Welcome back! I have been dying to use this title since I started writing my story. I claim no originality for it; I heard a comedian say it on Smoking Gun’s: World’s Dumbest. I felt it was more than appropriate when describing Tristen.

Currently, it is also a dig at me. As you may have read on the Boolprop board or on my LJ, my game became a BFBVFS in the middle of shooting this chapter. I was able to eke out a few more story line shots, however. Strangely enough, I am beginning to look forward to the reinstall and rebuild. I am NOT canning my story by any means. It’s just that the remaining chapters are going to be in a different location.

Anyway, enough about that. On with the show!

Chapter One

Sebastian and Tristen were in their own private world as they cuddled on the bed. Sebastian smiled contentedly as he reached over and held Tristen’s hand in his own. “I love you Tris,” he said as he rubbed his thumb over one of her fingers. Tristen sleepily smiled back.

“Me too,” she replied, and then she let out a soft yawn, “but I have to go to sleep. Being an assistant cheerleader coach is a big job! All the Jazz Hands and Spirit Fingers; it takes a lot out of a girl, you know.”

Sebastian smiled, kissed her hand, and rolled over to go to sleep.

Tristen moved close to Sebastian and put her arm around him. “There was no lullaby,” she said. Sebastian looked over his shoulder and saw the sad look on her face.

He pulled her into an embrace. “Tris,” he began, “it doesn’t always happen on the first try. Sometimes not even on the second or third try, either.” Tristen sighed impatiently.

“I know, but I was still hoping to have a baby right away,” she closed her eyes and listened to Sebastian’s slow, steady heartbeat. Sebastian caressed her shoulder.

“What about your new job and all the Spirit Hands Jazz Fingers thing?”

“Jazz Hands Spirit Fingers,” Tristen corrected him, “and I know. You’re right,” Tristen didn’t feel like starting an argument about how important babies were to a Family Sim such as herself; especially since she knew that Sebastian was a lot smarter than her, “it’ll happen when it happens.”

Sebastian kissed her forehead and they both fell asleep.

The next afternoon, Sebastian found himself startled as Tristen ran into the house sobbing. Immediately pulling her into a consoling hug, he barely was able to get out the words asking her what was wrong.

“I dropped the Spirit Stick!” Tristen cried, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Sebastian’s brow furrowed slightly, trying to understand what the problem was.

“So what? What does that mean?” he asked, confused. He never claimed to know the inner workings of Cheerleader Culture. His wife was soon to educate him.

“So what?! SO WHAT?! I got FIRED Sebastian. Dropping the Spirit Stick means bad luck for the squad, and three times the bad luck for the person who dropped it! First, there was no lullaby and now THIS! I’m CURSED!”

Sebastian pulled away slightly and looked her firmly in the eye. “Tristen, that’s just plain superstition and completely illogical. Not getting pregnant last night and you dropping the Spirit Stick today are not tied together. You most certainly are NOT cursed…”

“But…” Tristen interrupted. Sebastian overrode her.

“No buts, Tris. I don’t want to see you beating yourself up over superstitions.”

“Besides,” he continued, dipping her down for a kiss, “that just means that we’ll get more chances to try for a baby.”

Tristen wasn’t so sure that Sebastian was right about her not being cursed, but she was more than willing to have more chances to get pregnant.

Of course, that was the moment that Ansley came home from work. As her mind violently tried to block out the image of her son with his wife, she quickly covered her eyes and cleared her throat. Tristen and Sebastian quickly got up from the couch, Sebastian looking embarrassed and Tristen looking disgruntled; there still was no lullaby.

Chapter Two

It was not for lack of trying; Sebastian gave himself that. He knew that there was no such thing as infertility for Sims…unless the deity of the Mini-verse had determined that there would be. He never met the author, though his mother told him stories about how back in the day, the author was far more involved with interacting with the family. He wished he knew who she was, so he could give her a piece of his mind. He absolutely hated seeing the downtrodden look on Tristen’s face and he blamed the author for it.

It also didn’t help that Tristen still believed in the bad luck bestowed upon her for dropping the Spirit Stick. He cringed inwardly when he saw Tristen looking for four leaf clovers, wishing upon stars, and even going as far as asking a genie to grant her wish for a baby.

“And THEN the genie said that even though he could grant me three wishes, having a baby was not on the list. THEN he said that I could have eternal happiness, and THEN I said that having a baby WOULD give me eternal happiness. And THEN he said that I wasn’t cursed. And THEN I said…”

“Tris,” Sebastian said, interrupting her tirade, “the genie is right. You are NOT cursed. The genie would know, him being magic and all.” Tristen rolled her eyes.

“What does a genie know about the Spirit Stick curse? Maybe he knows all about magic stuff, but maybe the Spirit Stick curse is even more powerful than an old, stupid purple genie,” she exclaimed.

“That is the most STUPID thing I have EVER heard!” Sebastian exploded, having enough of the entire conversation.

Tristen, hurt, climbed out of the hot tub with as much dignity that she could muster. She wiped a tear that fell from her eye. Without looking at him she said, “That is the most meanest meanie thing I have ever heard you say, Sebastian Devereaux. You might think that it’s stupid and not important. But it’s important to me,” and she walked into the house.

Sebastian took a deep breath and slid under the water, counting the seconds slowly before he had to come up for air.

Later that night, around bedtime, Tristen found herself engrossed, reading accounts from “Real Life Cheerleaders!” suffering from the Spirit Stick curse and how they coped with their problems.

“Listen to this. ‘Oh my God, like, I totally dropped the Spirit Stick and my life has been, like, TOTALLY sucktastic. First, I sprained my ankle because the person who was supposed to catch me missed. And then, like, I got a pimple right before the prom! And then, like, my BOYFRIEND dumped me for another cheerleader. AS IF! Like, I’m TOTALLY the Varsity Captain. The curse has, like, really messed up my life!’ See ‘bastian, the curse is really REAL!” Tristen smiled at him with triumph.

Sebastian, feeling a migraine coming on, rubbed his forehead. “Oh…my…FRELLING GOD, Tristen! Please don’t tell me that you are reading high school B.S. drama and taking it for validation of a curse! Please, please, PLEASE tell me that you aren’t.”

Tristen, feeling more hurt than she had earlier that day, got up from the computer, walked downstairs, turned on the television, and cranked the volume up high. Her heart burned in her chest with sadness.

Sebastian sighed, and got up to follow Tristen. Ansley who, along with Hunter, had heard everything, stepped in front of him. “Sebastian, let her be. Anything you say to her right now will just hurt her feelings more.”

Sebastian looked at his mother and sighed. “Mom, she thinks she’s cursed because she dropped some stupid stick…”

Ansley motioned for him to stop. “I know how you feel Sebastian, and you are correct in thinking the way you do. The author might make other parts of the family infertile, but you are the heir.

“And I also happen to know for a fact that she likes you. What harm is it to let Tristen think she is cursed? We both know that she isn’t, and you will eventually produce an heir or three. You both just need to relax and let it happen.”

Sebastian just looked doubtfully at his mother.

Ansley pulled out a gift and handed it to Sebastian. “Here. Take this. It’s the deed to a beach house in Twikkii Island that your father and I bought for you for your wedding. It’s also a gift to show how proud we are at how you stepped up to the plate regarding the heirship. Why don’t you and Tristen go on a vacation. Relax a little. Have some fun in the sun. Take a powder. However you want to say it. You both really need to unwind.”

Sebastian took the gift with a lopsided smile, “Thanks Mom, I really appreciate it. Did you really mean what you said about the author liking me?” Ansley kissed her son’s cheek.

“Abso’freakin’lutely,” she replied with a smile, “now, why don’t you go downstairs and tell Tristen that you are booking a vacation. Your father and I can hold down the fort for the week.”

Sebastian nodded with a grin, and walked down the stairs with a slight spring in his step.

Hunter, hearing everything, walked up to Ansley and caressed her. “You are an amazing mother,” he said adoringly to her.

Ansley smiled at Hunter and placed her hand on his chest. “That’s only because I have an amazing husband. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for you.”

Downstairs, Sebastian approached Tristen. She turned off the television, got up, and softly placed her hand in his own outstretched one. Grasping it softly, Sebastian smiled at his wife and softly said, “Hey Tris, how about you and I go on a honeymoon.”

Chapter Three

Lillian stared at herself in the mirror noticing that though she was in her third trimester of her pregnancy, the signs were not evident. She was pleased. Though she made it a point not to leave her house since her brother’s wedding, she didn’t want to take the chance that the paper boy or mailman would spread rumors, and have them get back to her family. Staying beneath the radar was always her MO; until her plans came to fruition that is.

Lillian turned away from the mirror when she head a shuffling behind her. Her lips twisted slightly in what some might consider a smile. “Your mother eats the fungus from the feet of lepers,” she taunted the waiting figure.

Remington’s face muscles twitched, uncontrollably, as he replied, “I’ve been meaning to speak to her about that.” Lillian nodded to herself, pleased that there was no resistance from him. He was going to be an excellent minion.

“What have you to report, Man Maid?” she asked him.

“It seems that the current heir has failed to produce a child so far,” Remington replied as his head lolled to the side, “There also seems to be tensions arising between him and his wife.”

“I am the heir!” Lillian hissed, “Never refer to HIM as heir again!” Remington just nodded in acceptance.

Then Lillian cackled gleefully. “Excellent. Now, all we have to do now is wait until my child is born and prevent my brother’s wife from reproducing. Have you placed the ad?”

“Yes, but it will take a week or so for it to appear in the newspaper. Aren’t you worried that other people will inquire?”

“Ah. I will simply tell them that the product is sold out,” she dismissively replied.

“Very clever, my mistress. You spoke earlier of your impending childbirth. When is that going to happen?”

As if on cue, Lillian felt a stabbing contraction. “It appears, Man Maid, that it is happening now.” Lillian tried very hard not to scream in front of the reanimated help.

Remington watched impassively. “Ah, so it appears,” he said. Then a small smile slipped through, “I suppose now would not be a good time to inform you, then, that your brother and his wife decided to go on vacation. So the ad that was placed won’t be seen by them. You might have to run it again.”

Lillian’s screams echoed through the night. If there were neighbors in the vicinity, they might wonder if it was a scream of pain, or one of anger.

But, Lillian had no neighbors; so the unasked question would remain unanswered.

After what felt like her entire insides being ripped out, Lillian examined her newborn son. Without a hint of a smile she spoke to him, “Zane, you will be the most perfect specimen to carry on the Legacy after I reclaim the throne.”

Zane looked at his mother curiously, and reached out to pull at her nose. Lillian pulled her head away and glared at him sternly. “I think not child. Now is not the time for play. Part three of my plan has come to pass, yet I still have to wait for part two to happen. We must not get too far ahead of ourselves.”

It was then that she smiled; it was not a smile of kindness, but Zane was unable to tell the difference at such a young age, so he smiled innocently back. When he was placed in his crib, he slept contentedly while his mother watched over him with a small, cruel smile.

Chapter Four

Sebastian looked over at Tristen to see her reaction to the beach house. Beach estate, he mentally corrected himself. Seeing that her face was expressionless, he asked her, “So Tris, what do you think?”

Tristen turned and threw her arms around him and planted a big kiss on his lips. “Oh! It is the most perfectly perfect funnest looking place in the whole wide world, sweetie!” she exclaimed. “I am so totally glad that we decided to come here.”

Sebastian grinned happily at her enthusiasm; it was the first genuine smile he had seen from her in days.

After inspecting the house that they would be living in for the next week, the bedroom in particular, the pair laid on the beach and watched the waves roll in. Tristen snuggled close to Sebastian and sighed.

“So, when we DO have babies, what do you think we should name them? I like Paige for a girl and Rick for a boy. What do you think?” Sebastian succeeded in not sighing and just kissed her nose.

“Tris…how about we not think about it right now, okay? The point of this vacation is to relax and not feel pressured. Why don’t we just have FUN and worry about babies and baby names when we get back home. I just want to spend time with you. How does that sound?” Tristen bit her lip, but just nodded in response.

However, when night fell, Tristen was feeling a bit restless. Seeing that Sebastian looked ready to settle in for the night, she called out to him, “I’m gonna go poke around the village for a while, wanna come with?”

“Nah, you go on ahead,” he replied back, “the jet lag is starting to catch up with me. Be careful, ‘kay?”

a

Tristen was only slightly disappointed that Sebastian didn’t join her. However, she felt it would be for the best, as he usually showed disdain for all things superstitious. And where she REALLY wanted to go, a place she read about online, was about as voodoo and superstitious as one could get.

Finding the Witchdoctor was easier than she thought. Of course, now that his patented Mr. Mickles was a rather commercial product, she figured that the entire ‘Secret Hut’ thing was more of a marketing gimmick than an actual ploy to deter people. In fact, she downright suspected that the man standing in front of her wasn’t even the real Witchdoctor, but someone dressed like him; kind of like a mall Santa Claus.

“And I don’t even have to PAY for Mr. Mickles?” Tristen asked the suspected Pseudo-Witchdoctor.

“Not in any form of actual simoleons. However, you do need to pay in favors,” the man replied, affecting a rather fake sounding old man voice.

Tristen had absolutely no problems performing the maintenance tasks. She, however, DID have a problem with the man watching her backside waggle in the air as she fit her arm under the dishwasher.

She didn’t say anything though. If that was what it took to get Mr. Mickles, then she felt she could grin and bear it.

Her patience did not disappoint. “Mr. Mickles will give me what I want?” she asked the man.

The man grinned under his mask, “Oh, of course. After a fashion it gives everyone what they want,” he replied in a used car salesman voice.

Tristen jumped up into the air in a spontaneous cheer. “Awesome-o 2000!” she cried.

The Witchdoctor watched with interest, “THAT’S where I recognize you from. I saw you in an X-Treme Cheerleading competition a few years back on ESPN 8, ‘The Ocho’!” And he trailed off, distracted, clearly in his “happy place”.

Tristen, for her part, didn’t notice. She had glanced outside and saw that the sun was rising and she needed to get back to Sebastian; he had planned for them to go to some boring ancient ruins. She quickly said her goodbyes and hurried back to the beach house.

“Tris, aren’t you tired?” Sebastian asked, “You were out all night…”

“I’m really, really fine ’bastian,” she interrupted. The ruins were really boring, like she had thought they would be, but Sebastian seemed to like them so she was willing to feign interest . She stopped in her tracks as something of TRUE interest caught her eye. Glancing back at her husband she continued with, “But I’m super duper hungry. Can you get us some food? I just want to see this real quick.”

Sebastian shrugged and went to the food counter to order food with the ever present pineapple in it.

Tristen walked up to the intimidating water fountain and noticed that there were a bunch of coins strewn about in the water. Realizing that it was a wishing fountain, Tristen pulled out a coin of her own.

As she glanced at the coin in her hand, she felt her wish in the deepest part of her heart. “I know that Mr. Mickles will grant me what I want,” she said softly to herself, “but a little extra luck won’t hurt.” She closed her eyes and made her wish.

I wish to have babies, she thought, and she tossed the coin into the water. After watching it sink directly to the bottom, she waited for a moment as if expecting to hear a lullaby right then and there. She then shook her head with a smile and skipped back to Sebastian to eat their food.

After exploring the ruins thoroughly, the two of them made their way back home. Barely containing her excitement, Tristen immediately pulled out the Mr. Mickles doll and made her most desired wish.

“Make me pregnant with Sebastian’s baby Mr. Mickles,” she commanded the doll. As the doll began to glow in a strange red light, Tristen’s heart began to beat faster.

In fact, her heart began to beat too fast. She dropped Mr. Mickles as her skin began to feel overly flushed, sweat running down her face. “I don’t think this is what’s supposed to happen…” Tristen said, her vision tunneling to a pinpoint.

Sebastian, who was heading into the house, looked back at Tristen in time to see her collapse. His heart lurched in his throat as he ran as fast as he could to her still form. “Oh my God, Tristen!” he said in a panicked tone. He knelt down beside her, cradling her head in his arms as he patted her cheek. “Come on honey, wake up!”

Groggily, Tristen was roused. Blinking slowly, she managed to get herself in an upright sitting position. Looking up at Sebastian, she saw that he was holding Mr. Mickles, looking at the doll like it was a piece of stinky garbage.

“Where did you get this, Tris?” Sebastian asked in a worried tone. Instead of answering, Tristen tried to stand up, but found that her legs wouldn’t support her weight.

Sebastian, fortunately, managed to catch her. Tossing the doll to the side, he picked Tristen up. Tristen’s eyes began to close again as she fainted on his shoulder. Sebastian carried her to bed, chest thumping with worry the entire time.

Chapter Five

Tristen sighed irritably as she lay on the hammock. I’m surprised I’m allowed to do this much, she thought to herself. Ever since the episode with the Mr. Mickles doll, Sebastian had been hovering over her like an over protective mother hen. Even though she tried to convince him that she had only passed out from exhaustion, he had a rather vexing ability to see the truth.

He had also thrown the offending doll out, overriding her protests that it wasn’t Mr. Mickles’ fault. “My mother said that there is to be no evil magic allowed in the household,” he told her patiently, “and this doll made you very sick, Tris. What can be more evil than that?”

Not being able to have babies yet is pretty evil, she continued with her inner monologue. She closed her eyes as she heard Sebastian walking up to her.

“How are you doing, Tris?” Sebastian asked.

“Fine.” Tristen curtly responded in the patented female tone that indicated that everything was NOT fine at all.

Sebastian sighed. “I was figuring, if you were feeling up to it, that maybe you and I could go on that helicopter tour we read about in the tourist pamphlet.”

“I don’t know ‘bastian. Do you think I might be strong enough?” she asked meanly, still keeping her eyes closed.

Sebastian rolled his eyes at her tone. “Whatever Tristen,” he snapped back at her, turning to walk away.

Tristen let out an exasperated sigh as she got up from the hammock. “Wait hon,” she called after him, “I do want to go.” She summoned a smile to her face as she mentally added, It might be the last fun thing I’m allowed to do on this vacation.

However much she tried to convince herself that she was fine though, she found that the loud helicopter was making her head pound. She took a deep breath and smiled at Sebastian.

However, it didn’t stop her from groaning audibly when he placed his hand on her arm as if to keep her steady. “I’m fine,” she snapped, pulling her arm away. Sebastian gave her a hurt look.

“I was only trying to…”

“Stop treating me like a BABY!” she shot back at him as she settled into the seat.

It turned out that Tristen wasn’t fine though. As soon as the tour was over, Tristen jumped from the helicopter and lost her lunch all over the pavement; unable to hide her sickness from Sebastian.

That, compounded with the fact that she fainted again that night, made Sebastian come up with a rather unfair (in her opinion) proclamation.

“Bed rest,” Sebastian said to her when she awoke in the bed, “all of these activities are clearly agitating your body. You need to rest and recover fully.”

“But that’s not fair! I thought this vacation was supposed to be about relaxing and having fun…”

“Is this FUN for you? Do you think this is fun for ME? Tris, you can barely stomach down any food and you keep getting sick and passing out. All because you thought that some stupid voodoo doll was going to make you pregnant!”

“How did you…”

“I KNOW you, that’s how.”

Tristen plaintively sighed. “If you loved me…”

Sebastian interrupted her again, angrily this time. “I DO love you. For God’s sake Tristen, I’m WORRIED about you. GAH! You know what? I’m done with this conversation. If you don’t think I love you, then fine. Whatever.” He snatched up his pillow and went downstairs to sleep on the couch.

Two days before their vacation ended, Sebastian found himself watching the sunrise over the ocean. He had only spent one night sleeping on the couch, as he and Tristen made up the next day. However, he was still upset by her thought that he didn’t love her. He idly picked up a beach stone and chucked it into the oncoming waves.

He glanced over his shoulder as he heard Tristen softly kneel down next to him. He watched as she mindlessly started digging in the sand.

“You DO know that I love you, right Tris?” he asked her.

Tristen half shrugged in response, “Yeah. I know,” she said, not looking at him. Sebastian sighed and stood up, reaching his hand out to her to help her up.

He gently rubbed her back, caressing the soft skin. “I don’t mean to be so over protective,” he began, willing her to understand, “it’s just…well, if anything bad happened to you. Well, I would die. I’m sorry if it comes across as mean. The last thing I want to do is hurt your feelings, you know?” Tristen only nodded in response.

He sighed and kissed her neck. “Hey, I know, how about we go to the spa and get a massage, hm?”

Tristen looked at him. “I…” she began, ready to reply with a snarky comment. She saw the pensive look in his eye and she decided against it. “…would love to go. That sounds like super duper fun!”

And it WAS fun. Tristen smiled sleepily as the stones worked their relaxing heat into her tense muscles. “Mmmmm. God,” she groaned, “you HAVE to teach this to my husband.”

Amy, the massage therapist, just smiled. “If your husband wishes to learn this technique, then he’ll have to pay $500 for the lesson.”

Tristen lethargically waved her hand, “Oh, he’ll pay it. He likes learning new things…Oh! That’s the spot!”

And the rest of the massage was silent except for a few appreciative sighs.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was brooding. After tomorrow, all the baby pressure is on again. He scoffed to himself. Rather, it’s going to continue. He sighed heavily. The vacation was alright, but with Tristen’s idiotic beliefs in curses, voodoo, and superstition, all leading to her unwittingly hurting herself, he was looking forward to going home.

Back home where it’s sane. He laughed out loud. How pathetic is that when I’m considering all the stuff going on at home as sanity. Ugh. He rested his head in his hands as he continued to laugh. Fortunately for him, nobody else had joined him in the sauna.

Chapter Six

Lillian watched the fluttering birds that were outside her window with a strong hint of paranoia. The more time she spent trapped in the house, the stronger her suspicions were:

She was being watched.

“Momma?” The small voice from behind made her jump a bit.

Lillian walked over to the small child, now a toddler, and picked him up. Looking sternly at him she asked, “What is it, my child?”

Zane giggled and pointed, “Who is that strange person and what is he doing?” he asked, his communication skills far beyond his age.

Lillian looked to where the boy was pointing.

“Ah. That is Man Maid, my dear boy. He is an idiot. Pay him no attention, except as a reminder to you to always remember to do as I say. Otherwise you will be punished, as the wretched Man Maid was.”

Zane pondered her statement. “Okay Momma,” he replied with a sweet smile, “can I hear a story now?”

Lillian, of course, was more than willing to tell Zane tales of comeuppance. “And then, Zane, do you know what the Three Bears did to Goldilocks?”

Zane, enthralled asked her, “What Momma?”

“They ate her up! For you see, Goldilocks was a wicked girl. She had broken into the Three Bears’ house, ate the food that they had worked so very hard for, dirtied up their furniture and mussed their beds! What a shameful thing for her to do. Goldilocks’ mother had taught her much better than that, but Goldilocks was a very naughty, disobedient girl. So the Three Bears taught her to folly of her ways. Do you know what the lesson of this story is, my son?”

Zane, squirming with delight answered with a prompt, “What?”

Lillian jumped into his face, “That you should always listen to your mother!” she responded with glee.

Zane clapped and giggled. He loved it when his mother played and goofed around with him, even if it only was during story time.

Lillian, seeing that Zane was responding the way she had hoped, patted her son on his head. “Alright my child, that is enough. I am going to go upstairs and make your vitamins for Man Maid to give you. They will help you grow big and strong real fast. For tomorrow is your birthday.”

Zane was confused, “But today was my birthday.”

Lillian nodded, “Yes, and tomorrow you shall have another one. Do you not want to grow big and strong?”

“Yes Momma.”

“Good, then play quietly until Man Maid gives you your vitamins.” And with a final pat, she strode out of the room.

Zane played on his security blanket, softly singing a song to himself, “Ring around the rosy. A pocket full of posies. Ashes, ashes, we all fall down!” And he fell onto his back laughing at his game. He loved his mother; his beautiful, wonderful mother who taught him that song and read him bedtime stories.

Meanwhile, in the attic, Lillian threw in the ingredients for Zane’s ‘Fast Grow’ potions and stirred them all together. When she completed it, she added a bit of strawberry flavored extract, to ensure that the boy will have no problems drinking the concoction.

Potion mixed and handed to Remington, and thus the boy, Lillian took a moment to sit down and read a bit while she collected her thoughts. I think that will be the last one I give him, she thought. I can’t have him be a teenager quite yet, it’s too soon. Almost there, but not quite.

“Yes,” she continued out loud , “far too soon. I must wait for Sebastian to come back from his little trip.”

“Oh Sebastian, you stupid, stupid boy. How easy it will be for me to claim what is rightfully mine. Just a little while longer…”

The next evening, Zane was once again singing to himself while he played with his blocks, “Happy Birthday to Zane. Happy Birthday to Zane. Happy Birthday to Zane. Happy Birthday to Zane.” He looked up with a smile as his mother walked into his bedroom. He held up his arms to have her pick him up.

“Is it birthday time Momma?” he asked as he snuggled against her.

“Yes my son, it is. Are you prepared?”

“Yes! I want to be a big boy now!”

“Indeed,” Lillian replied, setting her son on the floor.

If Zane was disappointed at the lack of a birthday cake, he didn’t show it. He smiled up at his mother as she began lecturing him.

“Zane, now that you are bigger you must begin to prepare your skills. You will inherit the Legacy after I do, and it is always best to be prepared.”

“Okay Momma,” he replied still smiling, “does this mean I get to go to school now?”

Lillian paused for a moment, appalled, before responding. “Absolutely not! I can teach you far better than any idiot teacher can. Do you not wish to continue to be here with me all day instead of leaving and going to a strange place?”

Zane turned away from his mother, not wishing to show his disappointment. “Yes Momma, I want to be here with you.”

Lillian smiled down at her obedient son. “This will be for the best. You shall see that I am right in all matters.”

“Yes Momma. I know you are Momma.”

However, when Lillian left the room, Zane dropped glumly to the floor and picked at his boots. He liked playing with Man Maid and his mother, but sometimes he really wanted to play with some other kids, too.

Chapter Seven

Sebastian and Tristen received a warm welcome home. Ansley hugged Sebastian gingerly as she saw the bright red sunburn on him. “Ouch,” she said, “did you have that the entire time?”

Sebastian laughed, “Nah. I just got it yesterday, thank God. Tris lucked out on getting the nice tan.”

Ansley looked Sebastian in the eye. Sebastian, understanding the questioning look, just shook his head in response. He tried very hard not to look disappointed. Ansley closed her eyes and sighed.

It took about a week to settle back in. A week to get reacquainted with their jobs, and more comfortably, a week to lose the itchy, peeling, sunburned skin; at least for Sebastian.

Tristen, on one of the more idle days after settling back in, found a moment to herself. She took the opportunity to read the sports section of the newspaper to see how her former cheer squad was faring after the Spirit Stick incident.

They were doing fine. However, that wasn’t what captivated her attention. An ad that was placed there was what really caught her eye.

“Dr. Bob’s Fertile Myrtle Fertility Formula,” she whispered to herself, excitement rising, “that is EXACTLY what I need.”

She popped her head over the newspaper to see if anyone was in the room. When she saw that she was alone, she took the paper to the phone and dialed the local phone number listed in the ad.

“Hello?” the voice answering the phone said in an irritated tone.

“Hello, yes. Who do I talk to about ordering the Fertility Formula?” Tristen asked with a grin.

Lillian sighed irritably. She was getting tired of all the phone calls and she was contemplating on changing her phone number.

“That all depends. Who am I speaking to?”

“Oh. This is Tristen Devereaux. Do I have the wrong number?”

Lillian straightened up and changed the tone of her voice. “Ah. Yes. You can place your order with me. How many bottles would you like?”

“Is one enough?”

“More than. I will put you down for one bottle. I can have it delivered tonight if you wish.”

“Hooray!”

“I will take that as a ‘yes’ then. Please have the cash available. You can just give it to the delivery man.”

Lillian hung up the phone and looked at it with a smirk. It was too easy.

Tristen, excited for night to come, skipped out to the garbage can and buried the newspaper under some of the waste. She didn’t want to ruin the surprise for Sebastian. She also didn’t want him to become all over protective again and take the Formula away from her.

She felt a little bad keeping secrets from him; but when she came up pregnant, it would be completely worth it.

It never occurred to her that the woman on the telephone didn’t ask for Tristen’s home address.

“Sebastian, I already made the appointment,” Ansley said to her rather embarrassed son. Ansley thought about how best to broach the subject with her child. In the end, she felt straight forward was the best. “It doesn’t hurt to just get checked out. Won’t you both feel so much better when you find out that there is nothing physically wrong with either of you?”

Sebastian rubbed his head in frustration. “Yeah, Mom, it would. But you could have at least asked first.”

Ansley rolled her eyes. “Well Sebastian, you can either go to the clinic, or I can check you out here. Which would you prefer?”

His eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed at the horrible picture in his mind. Ansley just smiled sweetly.

“That’s what I thought. Your appointment is in half and hour. You should probably leave now if you are to make it in time. Good luck!”

“Thanks,” Sebastian responded, making the sarcasm clear in his tone.

As Tristen and Sebastian walked to their appointment, Tristen looked the building over with a curious eye. “This doesn’t look like a hospital to me,” she said in a critical tone.

Sebastian, thinning patience evident in his voice, responded without looking back at her. “That’s because it’s not. It’s a clinic.”

“Oh…”

It was only the two of them who sat in the waiting room. Apparently the clinic was usually closed on Sundays, but Ansley managed to pull a few strings. The two of them were silent as they waited for the doctor, who greeted them warmly.

“Ah, hello Mr. and Mrs. Devereaux. I’m pleased to finally meet you. I’m Dr. Blythe, but you can call me Gilbert if you would like. Mr. Devereaux, your mother was a good friend to me while we both worked at the hospital together. I’m glad I can return the favor to her.” He smiled down at the tense looking couple.

Sebastian just nodded, looking at a picture on the wall across from him. “Yeah. Thanks. So, can we get this over with?”

Dr. Blythe nodded, “Oh, absolutely. Which one of you wants to go first?”

Sebastian stood up and sighed, “I will,” he hated being poked and prodded, so he wanted the embarrassing examination to be over as soon as possible. As he followed Dr. Blythe into the exam room, Tristen put her hand out and touched Sebastian’s arm in a comforting manner.

When Tristen’s own examination was done, she looked over at the doctor. “So, is there anything wrong with my body?” she asked in a worried tone. The doctor shook his head.

“Not that I can see, Mrs. Devereaux. But I need to run your blood work through the plot exposition machine in the corner.”

“The what?” Tristen asked, confused.

“You know, the machines that they use on CSI? Normally those machines take hours, or even days, to gather the data; but my clinic was fortunate enough to get a hold of one of the CSI ones, so it should only take about five or ten minutes. If you will just sit in the waiting room, I will spare you the ‘examining blood work’ montage.”

Montage over and inspirational music turned off, Dr. Blythe gathered his two waiting patients an led them into his office. He waited until he sat down before delivering them the news.

“Both of you are perfectly fine and healthy. There is no reason for either of you to think that you are incapable of having children.”

Sebastian smiled with relief. “So pretty much what you’re saying Dr. Blythe, is that we just need to relax? It’ll happen when it happens?”

The doctor nodded. “I know that the pressure is on, you being a Legacy heir, and your wife being a Family Sim, but yes. Just relax. The stress of ‘trying’ to have a baby often times is counter productive.”

Tristen said nothing. All she could think of was that neither of them understood.

As they both got into the taxi, Tristen smiled to herself. She was getting the Fertility Formula tonight. All the talk of not stressing out was making her…stress out. But that was going to change. She was getting pregnant that night.

She could barely eat, she was so excited. She kept looking out the window, waiting for the delivery man. Her patience was rewarded when eventually, an almost familiar looking zombie dressed in a UPS uniform walked up to the house.

She ran outside to greet him, not wanting anyone in the house to hear the doorbell ring. The UPS delivery zombie smiled as he handed her the package. “Tristen Devereaux?” the zombie asked. She nodded. “Okay ma’am, just sign right here. And that will be $21.39. Taxes you know.”

Tristen handed him $25 and told the delivery zombie to keep the change as a tip. She suppressed the urge to hug him as she slipped the potion bottle into her pocket.

She sauntered inside the house and grabbed Sebastian, giving him a huge kiss. “Meet me in the bedroom. Five minutes. Wear as little clothing as possible,” she said in a seductive voice. Sebastian grinned widely and complied.

“Wow,” Sebastian appreciatively said as Tristen entered the bedroom, “how YOU doin’?”

Tristen brushed a strand of hair from her face and jutted her hips in a pose, “Pretty good, how ‘bout yourself?”

Sebastian grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Just let me drink this, and then I’ll join you,” Tristen said as she pulled out the potion bottle.

Sebastian gave a startled jerk. “What, wait, what is that?” and he started to get out of the bed.

It was too late though, Tristen gulped the entire bottle down before Sebastian could take it away from her. She smiled at him. “It’s okay, it’ll help us have a--” her words were cut off as a stabbing pain cut through her body.

She fell to the floor in what seemed like slow motion to Sebastian. As he, in what also felt like slow motion, tried to reach her, he felt a distinct chill as a third figure entered the bedroom.

“Suicides. Those also make my job interesting,” Grim said in his non-booming voice. The person he was collecting was already dead, so there was no need to impress and intimidate. He shook his head as he flipped through the names on his clipboard.

“Oh my God….

….Tristen…”

***

Epilogue

“Babies,” I said to the small girl I was holding in my arm, “babies always brighten up a mood. Yes they do. And you, my little genetic experiment, are the perfect distraction from that last depressing scene.”

I heard Keith sigh as he walked over to me to take the child from my arms. Of course, he was STILL in his underwear. I sincerely think he has a problem.

“Her name is Amelia, Ang. She’s not going to appreciate you calling her Genetic Experiment,” he said as he carried our daughter to her birthday cake.

“…oh, who am I kidding,” I replied, “Amelia is absolutely precious. I hope any real kid we have looks half as good as she does.” And I pulled out a noisemaker to celebrate Amelia turning into a toddler.

And, of course she is. She has my eyes and hair color, and Keith’s cheeks. She’s going to be heartbreaker when she gets older.

Keith carried Amelia upstairs to change her into a princess dress. Apparently he IS aware that dressers work. I think he just likes strutting around and showing off the idealized version of his body.

As he snuggled Amelia to him, he looked curiously out the window at a faint, strange sound he suddenly heard.

“Ang?” he called down the stairs, interrupting my random bottle juggling, “Is that sound normal for this game?”

I put the bottles away. “What sound is he talking about…?”

And then I heard it. “Uh, oh. That’s not a GOOD sound…”

“Huh…well doesn’t THAT suck…”

***

Thank you all for reading. Oh, and a special thanks to my husband for the Photo Shopped pictures. He has a talent for it, as I do not. I’m sure the rebuild won’t be too painful and as I said before, I’m kinda looking forward to a fresh game. I can see this picking back up in a month or so.

So, until then, Happy Simming!