Scout reached for George in the darkness. "George?" she called. "George?" She tried to keep the panic out of her voice.

"I'm right here, darling, I'm right here." She felt his hand, warm and dry, cover hers.

"Do you think it's her?" she asked softly.

Silence.

"I don't know," he finally responded. "We really can't think about that right now, you know?" He squeezed her fingers. "We have to get your bag out of the car and wait for Sunil and Alfred." He turned and led her to the large front room. "Now you just wait right here," he instructed. "I'll go grab your bag from the car." And he was gone, leaving her to count the seconds and her breathing. He was back before she had another contraction, however, pulling her flowered case behind him, all four dogs trailing him like some strange, canine procession.

"All okay?" he asked, taking a seat next to her.

She nodded wordlessly in the gloom, grasping his hand. They sat in the near darkness, with the dogs sitting nearly on their feet in their nervousness. They were peering out the large picture windows, but couldn't even see three feet because of the rain. Suddenly, though, there was a terrific knocking on the front door, which was strange, since there was no car in the driveway.

George jumped up and ran to open it. Sunil and Alfred nearly fell inside, soaked.

"What's going on?" George asked, shutting the doors behind them, perplexed. "Where's your car? How'd you get here?"

"We had to leave it outside the gates," Sunil gasped, out of breath. "They won't open because there's no power, it looks like?"

"That's right, it went out a few minutes ago," George said, nodding. "Even the pedestrian gate won't open?" Both boys shook their heads. "How'd you two get in, then?"

"We squeezed between the bars," Alfred explained, taking over the telling. "There's a bit of a wider gap between the bar and the pillar, you know? We just fit." He looked around. "Shit, we're dripping all over your floor, Mr. Wilder, sorry about that, what a mess we're making."

Scout switched on an electric portable lantern, and suddenly the room was lit up in an eerie yellow light.

"So how am I going to get to the car, then?" she asked practically. "There's no way I'm squeezing between those bars out there," she continued, gesturing at her stomach. "And the fence goes all the way around the property, if I'm not mistaken, doesn't it?" She looked at George for confirmation.

He nodded, looking concerned.

"Fuck," he said succinctly. Why, why had he made the house into such a fortress? It had seemed like such a good idea when he moved in.

"Is there a ladder or something?" she asked. "Could I climb over the fence?"

George, Sunil and Alfred looked horrified.

"Miss Scout, you'd break your neck!" Alfred said, eyes huge.

Scout had another contraction then, and held on to the back of the couch, breathing rapidly.

"Okay," she said, as it subsided. "Let's think of something else, then, because this baby's coming out, pretty soon, it seems, and I'd rather not do it right here in the living room, hm?" She looked at the three men, eyebrows raised.

It was full dark now, and the storm raged around the house, the wind howling, the rain hitting the windows like bullets. It really was like something from a horror movie.

"George?" Scout called.

"Yes?" He moved toward her with alacrity.

"You should call Dr. Summerville, I think, tell her about this latest wrinkle," she suggested, mainly so he'd have something to do. He looked so upset.

George went to the kitchen to make the call, but was back almost immediately. "Whatever took out the electric has taken down the phone lines as well," he told everyone. "I'm afraid we're completely cut off." He ran his hands through his hair, breathing deeply.

Oh god. Scout really thought about crying. She looked around the huge, cold, dark, living room, rolling her eyes.

Alfred, who'd left the room, came back and led Scout to the lounge. He motioned for George and Sunil to follow. He'd built a fire, quickly and efficiently. He sat Scout down on the couch, and spread out a blanket on her lap.

"Now you just relax, Miss Scout," he said. "We'll get you some tea and get this all sorted, all right?" He motioned to Sunil, who silently slipped out, presumably to get the tea. Scout smiled, her tears disappearing before they arrived, for the moment, at least. Bandit, Harry, Bess, and Hermione all jumped up on the couch, leaving no room for anyone else. When George tried to sit next to her, they all stared at him silently. Scout finally laughed and stood to make room for him, sitting between his legs.

They all tried over and over while drinking their tea to call out on their cell phones, but couldn't get a signal.

And Scout finally got so tired of the looks on the three guys' faces that she went to the bathroom and stayed for a while, turning on the shower and standing under it, hoping the hot water would relax her. After she'd been in there about fifteen minutes, she heard the unmistakable sound of a dog scratching on the door, so she reached out and opened the door to let him or her in.

She was shocked and momentarily terrified when a large, human shape stepped in.

"George?"

"Guilty," he replied, laughing, sticking his face around the shower curtain.

"What the fuck?" Scout sputtered. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, you ass! Why didn't you just knock? You impersonated a fucking dog, you dick!"

"That sentence is wrong on so many levels," he said, laughing comfortably as he removed his clothing. "I mean, 'impersonating a dog', first of all, is that even possible?" He stepped into the shower stall with her. "How does one impersonate an animal? Hm?" He took her in his arms and kissed her. "Then you call the person doing the impersonating of the animal a body part, which, again, doesn't sound quite within the realm of possibility, you know?" He smiled at her, his face almost too handsome to be real. "I didn't think you'd let me in," he admitted.

Scout had piled her freshly washed hair on top of her head, from where it cascaded, pell-mell, all over her head and face. The warm water had brought out the roses in her cheeks, and freshened her numerous freckles, in addition to deepening the raspberry color of her lips, making her look particularly adorable to George.

"How can a woman just hours away from giving birth look so eminently fuckable?" he murmured, stroking her cheek and leaning in to kiss her again, a kiss so steamy and wet that Scout felt her knees getting weak.

George pushed her so she was leaning against the tiles of the shower stall, his hands finding her sensitive breasts with her gumdrop nipples, gently squeezing them, making her moan against his mouth. His thumbs stroked them as she grasped his wrists, their tongues dancing together as the water flowed over them.

"Jesus, George, you're making my contractions stronger," she moaned.

"I know," he said, smiling. "I read that could happen." He kissed her some more, pressing her head against the back wall as the steam surrounded them. "This could be a very popular method of stimulating labor, I think, don't you?" he asked, in between kissing her, his fingers rolling her very sensitive nipples, his tongue stroking into her mouth. He could feel her smiling as she nodded.

"We should get out, I think," she finally said, regretfully.

"Really?" he murmured, kissing her some more. "Because I'm really enjoying myself."

"Oh, me, too," she assured him. "But we need to figure out how to solve our geography problem pretty soon, because I'm pretty sure my water just broke."

George looked down, and, sure enough, the water going down the drain was now a bit pink tinged.

He quickly stepped away from Scout.

"Holy fuck, did I cause your waters to break?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so," she replied, laughing. "You're just that amazing, I guess."

They quickly dried off and got out. George ran upstairs and grabbed a flowy and comfortable nightgown for Scout. She got dressed and they went back into the lounge together, with Scout saying as they entered, "You guys, I think we're past the point of me worrying how I look to you, right? Can I just be comfortable in my pajamas in front of you, please?"

"Of course, Miss Scout, please, just be yourself," Sunil replied. Alfred just nodded his head, red hair flopping endearingly.

She was smiling at the boys when another contraction came along, making her grimace where she sat on the couch and grip George's hand.

"Have we figured out what we're going to do, you guys?" she asked after she'd breathed through it. "How are we going to get me to the hospital?" She looked around at their serious faces.

As if in response, a roll of thunder shook the house, rattling the French doors. George rose, drawing the curtains across them, shutting out the weather as best he could. He put another log on the fire, trying to make the room warmer and more cheerful.

Scout put her head back and closed her eyes. She let George pull her into his shoulder, and didn't open her eyes when someone lifted her legs onto the sofa, placing a pillow under her knees to relieve some of the pressure on her legs. George lowered her head onto his lap and rubbed her tummy, turning her on to her side. She just kept her eyes closed, breathing through her mouth, losing track of time.

"Miss Scout?" Alfred called her name. "Miss Scout? You're going to have to walk a bit, can you do that, Miss?" She just nodded, opening her eyes. For a few seconds she couldn't remember where she was.

She leaned on George, who whispered reassuringly into her ear. "Everything's okay, love, I'm here with you." She nodded, putting her feet into her fuzzy slippers.

"Where are we, George?" she asked, stopping as she felt another strong contraction.

"We're at Farraway Mist, darling, we're at home," he said, his arm around her waist.

She nodded, breathing, feeling the pain in her abdomen, in her back, grasping his hand.

They walked across the tiled marble hall, to the back bedroom on the first floor, where there was a fire in the fireplace, for some reason. George helped her into the bed. The dogs followed her into the room, even the puppies. They lay down next to the back door, where she could hear the rain hitting the window, pelting at it. The lightning lit it up at irregular intervals. There were candles everywhere, lighting up the room like some medieval lair.

"The footboard's going to be in the way," she heard George say. She could hear the worry in his voice.

"I think we can take care of it fairly easily, though," Alfred replied. "See? Here and here, it's just screwed on, it's not really holding the bed up or anything. Sunil, run and grab the tool box from the utility cupboard, mate."

"George?" She called.

"Yes, darling?" he replied immediately. "What do you need?"

"I want to sit up," she said. "Are there more pillows or something?"

"Of course, of course," he said.

Alfred dashed out before she'd even finished asking, and returned minutes later, with an armful of cushions, placing them carefully behind her back, helping her to sit up.

She smiled her thanks at him, and he smiled back at her.

By then Sunil had returned with the tool box, and the two boys turned their attention to the footboard while George sat with Scout, his arm around her, breathing with her, giving her ice chips. The footboard was gone moments later, which seemed to make everyone in the room really happy for some reason.

"Scout?" George was looking at her. "I'm going to have to examine you, okay? And so are Alfred and Sunil? You going to be okay with that?"

Scout looked at George and the two young men, blinking.

"Yes," she finally said, nodding. She raised her gown, holding George's hand.

"It's okay, Miss Scout," Alfred said reassuringly as he lowered her gown. "We don't really know what we're looking at, anyway, you know?"

"I saw my pig give birth once, and I was downstairs when my sister Peggy had her baby, and that's about it for what we know," he concluded cheerfully, making Scout laugh in spite of the seriousness of her circumstances.

"And I remember when my my mum had my little brother," Sunil put in.

"We'll get through this, you guys," she said, smiling at them.

She looked at George, who looked a little green.

"Come on, my love, you've got to do better than that," she admonished. "For me? For Alis?"

George looked at Scout and nodded resolutely.

"Yes," he said. "We can do this. We can do this."

A flash of lightning illuminated the room.