Shhh...

"SURPRISE!" Jordan and Alaric shouted, as his mother opened the door.

Finoula MacLeod put her hand to her heart in shock, and started to cry, as her newly minted daughter-in-law and her youngest son surged forward to hug her. She smacked him about the shoulders in mock anger as she pulled her daughter-in-law to her side... "You awful child! You told me that you weren't coming!"

Alaric just hugged her tighter and nuzzled his face into her neck. "I know Ma. Jordan wanted to tell you-"

"It's true! I did!" The diminutive bride piped up from under Finoula's arm, her arms wrapped around her mother-in-law's waist, her tawny gamine face surrounded by a cloud of coffee-coloured curls.

"--but Dad and I thought that it might be a nice surprise," Alaric finished.

"Your father was in on this, too?" Finoula asked in surprise.

"Guilty," Alasdair MacLeod said as he sauntered into the room.

Finoula gave him a teasingly dark look. "I'll deal with you later!"

Her husband grinned, his green eyes twinkling as he sat down in his easy chair, and inclined his thickly silvered head. "Promises, promises," he laughed.

"Awww, Ma, you're not really angry, are you?" Alaric wheedled.

She beamed up into her son's face, cupping his cheek as she rubbed his wife's back. "Nah," she said. "But now I know why your father wouldn't let me take the baked beans off of the menu. I should have known. You two are the only ones who eat them."

"Thanks, Dad," Alaric said to his father, who nodded, looking satisfied.

"Well, we can't just stand here heating the outside!" Finoula said. "Alasdair—bring in their things."

"I'll help," Alaric said. Alasdair clapped his son on the back, and they headed outside.

The new Mrs. Jordan MacLeod stood shyly in front of her mother-in-law. "I really did want to tell you," she said softly. "I know how hard it can be to plan a Thanksgiving even without unexpected surprises. Is anyone else here, yet?"

Finoula waved her hand dismissively. "Blair and Sylvia are already upstairs, unpacking. Don't worry about the surprise; it's fine." Her wide, dark grey eyes twinkled mischievously as she wrapped her arm around Jordan's shoulders and affectionately bumped her with her hip. "I know just how persuasive MacLeod men can be." Jordan looked down at the floor, blushing as she tried to hide a grin. Finoula just laughed as the men returned, carrying the luggage.

Alaric took one look at his wife's face and laughed, "Aw, Ma—what did you say?"

Finoula put her hand on her hip and said, "Nothing. I merely asked when you two are planning on giving me some grandchildren!"

Jordan's head jerked up in shock, her doe-brown eyes wide, as Alaric's face turned a mottled shade of red.

Finoula sauntered over to her husband and said in a mock whisper, "It's so easy, isn't it?"

He grinned as he looked at the faces of his children. "Were we ever like that?"

She winked at him, "Well, you were, Mr. MacLeod."

He laughed and kissed her on the cheek as he left to carry the bags upstairs to Alaric's room.

"Well," Finoula said briskly, coaxing a stray strand back into her large salt and pepper bun, "Are you hungry?"

Jordan and Alaric looked at each other. "Starving," he said.

"I should think so! Only a week off from a three-week honeymoon! I'm surprised that you two can even walk straight."

"Ma!" Alaric said in shock as his wife's face took on interesting new shades of crimson.

Finoula grinned at the dismay in her son's shocked hazel eyes, and rubbed together her hands, cackling. "Revenge will be sweet, my darling."

Jordan shook her head and muttered to her husband, "Told you that we should have told her."

Laughing, Finoula ushered them into the kitchen. "Alaric, let this be a lesson to you—always listen to the wise counsel of your wife!"

Jordan and Alaric sat down at the bar chatting while Finoula re-heated a few baked potatoes. "I'm sorry that I don't have more for you," she said, splitting them open and piling them high with broccoli, nonfat sour cream, cheese, roasted garlic, and green onion, "But we don't have much besides Thanksgiving fixings right now."

"It's alright, Finoula," Jordan said, as her husband studiously stuffed his face with steaming hot potato. "After all, you didn't know that we were coming. By the way, when are--" She was interrupted by the sound of the front door bursting open and loud, cheery voices chattering in the hall. "Ah. Speaking of."

Finoula smiled at her, and then hurried from the kitchen to see which of her other children had arrived.

Alaric smiled at Jordan as she tucked into her potato. "Would you like a glass of milk?" he asked. She nodded, still eating, and he poured a couple of glasses for them both. By the time he sat back down, his older sister, her husband, and their three children had all made their way into the kitchen.

Lorrigan kissed the top of her brother's head and the side of her new sister-in-laws cheek, dark wavy hair swirling around her face. "Good to see that you two are finally upright and taking nourishment," she laughed.

Jordan smiled at her, nodding at Alaric as he started to give her half of the remaining potato. "Why, Pot!" she drawled. "Surely someone with two children and one on the way wouldn't be teasing the kettle about staying upright."

Lorrigan's husband, Bryan, laughed as he came up behind his wife to lay a hand on her rounded belly. "What can I say," he chuckled, rubbing her tummy, "She can't get enough of me. I told her that I had a headache, but the woman just won't take no for an answer. I feel so cheap!"

Lorrigan rolled her expressive hazel eyes and laid her hand over his. "You'll take it and you'll like it!"

"Yes ma'am," he said, giving her an exaggerated kiss on the neck. A tiny, pudgy hand clamped onto Jordan's sleeve and she looked down to see her sloe-eyed, tow-headed niece calmly climbing into her lap. "Lydia," Bryan began warningly, his golden brows snapping together over wintry grey eyes.

"It's alright," Jordan said, settling the toddler on her lap and feeding her a bit of potato.

"You keep that one," Lorrigan said, "We'll take the other and go settle. If I know Mom, she's up in my room, trying to unpack everything and put it away herself. Come on Victor." she called to her son. "If you behave, we'll find some cookies for you after we're done upstairs." The shy, silver-haired, six-year-old boy trotted dutifully after his parents. Jordan could hear Bryan heartily greeting his father-in-law as the crowd passed through the living room.

Alaric watched as Jordan continued to feed his niece bites of baked potato. "She really likes you," he said, smiling and reaching out a hand to slowly stroke his wife's pretty brown skin.

Jordan lightly bounced Lydia, while stroking her hair. "Well, that's because she has excellent taste, don't you?" she asked.

Lydia nodded. "I have 'skellent taste," she announced solemnly.

"Well, there you have it," he said seriously. They continued to eat in silence but, after a while, he looked up at Jordan. "So, do you want one, Princess?"

"Ohhh, no! I'm quite happy being an auntie right now, thank you very much. Besides, this is definitely not the time. We're both still working on our theses, and...we're poor, so regardless of what our parents want...not so much."

Alaric nodded, and reached out to gently stroke one of his niece's soft, plump, rosy cheeks. He grinned. "Sure is fun to practice making them, though."

"Well," Jordan said, patting Lydia's solid little belly. "You certainly are good at that.

"Good at what?" a voice boomed behind them. They turned to see Alaric's older brother, Blair, grinning at them both. He looked like an older, if shorter and more muscular, version of his little brother. He moved forward to wrap his arms around Alaric's head, mussing his thick, already tousled, wavy hair. "This beanpole? The only things that he's good at are putting away copious amounts of food and hogging all of the hot water."

Alaric laughed, pushing away his brother. "Still jealous of my good looks and superior intellect, I see. It's sad, really. What are you doing with your life? Medicine? Psh. Way to low-ball, loser."

"Whatever, twerp."

"Jerk."

"Nerd."

"Dork."

"Dweeb."

Mrs. Sylvie MacLeod slipped in beside Jordan to watch the ostensible bickering between her husband and brother-in-law. Her hair was as dark as her husband's, but straight, where his was wavy, and her eyes were even darker than Jordan's. The dark hair and eyes always looked so elegantly dramatic against her creamy olive skin, Jordan thought enviously. Sylvie leaned toward Jordan and drawled, "They're still children, aren't they?"

"I should hope not," said Jordan dryly, "Or else I'm going to have Chris Hansen knocking down my door, considering what I've been doing to Alaric for the past month." Sylvie gave an uncharacteristically indelicate snort. "Where are the girls?" Jordan asked, looking for her other nieces.

"I have absolutely no idea," Sylvie said cheerfully. "Probably somewhere searching the house for the doorway to Narnia."

"That's adorable!"

"I don't know about adorable, but it is convenient." Sylvie leaned in confidentially, "If you're going to have children, make sure to have at least two. That way, they can amuse each other."

Jordan laughed. "You're terrible!"

Sylvie gave her a knowing wink. "I'm a mother who now has twins safely ensconced in the loving bosom of the private school system. What I am is grateful. Maybe now I can reacquaint myself with that little known delicacy, sleep."

"Oh, please! You know that you love your hectic schedule. Work, kids, Blair--take away any one of those, and you wouldn't know what to do with yourself. You thrive on the adrenaline high."

"Touché," Sylvie allowed.

The house shuddered as the front door slammed open, and shrieks of joy echoed through the halls. The brothers looked at each other and Blair said laconically, "Welcome Elspeth and company."

A lone scout padded into the kitchen to explore the new territory. Lydia squirmed off of Jordan's lap to go pet the enormous husky. The other two trotted in to surround the little girl, sniffing and licking her face while she giggled uncontrollably. Tall, lanky Elspeth and her even taller husband, Akio, breezed in after their dogs, with all of the children trailing eagerly behind, ready for some prime playful puppy action.

Elspeth hugged and kissed her brothers and sisters-in-law. "Hey, guys! What's new and exciting?"

"Well—" Alaric started.

"That's nice--I'm pregnant!" She grinned widely at their shocked faces.

Jordan recovered first. "Congratulations!" she said, hugging Elspeth tightly.

"I second that," Sylvie said warmly, rubbing Elspeth's shoulder.

Alaric and Blair surrounded Akio, thumping him roughly on the back and teasing. "Takahashi, you lascivious dog!"

Akio grinned and slipped an arm around Elspeth, who nuzzled into his side. "I hope that it's a girl," he said softly, looking lovingly into his wife's shining eyes, "and that she looks just like you."

Blair and Alaric made not-so-surreptitious gagging noises. Without looking, Elspeth shot out a hand and smacked them.

"Oh, burn!" Akio said, pretending to be sympathetic. He laughed at her brother's indignant faces. "With a wife like mine, who needs ADT?"

Blair smirked. "Let's see how enamoured you still are once she's seven months along and sending you out into the snow at 3 AM for pickled eggs and Nutella." He shuddered.

Sylvie waved her hand loftily. "You had middle-of-the-night shopping trips, I had 72 hours of labouring to push two watermelons through a pinhole. We all had our burdens to bear."

Akio ran his fingers his raven's wing hair, pushing it out of his face. "I'm rather looking forward to late-night pregnancy cravings. They'll make me feel all hunter-gatherer," he said, jokingly pushing out his chest.

Finola wandered into the kitchen with Lorrigan and Bryan. She took in the scene and stopped, her eyes shooting to Elspeth.

"No!" she said, her face lighting.

Elspeth nodded excitedly. "Yes!"

"You aren't!"

"I am!"

Finola and Lorrigan whooped and rushed in to drag both Elspeth and a tolerantly patient Akio into a four-way bear hug.

Jordan leaned over to Alaric and whispered, "How does she do that?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. It's her thing."

"She's good. She's very good."

"You can imagine how much fun it was growing up under the all-seeing eye," he said dryly.

She winced. "Thank goodness for benevolently distracted professors," she rejoined, referring to her own loving, if scatterbrained, parents.

"I heard that!" Finola shot over her shoulder at them.

"Yes, she does that, too," Alaric said, responding to his wife's bemused expression.

The children began shooting around the kitchen, playing some game that seemingly consisted solely of screeching and chasing. The normally large kitchen was overfilled with the sounds of laughter, chatting, childish shrieks, and the occasional bark, as the dogs joined in the children's chase. Alaric looked apologetically at his small, shy wife. He took her hand and squeezed it, and she smiled and leaned toward him, saying, "It's alright. I rather like all of the energy. It's very festive."

"So, not regretting having married into such an overwhelming family, yet?"

Jordan's curls bounced as she laughed. "Not yet!"

*****************

Later that night, Jordan and Alaric trooped tiredly up to his room. It had been a long day, and they wanted nothing more than to bathe, crawl into bed, curl up, and pass out for the night. Alaric went down the hall to use another shower, while Jordan used the bathroom that joined his room to Blair's. They came into the room at the same moment, grinning at their synchronicity. Jordan peeled back the covers and stopped. Throwing back her head, she began to laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. Confused, Alaric looked at his bed. Covering his mattress were his old, faded Batman sheets which he hadn't seen since he was 15. He shook his head, embarrassed. "Tricksy hobbitses," he muttered, referencing his mother.

"Now we're even!" Finola called as she walked down the hall.

Jordan looked at him, wide-eyed. "How does she do that?!" she mouthed.

He shook his head, turned off the lamp, climbed into bed, and curled up behind her, tucking the covers around their bodies. She snuggled against his warm chest and tucked her soft bottom into the nest of his pelvis. He wrapped an arm around her waist, tucking his body as close to hers as he could. She sighed, basking in the quiet peace, lulled by his soft breath ghosting across the back of her neck. He spread his large, warm hand over her soft belly and pressed her even closer to him, stroking the smooth strip of skin that peeked between her flannel pyjama bottoms and his over-sized undergrad tee. She closed her eyes, breathing in his lovely clean smell. He slipped closer, nuzzling the back of her neck, comforted by the scent of her hair.

They slept.

****************

Jordan awoke in the milky light of dawn, to the sensation of her husband's fingertips slowly drawing circles against the exposed flesh of her creamy belly. She murmured nonsense, instinctively pushing her bottom closer to his warmth. She felt a rush of warmth on the back of her neck as Alaric growled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. She realized that she was no longer snuggled into the soft, springy nest of his crotch, but that her bottom was pressed against a the hard bar of his erection. She grinned, eyes still closed and shook her head, mumbling, "No, Alaric".

She could feel him placing small, soft, delicate, deliberate kisses on the back of her neck and she turned to hide her face in the pillow.

"Yes..." he rumbled, his voice sleep-roughed and wicked. His hand slowly moved to splay just under her breasts, softly stroking the silken skin.

"We are not having sex in your mother's house on your Batman sheets," she said, turning her face toward his, her eyes still closed.

Alaric said nothing, merely moved his mouth to place more delicate kisses along the edge of her mouth. The hand that had been under her neck moved down to slip itself under her, and wrap around her breasts, pulling her closer. His other hand moved in slow, comforting, hypnotic circles over her ribs and belly, lulling her back into relaxation. He moved his mouth to her ear and licked her earlobe, making her shiver.

She tried again. "I am not having sex with you--in your mother's house--with all of your siblings sleeping innocently in their beds." Jordan felt his mouth grin behind her ear.

"And what makes you think," he purred "that my siblings aren't doing the very same thing?" His breath was hot against her ear and it still smelled lightly of last night's Colgate.

She turtled, drawing her head into her chest and pulling the blankets over herself, in a silly attempt to fend off his advances. "You're a fiend!" she whispered loudly. "A sex fiend!"

Alaric grinned to himself and moved his hand to coaxingly stroke her hip, running his fingertips just under the waistband of her bottoms. He pulled her body even closer to his, feeling her squirm at the wiry strength of his arm. He knew that she loved feeling the iron in his grip. In fact, he could feel her, her bottom unconsciously tucking up, trying to let her rest her core on his aching shaft. He could feel her blooming against him, and he purred in appreciation. He nuzzled the back of her neck, opening his mouth to whisper teasingly against her skin, "Your sex fiend." He pushed his hips against her bottom, letting her unconsciously rub herself against his hungry erection. He could feel her nipples poking into his forearm, feel her pushing her chest against his arm, testing his strength.

She whined softly, then said. "I have to go help your mother cook for Thanksgiving..."

He lowered his voice and purred into her ear, "No one's awake, Princess...it's just you and me..." punctuating each thought with a slow, sucking kiss against her exposed shoulder.

"But they'll hear us..." He knew that he was winning. "Let me take care of that. Let me take care of you. Will you? Will you let me take care of you, baby?"

She gave a low, heartfelt moan and then nodded.

That was all that he needed.

Alaric slipped from behind her to crawl over Jordan's sleep-heavy body. He burrowed underneath the covers, using his mouth to nudge the tee higher up her soft belly. Under the covers, he was surrounded by the floral aroma of her soap and the warm, sweet scent of her burgeoning arousal. He placed slow, licking kisses against her sleep-warmed tummy, feeling her fingers lazily wending their way through his thick hair, alternating between tugging and pulling him closer. He gave an open-mouthed grin against her navel, dipping his tongue inside to tease the sensitive hollow, and was rewarded with a lazy lift of her hips and a low, purring sigh.

He wanted to go slowly, wanted to savour his wife, but the truth was, he didn't know how soon the household would waken, and he needed to feel her naked, pressing against him for as long as possible. So, he moved his mouth south, using his chin to nudge her bottoms out of his way as he lapped at the hot, sensitive hollow of her hipbone. Alaric heard her muffled whimper and imagined the way that her sharp white teeth sank into her plump pink bottom lip when she was trying to stifle her reactions. He grinned, slid his hands up her hips, hooking his fingers into her bottoms to slowly, inexorably pull them off of her.

Jordan lifted her hips to help him, and as the plaid flannel cleared her bottom, he paused, feeling his entire body grow as rigid as his erection. No panties. His wife had been sleeping next to him all night, soft bottom practically suction cupped to his crotch and she hadn't had on any panties. He could feel the tickle of her curls brushing against his lips as his cheek rested on her hipbone, and he had to move his head to stifle his heartfelt groan against her inner thigh. Alaric felt her squirming underneath him, trying to wriggle the rest of the way out of the bottoms, and he wrapped them around his hand, yanking them off in one violent tug that made her gasp and arch in sensuous surprise.