Through a mist of tears she studied him. "Then you have only to ask."
He walked back to her, laid his hand over where hers rested. "Give me a chance" was all he said.
Her lips curved when his moved to meet them. "We've been waiting for you a long time."
"I'm going to be a father." He said it slowly, testingly, then let out a whoop and scooped her off her feet. "We made a baby."
She threw her arms around his neck and laughed. "Yes."
"We're a family."
"Yes."
He kissed her long and hard before he began to walk. "If we do a good job with the first, we can have more, right?"
"Absolutely. Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you back and putting you to bed. With me."
"Sounds like a delightful idea, but you don't have to carry me."
"Every bloody step. You're having a baby. My baby. I can see it. Interior scene, day. A sunny room with pale blue walls."
"Yellow."
"Okay. With bright yellow walls. Under the window stands a gleaming antique crib, with one of those funny mobiles hanging over it. There's a sound of gurgling, and a tiny, pudgy hand lifts up to grab at one of the circling…" He stopped, his face whipping around to Morgana's. "Oh, boy."
"What? What is it?"
"It just hit me. What are the chances? I mean how likely is it that the baby will, you know, inherit your talent?"
Smiling, she curled a lock of his hair around her finger. "You mean, what are the chances of the baby being a witch? Very high. The Donovan genes are very strong." Chuckling, she nuzzled his neck. "But I bet she has your eyes."
"Yeah." He took another step and found himself grinning. "I bet she does."