A/N – I own nothing. Not a thing. This isn’t even my computer.

“If a child loses their parents do you think it makes them a bad child?”

“What?”

“If a parent, or specifically a childless man who had inadvertently adopted a group of grown adults who looked upon him as a father figure...”

“Marguerite...I don’t think I like the way this is heading.”

“Well that’s too bad George. As I was saying before being rudely interrupted, if this hypothetical man were to lose one of these surrogate children through no fault of his own would you consider him a bad parent? A bad man even.”

“She deserved more. I should have done mor-“

“I disagree George.”

“I’ll try to contain my amazement.”

“I’ll let that one go as we’re all grieving. Back to my first question though – if a child, a little girl who had committed no crime except being born for example, lost her parents would you consider her a bad child? By your logic you must. The girl could have done more.”

“The situations are entirely different!”

“But the losses are the same. Surely Professor you can see that neither the little girl or the man are at fault and when terrible things like that happen they can be put down to the world being a harsh and horrible place.”

“How cynical you are my dear. I think sometimes we all forget the things you’ve done.”

“How terrible do you imagine these things are?”

“There’s no need for the tone Marguerite, I wasn’t implying they were all bad things, just extraordinary things. What you did in the war for example. We’ve all seen the effect Malone’s experiences had on him. He’s never said as much but I suspect Roxton got closer to the front than his rank would suggest and I myself saw the effects of gasses and shell-shock up close. What did you see?”

“All that and more George. Please can we change the subject?”

“Back to your philosophising on the nature of parental loss?”

“I was trying to make you feel better. You’ve barely left the lab since Finn died.”

“If I promise to join you all for breakfast bright and early tomorrow will you allow me to tell you a secret?”

“Will I be shocked?”

“After so long living together, I hope not.”

“I’m all ears George.”

“I do consider you all children of sorts...however Malone and Roxton seem to have had happy childhoods and Veronica already has a father that I can never compete with.”

“Your point being?”

“If I have become anyone’s father Marguerite, I like to think it has been yours.”

“George...”

“Please. And I think you and Finn were much more alike than either one of you would like to have admitted. Both of you needed a father.”

“George please don’t, I don’t think I’ve stopped crying all for a fortnight!”

“And...It may be disrespectful to her memory but I can tell you honestly...”

“George!”

“It breaks my heart to lose one daughter like that but you...you were first. If I lost you I think my heart would shatter.”

“I love you, you know that. Never tell the others or I’ll never live it down but I love you all and especially you George Edward Challenger!”

“You know, you are so much like my Jessie sometimes. If we’d had a dau-“

“Don’t. I know. You don’t need to say it.”

They sat in companionable silence for some time, Challenger becoming increasingly aware of the damp patch on his shoulder where Marguerite’s tears were still soaking his shirt and the heiress pretending she couldn’t hear the scientist own muffled cries.

“So now that I’ve listened dutifully will you be coming to breakfast without a fight? You have to eat.”

“Will you be cooking?”

“I think its John’s turn.”

“Thank heavens for small mercies.”

“I recall you once comparing my cooking to Jessie’s. I know what you all think of mine so when I meet her I will take great delight in telling her you said that.”

“Speaking of when we get back to London are there certain fatherly duties I need to prepare myself for? Giving away a certain member of a wedding party for example? I assume the Roxton estate would be able to provide me with a suitable suit.”

“That’s it! I’m going to my room!”

Challenger’s amused chuckle followed her out of the laboratory and for the first time in weeks the scientist wasn’t consumed with grief for Finn but love for his most impossible child.