They had a connection.

Disagreeing on every single thing, but as strange as it sounded; it was refreshing. Every woman Harry had dated in the past pretended to be something they were not, simply to impress him.

Salt doesn't go with salt; but the perfectly even amount of salt and pepper, in that case, makes the perfect combination.

Ironically, the only thing they ever did agree on was food. And a whole lot of it at that. Harraël was a naturally big eater, whereas Moira let the pregnancy cravings take control of her.

All in all, food was their own, personal white flag.

Over the past months, both of them could've sworn they'd laughed more than they had in the past 10 years. Moira because she didn't have much reason to before, and Harry because he had to keep up a certain image; the hot, pokerface lead singer of Bones. He was supposed to be badass, not full of smiles, rainbows and unicorns.

Each of them had their own list of problems, and reasons for being who they were. Together, they completed each other. Filling up the spaces that had once been empty, replacing dark clouds with sunshine. But how long would the good weather last?

They'd just gone outdoors for a well-deserved breakfast; to celebrate Moira sleeping through the night. Which was a once in a blue moon occurrence these days.

"Home at last," She muttered, unlocking her front door before stepping aside to let Harry in first. He immediately made way for the couch.

Eating half of his weight in eggs and bacon had tired him out.

"Hey Haz?"

He paused, holding the remote halfway up, planning on watching television. She was just closing the door, her eyes glued to him.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to come to the doctor's with me?" She asked, rubbing the back of her neck –a nervous gesture– as her cheeks turned a pretty pink color. He smiled, and she offered him a shy smile of her own in return. Her eyes wandering all around the open-plan space, as if avoiding his answer. In case it was the opposite of what she wanted to hear.

"Of course!" He beamed, making a relieved expression appear on Moira's face.

"Good! We leave in 20 minutes."

*********

The ride was silent, until Harraël's phone rang.

"Yo," he answered, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Hey baby," an all-too-familiar voice purred over the phone –one of his ex-whores– and he snickered at her pathetic attempt at sounding seductive.

"Bye," he hung up, huffing. It was about time he changed his number again, having had this one for 8 months already. A new record. How the groupies managed to find it time and time again, was beyond him.

Moira sent him a questioning look, silently asking who was on the phone.

"No one," He paused, rubbing his forehead. "Wrong number."

As always, Harry had insisted on driving. Even though it was Moira's car. He'd used the ever-so-original excuse 'I'm gonna drive, it'll be safer'.

"Why are we going to the doctor's anyway? Is there something wrong?" His words became frantic at the end of the sentence.

Rolling her eyes, Moira let out a short, high pitched giggle. "There's nothing wrong, don't worry. It's just a check-up."

"Why?"

"It's my due date, and as it appears, Ollie hasn't been born yet."

"Wait. It's your due date today?!"

"Yes, I think we've already established that," She recalled, sarcastically.

********

“Hey honey!” the cheery receptionist called out. She sat behind a tall booth and had been typing away at the keyboard in front of her, but looked up as the pair approached. “Here to see Dr. Patel?”

“Yes, just another check-up.” Moira nodded.

“Okay, hold on a second.” She moved a few folders that had been covering the computer mouse, and she clicked on the screen a few times. “I notified her you’ve arrived, you can take a seat.” She smiled at her and then did a double take as her eyes landed on a nervous looking Harraël. “Aren’t you that guy from the toothpaste commercial?”

Moira burst out laughing, smoothly trying to cover it up with series of coughs. Emerald eyes hardened to forged steel as Harraël shot her a warning look.

“No, you must be mistaken.” He lied, bittersweetly.

The lady’s lips sank into a mischievous smile. “Are you the daddy then?”

His eyed widened to an unnatural size, speechless. But Moira was quick to step in, “No, he’s just a friend.”

“Oh I see,” She said, sounding doubtful. “It’s nice meeting you.”

“Ditto.” He smiled politely, as Moira then proceeded to tug him away from the amiable woman by his elbow, towards the furthest seats in the waiting room.

“She seemed to like you.” She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly at him, though there was a slight undertone of jealousy. The receptionist wasn’t an unattractive woman.

“Zip it, princess.” He told her, rolling his eyes.

“Princess is new.” She nudged his shoulder.

“It suits you. Your surname is King, but I’m not going to call you Queen because you’re not married yet so Princess is the next best thing.”

Opening her mouth, she was about to reply when she was being interrupted by someone calling her name. “Moira King?”

Both Moira and Harry looked up to see an unfamiliar doctor looking around the waiting room.

“That’s us,” Moira said, sighing, as she got up on her sore feet. Harry following behind. “Where’s Dr. Patel?” She asked the doctor, confused.

“Dr. Patel had an emergency to tend to. She only had an ultrasound and a simple check-up planned for you, nothing too hectic so I hope it’s alright if I take her place for now? I’m using her office as well so you don’t need to worry about a new environment.”

“Uhh do you have my file?”

“I do, but I won’t read any personal information aloud if you don’t want me to.” She glanced at Harraël for a moment, indicating that she’d understood the meaning behind Moira’s question.

“Please.”

Still not having told Harry about her unknown baby daddy or the exact way she’d gotten pregnant, Moira felt relieved. She didn’t want him to know yet, not ever actually. But she’d have to tell him, someday. It was only fair, after all the trouble they’d gone through these past months. He was her best friend, if not more than that.

Luckily, the doctor seemed to have read her file and was aware of the fact she was pregnant from donated semen and didn’t have a husband/boyfriend whatsoever. And that Moira’s relationship with Harry was only friendly.

“Great! Now if you’d follow me.”

The doctor –who was named Dr. Brannen– spent the first 15 minutes asking the usual questions, if she’d been sleeping enough, eating healthy, the hormones, Ollie kicking/moving, et cetera.

“Right,” Dr. Brannen heaved herself up from her seat, and walked towards the cupboard where she pulled some gloves out of a box. Knowing what was going to happen next, since Moira had been through this many times before, she laid down on the examination table. Lifting her sweater and exposing her –now big sized– baby bump, she tried to ignore Harry’s piercing stare that was burning into the skin of her belly, but it was near to impossible when it made her feel so warm and fluttery inside.

She sucked in a sharp breath when –without warning– the ice-cold gel was evenly spread over her bump.

Dr. Brannen began moving the wand over her gelled-skin, while closely inspecting the video screen on which a grainy image of the ultrasound was displayed.

“As far as I can see, you have a very healthy baby,” The doctor informed her after a short silence.

Moira turned to Harry, beyond curious since he’d been awfully quiet this whole time. “What do you think?”

“Tha-that’s Ollie,” He whispered so low that his words were raspy and barely audible.

“It is,” Moira spoke softly, mesmerized by the look of complete wonder that was spread across his face. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was on the verge of tears. “Why don’t you touch my bump and see if he reacts?"

“Really?” He sounded like a kid on Christmas Eve.

She giggled, “Of course, Haz. Go ahead.”

A little hesitant, the index finger of his hand reached out and gently prodded at her belly. He didn’t even seem to mind the sticky gel. His head cocked to the side as he considered her stomach, waiting.

When the baby kicked in nearly the same spot, his eyebrows drew together and he sucked his lower lip in, concentrating as he poked in a second spot. Ollie responded again and Harry had never looked happier. His face cleared and he laughed, the massive smile never fading.

Doing this twice more, his eyes switched between looking at the screen and her bump; like some sort of game. He patted her tummy tenderly –still not caring about the gel– and chuckled happily, smiling up at Moira, with dimples and all.

The sight took her breath away.

The dazzling light that beamed from the look he was giving her, held her in trance. She’d nearly forgotten how unconditionally and irrevocably handsome he was.

Suddenly, Harry leaned forward and brought his face closer to hers. They were both caught in the moment and she knew what was going to happen, so she closed her eyes.

Harraël could feel the blood course through his veins as he gently pressed his lips to hers. Entirely ignoring the presence of the other adult in the room as he poured all of his emotions into that one kiss. The sensation was unbelievable; his feelings for her even stronger than before. He wanted to drown in them, in her, and let the sparks take hold of his heart.

But he couldn’t, he told himself forcefully. Knowing that Moira was not ready for that kind of step. He had to exhibit a modicum of restraint, even if it was killing him inside. Somehow, he managed to stand there rigidly under their onslaught of each other’s mouths.

Unfortunately, all good things must eventually end.

And as they parted, it was like something had shifted between them.