Near Toronto, 2001

Natalie lay in bed, too tired to open her eyes but knowing she should. Early mornings were the only time she had to herself any more - before anyone woke up and started asking for juice, or coffee, or cartoons. She treasured her little bit of solitude, even if it was sometimes marred by morning sickness these days.

She swung her feet off the bed, into her slippers, and wrapped a robe around herself as she stumbled gracelessly
downstairs towards the kitchen. She slammed her toe on the piano as she went through the living room. Ouch.
They really needed to move the piano to the corner of the room, and acoustics be damned.

Sidney mewled softly at her from his perch on top of the kitchen counter. She'd better feed him before she went in search of saltines and started the coffee. "Good morning to you, too." Sidney loved the mornings as much
as she did. It was the only time that he got her undivided affection without a small hand pulling at his fur or trying to dress him up. Natalie kissed him on the top of his head as he purred at her touch. "What a good boy you are."

Sidney fed, coffee started, and apple juice and saltines in hand, she sat at the kitchen table and let her face bask in the sun streaming through the sliding glass door. She was so happy that it frightened her sometimes. Since she had found The Cure six years ago - they always spoke about it as if it had capital letters - her life had changed radically. Married, one-point-five kids, working days, and a big house in the suburbs near Toronto. She had never really wanted the suburban lifestyle, but it suited her. It suited all of them.

The day shift was a whole new ball game for Natalie, and she loved it. She'd become much more visible since she
stopped being a night owl, and had discovered a talent for office politics that she'd never dreamed she had. She had been promoted twice in the last four years. The last promotion had brought an extremely healthy salary
increase, too. Not that they needed the money - years of accumulated vampire wealth made her salary insignificant - but it did her professional ego good.

She had briefly considered quitting her job when she had found out that munchkin number two was on the way, but they haddecided to hire some extra household help instead. There was certainly something to be said for unlimited financial resources!

"Mommy?"

Natalie put her juice down and turned, smiling, as a curly- headed four-year-old in Snoopy pajamas came into the
kitchen. "Good morning, sweetie. You're up early." She enveloped him in a big hug, as always marveling at how
beautiful he was.

He wormed his way onto what was left of her lap - and he only had a few more weeks of that - and snuggled against her. "I tried to wake Daddy up, too." His little face was squished against her front, and his voice was muffled.

"Bet you didn't have much luck, hmm?"

"He's grumpy." He sounded so bewildered that Natalie had to smile, and she stroked the curls with extra gentleness.

"Daddy doesn't like mornings as much as we do, Richie. We just have to be nice to him."

"And bring him coffee."

"And bring him lots of coffee," agreed Natalie. Richie, having cuddled quite long enough for a four-year-old,
scrambled off her lap. "Are you hungry?" He shook his head emphatically. "You go put some socks on, and I'll make you French toast."

He turned and ran upstairs, narrowly missing trampling Sidney, and Natalie heaved herself out of the chair. So
much for her morning alone, she thought as she opened the fridge and scanned for eggs. She'd have to add frozen
French toast to the shopping list - who had time to cook from scratch?

The phone rang, startling her. There was only one person it could be at this hour - even her mother was still asleep. "Hello there."

"Hello, Natalie." Their relationship was finally ironed out; they'd never be close but at least they weren't so awkward with one another any more. The Cure had not been quite what either of them had expected. "Is he up yet?"

"No..." Gentle arms slipped around her waist, and made her smile. "Correction. Hold on a minute." She turned and, standing on her tiptoes, kissed her husband good morning. "It's Nick."

"Good morning, Nicholas." LaCroix put one hand over the telephone mouthpiece. "Is there any coffee made?"

End

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