the lid on this wormcan of his own accord, feeling Piper had a right to know what had happened, even if it was from his lips rather than Lyneth's. It was to that end that he'd broached this discussion.

Lyneth was, after all, Piper's daughter and she had a right to know what had happened. He drew on his experience as a lawyer to tell her as calmly as he could what the Autumn Queen had told him, even though his own heart was in turmoil over it. He explained it as gently as he could, but there was no real way to soften the blow of hearing what might come to pass. He made sure to emphasize that point - that all of this could still be prevented. That was the real reason for the Fae woman's visit, after all - to prevent the deaths of her parents and to prevent her younger self from becoming what she was.

After her storm of a reaction, Piper was almost worryingly quiet as she listened, absorbing everything he had to tell her as both her hands curled about his one. There was nothing she could do about what had already happened, and despite her misgivings, it seemed that they had a chance to change the life of the little girl in their care. Hearing of her own death barely affected her at all, but the moment she realized that Des was telling her about his death, those tears trickled free of her eyes. She'd almost lost him once, and though the whole point of this was to prevent that loss from happening again, she couldn't help but fear it to the deepest core of her being. On top of it all, to learn that if they failed, if they died, their bright, beautiful, deeply loving little girl would become a cold, soulless being with no understanding of love at all ....it was heartbreaking. And worst of all ....Des was wearing his mask again.

She shook her head, ignoring the tears that wet her face as she touched his cheek. "Don't do that," she told him in a trembling voice. "Please don't hide from me. I know I hurt you, I know you're as worried as I am, and I know you struggle with feeling left out too. I can't help if I can't see it, love, please. You're not Ollie, I know that. He is the reason I reacted the way I did, but you're not him. I love you. Please don't hide from me."

They both knew all this was an inevitability they had to face sooner or later. It was only a matter of time. He'd been expecting her tears, just as he'd shed some of his own. Lyneth had been there to comfort and console him, as much as she could, and it now fell upon him to comfort and reassure Piper. He pushed his own feelings aside once again, despite her reassurances, needing to first make her understand that he wasn't going anywhere, that he indeed was not Ollie, and that he was going to do everything in his power to protect them both and prevent the worst from happening. He touched her cheek, fingers brushing her hair back from her face, unable to hide his own heartache from his eyes, even if he refused to openly admit to it.

There was one more thing she needed to know, and for some reason, he found it the hardest thing to tell her. "She said there's going to be another child," he started, unsure if he should be happy or sad about that little revelation. It seemed that was the event that eventually triggered their own deaths. "She didn't say it in so many words, but I think I know what she was trying to say. Somehow, for some reason, she doubted our love, Piper. She told me we have to make sure she never feels unloved. Why would she ever think that?" He felt the sting of tears in his own eyes as he asked her this question. "I couldn't love her more if she was my own." Somehow, in the midst of this tumultuous conversation, Piper's chair had moved until she was pressed close to Des, her forehead against his, her hands against his cheek, resting over his heart. They couldn't have been closer in that moment, not only physically, but emotionally as well. For the first time in her life, she was sharing what she felt without blame or regret, deeply touched that he was doing the same with her. Yet this last little piece of the puzzle was somehow easier for her to understand. But then, she had an elder sister; she'd participated in sibling rivalry when she was little. She knew how competitive children could be, even when there was no need. Des was an only child - he had never felt that competition for his mother's love.

From somewhere, Piper summoned a soft smile, stroking her fingers against Des' cheek tenderly. "It's part of being human, love," she assured him softly. "Every child who has siblings has felt that way - it's a natural fear that somehow the new baby will be more important, that the new baby will take all the love away. If a moment's doubt is all it takes to get us killed, then we won't let her doubt at all. We can't predict when it will happen, or even if it will happen, but we can make sure she knows she is loved, Des. We're her parents, it's our job to do that. And I know we can."

He pulled away a little to shake his head at her, still not understanding. No, he'd never had any siblings; he'd never had to share his mother's love. He did have to share Lyneth and Piper, but he didn't really think of it that way. He thought of them as one unit, as a family, loving them both differently but equally. He couldn't imagine another child changing any of that, only adding more love to the equation. "I don't understand," he told her in a hushed whisper, his voice trembling with the emotions he was trying so desperately to keep in check. There was some relief in sharing all this with her; it was too much to keep to himself, and it had weighed heavily on his heart for the last few days.

"She said she doesn't need to be protected. She said she's supposed to protect us," Des told her, nearly word for word. "She asked me to protect you. You're the key, Piper. You're her mother." Lyneth hadn't said it in so many words, but Des felt it and was intelligent enough to sort it out in his head. Hell, he'd had a few days to think it all through from every angle. He knew it wasn't so much Lyneth who was in danger, as it was Piper, and to a smaller degree himself. The Fae would never hurt Lyneth - she was too valuable an asset and she was one of them. But Piper was another matter, whether they tried to kill or capture her. As for Desmond, he knew his life meant nothing to them, but maybe he could use that against them.

"And you're her father," Piper pointed out unequivocally. But she knew a little more about the Fae than he did, and she could understand why she was the weak link. "But I know what you mean. At the very least, if they can't get her, they'll try to take me so they can breed me." She sighed softly, shaking her head. "Evidently wide hips and a stubborn disposition are attractive to the Fae when it comes to reproduction." She snorted softly, one shoulder rising and falling in a shrug. "All right, love. You want to know how to defend me, that is something we can look into. There are plenty of people on Rhy'Din who could teach you, and the libraries are full of information on the Fae. And to be honest, I would feel better knowing that you can defend yourself against them as much as she can."

"I'm no one," he countered. "Not to them, but maybe that's a good thing. Maybe they won't expect me to know how to fight them." The tattoo he had that matched Piper's was a start, but only a start. At least, she was in agreement that he should learn as much as he can. He thought he might as well tell her what he had already decided. "I'm going to ask Rufus to help me. I know vampires aren't the same thing, but he has to know something about the Fae."

Whatever objection he might have expected her to raise didn't come. Instead, Piper's smile rose on her face, wiping away the vestigial lines that showed her to be worrying too much over something she ultimately had little power over. "I think that's a wonderful idea," she told him softly. And it was a wonderful idea - Rufus was now as much family as any of them, after all, and she highly doubted that he would begrudge the time he would have to give over to Des when the situation was explained to him. Besides which, he was English, and she had felt instantly comfortable with Miranda's new husband the moment they'd first met. "What made you think of him?"

"I didn't," Des confessed, looking thoughtful and a little perplexed. "Lyneth did. The Fae part of her anyway. Not in so many words, but I think that's who she meant. She talks in riddles sometimes when she's..." He broke off, not wanting to risk arousing any more feelings of jealousy or forgotten in her. "Sorry, I....I don't know why she tells me things. I don't think she wants to upset or worry you." It was the best he could do as far as an explanation was concerned. "I-I don't mean to leave you out, Piper. I just....I needed a few days to sort it all out."

"No, I understand." And to her credit, she did understand his side of things. It was the fact that she always seemed to be an after-thought in Lyneth's mind that hurt, and she had no way to expressing that to the tiny girl who held her heart wrapped so tightly in one small fist. She didn't want to upset Lyneth, and so that feeling of inadequacy was pushed aside, buried deep in the hope that not even Des would be able to see it. There would be tears about it at some point, but not where either of them could find her. She offered Des a soft smile, trying to reassure him. "I'm sorry I overreacted. I never meant to hurt you, Des."

He shrugged off her apology as if it was unnecessary. He didn't really think Lyneth meant to hurt her mother, though sometimes the old saying was true that you only hurt the ones you love. He didn't want Piper to make any concessions where he was concerned. He loved them both, and their relationship - the bond between mother and daughter - was more important to him than his own feelings. "She loves you, Piper. She wouldn't have asked me to protect you if she didn't. I don't understand her completely, but that I know. I tried to explain it to your father once. She chooses to be a child for a reason. I think it's because of you mainly and because she likes how it feels to be loved."

"It's okay, Des." She leaned close, brushing her lips to his in a tender kiss, wanting to move away from this subject entirely. She didn't want him to think she was deliberately disbelieving him; she didn't want to hurt him again with her own failings. They needed to change the subject. "When will you talk to Rufus?"

Her kiss drew him back to her, away from his own worries, from his desire to help her resolve her own doubts, though he was still battling with doubts of his own. At least, she now knew everything he knew. There were no secrets between them. There couldn't be if they were going to overcome this together. He shrugged again, knowing he had to make seeing Rufus his first order of business now that she knew. "I wanted to tell you first. I don't want any secrets between us, Pip. Not anymore."

"There aren't any," she promised him, the tip of her nose nudging his as she leaned into him, warm and loving and all his, no matter his doubts. Her heart was more than big enough to encompass Des and Lyneth, and she resolved to make sure they both knew that every day from this moment on. "Although ..." Her arms wound around his neck as she smirked faintly. "Now I know why Lynnie so desperately wanted to crash someone else's home for a few hours today, I propose we really make the most of the privacy. Now that business is out of the way."

He smiled at the implied proposition, though they had hardly touched their lunch as yet. "Are you asking if I want to make a baby with you, Miss Davidson' Because I kind of think Miranda will kill me if you don't fit in that gown she's so busy designing." He was only teasing, yes, but it was a far cry from the tears and the worries that had weighed heavily on his heart the last few days. "Besides, you haven't touched your sandwich," he reminded her as he nudged her nose back, lifting a hand to sweep her hair back from her face.

She kissed him lovingly once again, teasing her fingertips through his short hair. "There are all sorts of ways to hold off on the logical consequences," she mused softly against his lips. "And we can eat later." Another kiss was pressed to his lips as she grinned. "Wanna defile the laundry room this time?"

He laughed at her question, wondering what got into her sometimes. The shy woman he'd met nearly a year ago was becoming bolder and more sure of herself with each passing day, at least as far as he was concerned. "Is that the last place you need to scratch off on your to-do list?" he asked, blue eyes teasing back playfully.

"Oh, the list is always growing," she laughed in response, nuzzling close for a long moment. "I love you, Des. And I can't wait to be your wife, and have Lyneth be your daughter in the only way that's left to make it official. You're the most important part of our lives. Don't forget it."

His expression softened, deeply touched by her words, even more so because he knew how much she meant them. "You saved me, Piper," he told her, his forehead coming to rest against hers. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. He'd been a broken-hearted wreck when he'd first come to Rhy'Din, though he'd hidden it well, but meeting her had changed everything. Not only had he become part of a larger family he'd never known, but he'd found peace and contentment and belonging with her and Lyneth. He'd found a family of his own just when he thought he'd had none. "I love you. I will always love you," he told her, lifting her chin to touch a kiss to her lips, warm and soft loving.

She smiled into his kiss, as touched by his words as he had been by her own. He hadn't been the only broken one when they had first met; he wasn't the only one who had been saved. He might never know just how much his loving her meant, but she hoped she showed it in some small way with ever smile, every gesture. She never wanted him to feel anything but loved. Drawing back, she let the tip of her nose bump his a little playfully, the backs of her fingers caressing down his cheek. "Come on," she murmured, gently easing back to rise and draw him onto his feet with her. "Lunch can wait."

He mirrored her smile, drawing comfort from the simple touch of her fingers against his cheek, her lips against his, moving to his feet at her insistence. How could he say no to that' Their time alone was limited and, unsure when exactly Lyneth might return, he knew she wanted to make the most of it. So much for chores and laundry. There were better things to do, and lunch could definitely wait.

((Something tells me I need to write a mother/daughter chat sometime soon! As always, humungus, magniflorious thank yous to Des' player for being AWESOME!))