a/n: How did they unfreeze Devon? When did they finally complete the trek? Who made the first move, Danziger or Devon? You will find none of those answers here. It's the little things that make someplace home. Thanks, as always, to my beautiful beta, my bellicose, beloved FCB.

The L Word (Nothing Ventured Nothing Gained)

John Danziger is a cheater. I'm sure of it.

It doesn't seem fair letting True make the calls. She looks all innocent sitting there in his lap, ready for bed in droopy socks and her dad's flannel shirt. Her hair is all tangled…I wonder if she still lets Danziger brush it for her…the big oaf is just sitting there, smiling like a dope while his daughter rearranges his hand-like he doesn't have a care in the world! Between Uly and True I have seen every conceivable parental nightmare in 4D since we crashed onto this miserable planet, and it does not bode well for my damn near immediate future.

Amaryllis? No, sounds like a mean grandmother…Blossom, Camellia…how on earth did Dumbziger come up with True? It's kinda weird, most people don't live their lives as an adjective, but it is the absolutely perfect name for his child. Maybe he just looked at her and knew.

True, True's staring at her cards like a Grendler sniffing fresh human blood. He's cheating right now, hello? She's smarter than Walman and Baines combined. He must have a tell, like a finger wiggle or something to tip her off because I refuse to believe that I will have two sets of little girl clothes to scrub clean for the next….three, six, carry the one...forever. This is high stakes Texas Fold Em, down and dirty laundry poker, and on no planet, in any galaxy, is poker a team sport.

I cannot loose this hand, I hate pruney laundry fingers--

"This is an abomination! You, sir, are a cheater!"

There. That sounded official. So what it if it's one hand before bed, and who cares if True looks adorable with her hair all loose and tangled…Oh no…no no no no no! She's a decoy, damnit! A mole…his is exactly what Danziger wants- to fluster me with a living example of impending fatherhood doom, a card-counting little succubus just like the one that's going to pop out of my incredibly pregnant wife any second now, and take me to the cleaners. Or vice versa, as the case may be.

"I'm not doin' much of anything at all, Martin."


"Can it, Morgan."

Really, John? This is acceptable daughterly behavior? She your kid alright, boy…daddy's little girl? Dear God, the last thing New Pacifica needs is another me.



Look at that. All he does is say her name and she caves. I'm not scary at all. She'll never listen to a word I say, tiny little Marigold….or Poppy. Dahlia?

Oh, wipe that smirk off your face Cave Dad. You're starting to look like Gaal with that damn hair. Why exactly hasn't Devon tied you to the bed and cut it off? And when was the last time you shaved, you look like Robinson Crusoe. Sure it's fine now, but colonists are not going to get the joke…actually, I really should remember to warn you about that, but your enjoying this way to much…I'm feeling forgetful…and look at True, she looks like a cat watching a bird…

This baby is going to eat me alive, I'm already powerless against Bess, and Julia and True and, strangely, Magus. I do not need another female bleeding me emotionally dry.

"Yeah, this way, Morgan, when you lose you'll remember it was to a kid."


"True sure can get those clothes dirty, can't you, girl?"

Oh sure, Danziger, like it's all kittens and roses. Like the little bottom feeder isn't the bane of your existence, a mouth to feed, a walking heart attack, a constant source of worry- and that scream. I hear it in my sleep, God, my constitution cannot take that kind of upheaval…all day, all night where's little Lily? Lily's nice, definitely an L name, Laura, Lisa-- no, Bess wants a flower.


Where is that swollen little hairball? She absolutely sent True in here to shake me up. She's in on it! Well, I mean, of course she's in on the baby, or vice versa, as the case may be. The last thing I need right now is more suspense--

"Oh for God Sakes, Cameron, just flip the damn thing!"

There's no use postponing the inevitable, I'm gonna loose, I'm gonna loose bad. The Ghost of Twelve-Year-Olds Yet to Come over there has a royal straight flush, she has five aces, and I'm just supposed to sit here and take it, like I'm not already listening for Bess to scream at me for pickles…or a foot massage or to tell me her water just broke!

An eight! Okay, that's no so bad, I have another one of those…and my twos. Two pairs is nothing, I'm gonna be washing Danziger's underwear for, no seriously…three, six carry the one…ninety- seven days.

Look at True, she's made of stone, and Father Knows Best is all shankin' is not natural, this kind of symbiosis. Definitely a lack of maternal influences going on over there. I'll be he didn't even brush his teeth until Devon moved in…maybe a bachelor pad is for the best…it's only a matter of time before our bedroll is embroidered with unicorns and rainbows and Bess is singing the alphabet at oh five hundred. Little Larkspur, Leilani- Lilac's pretty- will have me wrapped around her chubby little fingers! Definitely leaning towards Lilac…

"Well, gee, Martin…wouldya look at that…"

That bastard. Danziger. And that little…demon child…his henchgirl…a full shankin' house?

Laundry has a pretty ring to it. We might as well just call her Laundry Martin.