BelovedOne: Thanks for being so patient while I took my sweet time with this. It's only been in the last week that my muses from several of my stories have returned from their vacations. They went to a nice little place called Writer's Block. So, here it is, the third chapter! Enjoy!! (And by the way, this chapter is pretty much just fun and random.)


"Pregnant. P-R-E-G—"

"I know how it's spelled, Sara! I get the point, it's just…wow. Wow. I…I can't believe it. You're pregnant. Pregnant. God, as if the world hasn't suffered enough—now we're gonna have little Saras and Nottinghams running around?"

"Hey! I resent that!"

"Well, hey, if you were me, would you want mini-assassins and mini-yous running around? It'd be a massacre!"

She raised an eyebrow in warning. "You don't knock it off and we'll have a massacre of our own in here."

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, a smug look on his face. "Just you try."

She stood, bent, with her palms flat on the desk beneath her, and stared him straight in the eye. "Don't tempt me."


Later that evening…

Ian chuckled softly as Sara described Danny's reaction to her announcement. She didn't dissuade him; she herself had had a laugh at her partner's expense.

"So," she said, changing the subject, "how about some names?"

"Mmm, I thought we were going to celebrate tonight."

"I thought we already did," she replied dryly. "Three times."

He pretended to look hurt. "You're not tired of me already, are you?"

"Hell, no! Let's celebrate some more—" She was prevented from finishing as his mouth descended over hers in a fiery exchange that left her breathless. "Hot damn! You keep that up, and there won't be anything left of me by morning."

"Then perhaps I should stop," he said, his mouth traveling down her body, caressing every square inch of her.

She growled at him from deep in her throat.

He raised one eyebrow, pausing in his ministrations. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

She growled again.

"Ah. Then I should continue, milady?"

"Damn straight. And don't call me that."

"Yes, milady."


"Damn, Ian."

He was sitting up halfway, his head propped on one hand as he traced patterns on her skin with the other. "What?"

"You sure know how to tire me out."

"What's the matter, can't keep up?" he teased.

She shoved him playfully. "You ass!"

He twisted around, trying to get a good look at his rear end. "I do have a pretty nice—"

"Ian Christian Nottingham, if you finish that sentence, I swear, I'll—"

"You'll what? Kiss me?"

She shoved him again. "You are such an—"

She was cut off as his mouth covered hers again.

Later, after they'd finished their most recent round, Sara said, "You know, you do have a nice ass. More than nice—downright sexy."

"Why, thank you, milady."

She made a rumbling sound at him, one akin to that of a perturbed grizzly bear.

"Sorry, love. You know I can't help it. You just inspire me. Isn't that right, Princess?"

He brushed a hand across Sara's flat belly at his last words.

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Princess? What makes you so sure it won't be an Ian, Jr.?"

He shrugged. "What does it matter?"

She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. "I give up. You're incorrigible."

He flashed her a blinding grin. "I know."