Family. [Marton/Angel/Candy/Harry]

[palace_marton]

.




"No." Marton said emphatically, his voice harsh. "I will not hand over that particular responsibility to Council. He turned his chair and gave the Councilor who'd raised the question a glare that made him shift in his seat. "Last time I looked, I was Supreme Ruler of this country and my decisions were final. Constantly bringing the issue to the table does nothing other than piss me off!" The Councilor turned pale and Marton's ire faded. "I suggest you don't do it again." He ended, somewhat more mildly.

A knock at the door had his temper rising again a little. He'd specifically asked not to be disturbed for any reason during this meeting. "Come." He said shortly.

Lucius bustled in, an apologetic look on his face and bent his head to whisper in Marton's ear.

"She what?!"

As a group, the Councilors jumped in their chairs. Now all of them were pale instead of just one.

Marton got abruptly to his feet. "Meeting over." He waved dismissively and the room emptied in record time.

He looked again at the patiently waiting Lucius. "I'm a father?" he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marton paused outside the door, his fingers on the handle, composing himself. Phil's report was still filtering through his mind, slowly making sense, but the overwhelming feeling right now was of relief and of joy. Everyone was okay, that was the main thing. Nothing bad had happened and only good things had come of it, he'd be content with that and let the other stuff slide. He took a deep breath and let it go as his fingers turned the handle and the door opened. Angel was sitting up in the hospital bed and Marton could see that she was tired, but there was a quiet kind of triumph in her eyes that he recognized and he walked across to the side of the bed with a rueful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "So?" he said teasingly. "I hear you had a little adventure." He lowered himself to sit beside her.

Angel looked up as the door opened and smiled. "Well hey Daddy." She said, ducking her head a bit. "Yeah, I did. Did you see her?"

Marton shook his head as he picked up one of Angel's hand and held it in his own, stroking it softly. "Not yet. Phil's bringing her in. I wanted to make sure you're alright first."

"I'm sore and I didn't get my drugs." She said, shifting a bit on the bed.

"That's what you get for sneaking off." Marton chuckled and shook his head. "But Phil said you were a very quick delivery, so count your blessings." He kissed the top of her head.

"I wasn't trying to - well - leave, it was just a..." Angel stopped and gripped Marton's hand. "I'm sorry." She grinned up at him. "But, I won. Totally cleaned up."

"Excellent." Marton grinned. "Then we've both won. A good day all round." Behind him, the door opened and a nurse stepped inside with a wrapped bundle in her arms. Marton's face lit up.

"There's Bubba." Angel said then looked at Marton. "Hey, what is her name?"

Marton took the blanket-wrapped infant carefully, smiling abstracted thanks at the nurse. He sat further back on the bed so he could rest the tiny body in his lap, one hand behind her head for support while he picked aside the fold of blanket keeping her hidden. "Oh." he breathed, tears pricking his eyes. "She's beautiful, Angel." He glanced aside at her. "Ariene." he said softly. "My mother's name."

Angel craned her head, looking down at the tiny face. "Ariene. Cool." She studied the baby for a second before she leaned back. "She's little. Felt a lot bigger coming out."

The nurse returned with a small bottle and handed it to Marton. He changed position, cradling Ariene in the crook of his arm and offering the bottle, which she took greedily. Holding the bottle in position with the same hand that was behind her head, Marton smiled at the busy infant and then picked up Angel's hand again and squeezed it. "Thank you,” he said quietly.

Angel watched Marton, wondering at his ability to make it look natural, and to not drop the baby or the bottle. "Yeah." She yawned, smiling. "We did good, huh?"

"We did." Marton agreed, watching her face with only a quick glance down to check on Ariene's progress. He leaned over and kissed her again. "You should get some sleep," he said. "Phil has given me the all-clear to take my wee princess home, so you rest up, alright? I'll come back and see you later this evening once I get her settled. The nanny's on her way. If you . . ." he hesitated a little. "If you want to come up later, see where she is and who will be looking after her . . ." he shrugged. "You know. Just, well, we'll talk about it later." The baby had finished and he deftly removed the nipple from her mouth and put the bottle on the side table, lifting Ariene to his shoulder and rubbing her back. She emitted a very unladylike burp.

Angel laughed. "Yeah, she's got a little of me in her." She scooted down, pulling at the covers before saying, "It's cool Marton, you've got that Dad thing down. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

Marton wandered out into the hallway, leaving Angel to rest, with Ariene tucked up in the crook of his arm once more, peacefully sleeping. He'd get her upstairs and safely abed and then go in search of the rest of his family to tell them the . . . His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Angel's bodyguard leaning against the far wall, a dejected slump to his shoulders. He walked over. "Glenn, isn't it?"

Kane stood straight and smoothed his hands across his shirt, head bowing. "Yes sir, Your Highness."

"You alright?" Marton wanted to know. "You seem kind of . . . sad?"

The big man shuffled his foot, casting a glance at the wad of princess in the King's arms. "Sir, I didn't mean for Angel to get away. She wasn't trying to run away. She'd just got bored - and - well..."

"Oh." Marton, pre-occupied with his daughter, had forgotten about that. He smiled, pushing aside the blanket so Glenn could see. "No harm, no foul, alright? Angel is . . . tricksy when she wants to be and besides, who could be upset on a day like this?"

Kane looked at the baby, eyes softening and face splitting into a smile. "She's real pretty isn't she and she's so little. She looks just like a princess ought to look, don't she?" He looked up at the King, straightening when he realized he was almost leaning on his Royal Highness.

He looks about as besotted as I must, Marton thought with a grin. "Would you like to hold her?" he asked, thinking that it wasn't this man's fault Angel had absconded and wanting a way to make him feel better.

"Yeah? Could I?" Kane rubbed his hands on his trousers, widening his stance and shifting his shoulders. "You'll show me how, right?"

Marton showed him how to support her head with the crook of his elbow while the huge forearm and hand wrapped safely around the rest of the bundle. "There." he said. "Like that." He watched with an amused smile on his face as the huge man cradled the tiny baby and a thought occurred. "You know," he said. "Ariene is going to need her own P.B. You think you'd like the job? You'll be free once Angel leaves and, if she comes back," he shrugged his shoulders indicating he didn't know if she would or not. "You could divide your shifts." It was an excellent idea, he thought, the man's devotion to Angel and now to the baby, was plain to see.

Kane swallowed, looking up, eyes misted over. "Oh sir, I'd be honored." He swayed a bit, cradling the bundle. "Hi Princess Ariene, I'm Candy, I'm gonna watch after you." He grinned up at the King. "Thanks sir."

Marton grinned back. "She's in safe hands."

~~


Marton headed toward the lift, his precious bundle tucked safely in his arm and sleeping. He couldn't wait to get back upstairs; the kids were about to get as big a shock as he'd had! Turning the corner, he spotted a familiar figure standing in a weary pose before the lift door, dressed in scrubs and with a plastic bag under his arm. "Harry!" he hailed, a huge grin breaking free.

Harry started, turning around and beaming as he saw Marton coming towards him. "Well- hello, Dad! You can take her home already?" he said, his expression going instantly sappy as he realized Marton was carrying the baby.

Marton stopped in front of Harry, glancing up to see that the lift was stopped on the top floor. "Yeah." he said, almost shyly. "Phil said she's good to go. Want another peek?" He lifted aside the fold of blanket and held her up.

"Gods, look at you," he murmured, shaking his head and grinning even wider. "Absolutely beautiful. Congratulations, Marton. She's perfect."

Marton looked at the expression on Harry's face and thought, pot, kettle, black, my man. He put on his most innocent expression. "Like to hold her? Now she's all nice and clean and wrapped, that is."

"Oh, 'course... 'cause you know I'd never go near one that wasn't," Harry deadpanned, shuddering dramatically, then breaking out into a grin. "Scarred for life, Marton. Scarred. For. Life. Now give!" he demanded, holding his arms out.

Marton carefully handed her over, settling her in Harry's arms before withdrawing his own and making certain that Harry's hand was behind her head, supporting it. The baby blew a milky bubble but didn't wake up. "Harry? Thank you." Marton said simply.

Harry nodded, shifting his arms a little to make sure she was settled properly. "You're welcome. I'm only admitting it once- once, mind, but once it came down to it, she did well. And this little one is certainly worth it," Harry beamed again, brushing a kiss over her forehead, feather-light.

"Yeah." Marton readily agreed. "She did good." He smiled at Harry's gesture. "But I'm forgetting my manners." he told him. "Allow me to introduce you. Harry, may I present Her Royal Highness, Princess Ariene Angelina Sinclair Csokas." He leaned down and touched the wee button nose. "Princess, this is your Uncle Harry."

"Ariene... that's beautiful- that's a..." Harry stopped dead. Ariene, that's a family name, I'm pretty sure, and Angelina, well, Marton's just that kind of guy... Harry looked up, making a point of checking to make sure he was still holding the baby securely. "Marton, am I hearing things, or did you..."

Marton shrugged but his happy smile was even fuller. "Lots of people have an ancestral name that means nothing to them, Harry. Ariene has one that will mean a lot." A soft ping from behind him let him know the lift had arrived and he guided them both inside, taking Harry's plastic bag out from under his arm as he did so.

"Wow. I... wow. I have this sudden feeling that my parents, who always hoped that their son would meet a nice girl and settle down and have a few kids to carry on the family name are suddenly both grinning madly and having a bit of a laugh on me for saying it would never happen... and I'm back to wow." Harry looked back up at Marton, stunned, then back down at Ariene. "Ariene Angelina Sinclair Csokas. It suits. Thank the gods you didn't feel grateful enough to go for Harriet."

"Harriet," Marton told him with a moue of distaste. "was my first nanny's name. Horrible woman." He grinned and wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders as he pressed the button for Royal. "So?" he teased while the lift rose. "Delivering a child didn't change your mind any?"

"She's a beautiful creature, but hell no, Marton. Bad enough I can no longer say I've never touched a woman. I think I'll be quite content to spoil all hell outta yours, if it's all the same to you. I'll just go ahead and claim all future cursing that she comes up with as my fault right out of the gate, shall I? Except the really good Dnaran ones... those'll be Anna's work."

Marton just rolled his eyes to the heavens and didn't bother with any pretense at admonishments. He was simply too happy, floating in fact, to pretend to an ire he didn't feel. The lift stopped and they exited, heading across to the P.P. lift where Marton pressed the button again. Pretty soon they were in the nursery, Christian's old room, and Harry was carefully laying the sleeping baby into the padded safety of her bassinet.

"She's got your hair... eyelashes look like Orlando's," Harry murmured, leaning against the bassinet. "We're all doomed, you know that, right?"

"Oh yeah." Marton agreed quietly. "Completely lost." He smoothed a hand over the tiny forehead, feeling the pulse of life beneath the soft skin. "She has got curls." he agreed, straightening up and turning to Harry. "Would it be terribly forward of me to ask for a hug right about now?" he asked softly. "I am so grateful for what you did today and I don't know how I'm ever going to repay that. I . . ." He stopped, embarrassed and conscious of the threat of tears in his voice.

"Fu . . . forget forward," Harry changed the word partway through, pulling Marton into a tight hug, knowing the low light would hide his burning cheeks. "I'm just glad she's okay. Your family is my family, and all I wanted here was this little one safe and healthy. You don't have to repay me for that. Because I can never begin to repay you for taking me into your family like you have. For raising Orlando to be the man I fell in love with- for..." Harry swallowed. "We're good- honest."

Marton tried to chuckle, but the sound came out through tears. "We're a pair of saps." he managed weakly, his head bent and his face pressed into Harry's hair. "Couple of softies." But he didn't let go and he didn't move away, his fingers stroking the nape of Harry's neck and rubbing up and down his back. "We're family." he said softly.