It was 5pm on New Year's Eve and Moira decided to take a nap. She'd promised to come to Harry's NYE party -at a nearby hotel- later that evening so she wanted to be well rested.

When she woke up, she had 38 missed calls and 104 messages.

And came to the discovery that she'd slept through New Year's Eve.

Not even the fireworks had woken her up. Boy, she must have been really tired.

Three of the missed calls were from her mom, six from an unknown number and the rest was all from Harry. Two messages sent by her mother, one by the same unknown number and the remaining 102 all from Harry.

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Her mom had sent. The second message, sent 30 minutes after the first, made Moira laugh loudly, the sound of it echoing through her bedroom.

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She knew her daughter too well.

The unknown number turned out to be Finn, Harraël's bandmate.

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And just like he said, Harraël was indeed panicking.

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All his other texts said the same thing in one way or another; urging her to pick up her phone or call him, getting angry at her lack of response, etc. A rush of shame ran through her as she read through them. Why couldn't she have set an alarm and gotten there on time?

His last text was sent half an hour ago. She checked the time on her phone which said it was 04:52am. Instantly dialling his phone number, she held the device to her ear, begging every supernatural force out there to let him pick up her call.

And in the blink of an eye, her prayer was answered.

"God damn it, woman. Don't you ever do that to me again! You had me worried sick! A few more minutes and I would've gone home to break down your door!" He scolded her, but how could anyone concentrate on his words when his voice sounded so scratchy and... sexy

She gasped as she caught herself thinking this and instantly deleted the thought from her mind.

No, bad brain!

"Are you okay, Moira?" He spoke somewhat softer now.

"I'm fine," she muttered, relieved his anger was short-lived. She didn't like people screaming at her, Harraël even less. His presence always made her feel big, bright and beautiful. But when he was raising his voice at her just then, she felt small, and she despised it. She wanted him cheery and cheeky and Harry-ish.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, I was asleep." She added.

A deep sigh was heard from the other side of the line, "Why does this not surprise me."

They talked some more and agreed to meet up the following day -or technically that same day-, he forgave her and all was well in the jungle.

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

On January 3rd -three days later- a very special introduction was taking place in the kitchen of Harraël penthouse.

"Bells, this is my friend Moira."

"Hello," Moira waved at the 5-year-old little girl, a soft smile gracing her face.

Bella, however, didn't say a word. She inspected the -to her- unfamiliar lady with a sceptic gaze. Her tiny hands placed on her hips and her legs spread apart, as if standing in the Superman pose. Perhaps she didn't even know who the famous hero was, but nevertheless, she looked adorable.

"Why is your tummy so massive?" She wondered aloud, her voice high pitched, and seeming to be having a hard time pronouncing the word 'massive'.

"Because there's a baby inside of me."

Bella narrowed her eyes. "Do you love your baby?"

"Yes, of course!" Moira exclaimed, grinning at the question.

"Then why did you eat it?"

Harraël burst out laughing, Moira herself also having a hard time keeping a straight face.

Bella -on the other hand- stared between the two adults with wide eyes, as if they'd both grown an extra head.

Wiping a tear from the corner of his eye, Harraël came down from his fit of laughter and clapped his hands abruptly. "Now that you mentioned eating, I'm hungry."

Soundlessly, the three of them moved over to Harraël's dinner table, where lunch was already served: pancakes with maple syrup. They dove into their food, Moira and Harry occasionally glancing at Bella in amusement as she murmured to herself and nodded or shook her head.

"Oh! Do you know what time it is?" Harraël said suddenly, looking down at the imaginary watch on his wrist. "Smoothie time!"

"Nooooo." Bella whined, slamming her little hands flat to the table.

Moira had no idea what they meant or what was going to happen. So she sat in her chair, completely clueless.

Fetching a glass of mucky-colored substance from the fridge, he placed it in front of his niece. Pointing at it, "Drink. It's healthy."

Bella folded her arms together and frantically shook her head, "No!"

"What is in there?" Moira pulled up her lips in disgust.

"About 12 types of fruits and vegetables," He said, innocently. "Why? You want some?"

"Think I'll pass."

"Suit yourself."

Harraël shot Bella a look that was supposed to be cute and cuddly and puppyish. Naturally, the grown man failed at doing so. But you can't blame him for trying.

"Please Bells?" He pouted. "For your favourite uncle?"

She giggled, though still shaking her head.

Rolling her eyes, Moira arose from her chair, grabbing the glass of unwanted smoothie in the process.

"Hey!" Harraël protested. "What are you going to do with that? She still has to drink it!"

"Just give me a second."

She put the glass on the kitchen counter and began rummaging through one of his cupboards. Finding what she was looking for, she tipped a pinch of harmless, pink coloring into the glass and grabbed a spoon from the cutlery drawer to help her blend in the color. Within no time, the mucky color had transformed into a vibrant pink one. As the finishing touches, she put a straw into the glass and threw some rainbow sprinkles on top.

"Ta-da!" She placed the transformed smoothie in front of Bella, who eyed it full of wonder.

With a dropped jaw, Harraël watched his niece gulp down the entire glass. Without any complaints.

He was stunned, speechless.

For the past three years, he'd tried to persuade Bella into drinking one of his healthy smoothies, every time he saw her. He had succeeded in doing so the first time, but after that, she'd refused to do so again. And like ever, Moira did not fail to surprise him by making Bells drink his creation as if it was nothing.

His eyes were glued to the woman he'd known for 4 months, and he was astonished. Any fool could see the adoration vibrating from him as he looked at her.

"You're going to be a wonderful mother." He stated matter-of-factly.

Succumbing under his piercing stare, Moira avoided eye-contact. Nonetheless, she felt her cheeks flushing.

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

That afternoon, they were watching Bella run around a playground with a bunch of other kids.

Harraël had insisted on sitting down after he'd caught Moira limping a little. She'd tried convincing him the pain wasn't too bad, when in reality her feet were aching like hell. Too proud and too stubborn to admit that he was right, she'd carried on walking. Eventually, he had to literally drag her to a bench and force her to sit down. She'd surrendered at this point.

Since the New Year's Eve fiasco, he'd become extra protective over her. Helping her at any given moment, persuading her to let him to certain things like grocery shopping, unloading the dishwasher or carrying heavy things. Or he'd push her to take a nap or sit down for a bit. He'd scold her whenever she ate anything less than healthy and constantly put on Classical music, claiming it was good for the baby's mental development.

At first she'd found his behaviour annoying, the hormones caused her to snap at anything these days, including Harry. But as two days passed, it started to grow on her. She found herself appreciating and even loving the way he treated her.

Was this what it was like to have a father figure in her child's life?

This thought kept popping up in her head, every time Harraël's protectiveness surfaced.

"I can't wait until he's out," Moira rubbed her bump, feeling Ollie enthusiastically kick against her hand.

"Getting tired of him?" His lips curled up in half a smirk.

"The complete opposite," She replied, her eyes automatically going back to Bella to see if she was still there. Which she was. "I can't wait to meet him!"

Harry put his much larger hand over hers, rubbing her belly along with her. Tenderly, he placed a kiss on her temple. It was only a small peck, but the sparks that erupted from the spot told her otherwise. Her stomach tingled with warmth. She smiled and leaned fully into him, resting her head on his shoulder and feeling his arms circle around her waist.

She felt content.

Moira's eyes once again glanced up to look at Bella, but she froze when she was gone. All that was left were the other kids, though no Bella.

"Shit," She muttered, looking around the playground. She wasn't there. "Shit," She loosened herself from Harry's arms and got off the bench, running a hand frantically through her hair.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where'd she go!?" Harry asked panicky, catching on.

"Bella!" She called loudly, hurrying towards the playground. While Harraël went in the opposite direction, rushing down the path with his long, lanky legs. She looked everywhere, in every nook and cranny, expecting to find the little girl giggling mischievously.

But she wasn't there.

She could feel panic swelling in her chest; anyone else would think she was overreacting, but if you were pregnant and had a whole army of hormones running through your body, you'd understand the pure and utter panic. She could feel her heart racing painfully in her chest when she saw Harraël hurry back to her, shaking his head to let her know he didn't find her.

She tore off in the middle of the small park, yelling her name again, only to find it completely empty of the little girl. "BELLA!" She shouted, cupping her hands over her mouth. She could scarcely breath now, her chest was welling in fright, and adrenaline was coursing through her veins as she hurried down another path.

Harraël had gone to check another path, only to come back empty handed.

Her first fear was that she had been taken, it wouldn't be the first time a child had been snatched from the streets of New York City. But it had never happened in this neighbourhood.

With a tight throat, she looked at another corner of the playground which was hidden by trees. And saw the head of brown curls bobbing as the little girl skittered down the gravel, her arms held out in front of her.

"Harry," Moira uttered, "she's out there." Her entire body washed over with great relief upon seeing her, glad to see she hadn't run off.

Harraël clenched his jaw and went towards her to grab her. She could tell he had been scared like her, probably even more scared than she was. Bella was his niece, after all.

His body seemed enraged. Bella's face looked panicked when he suddenly grabbed onto her wrist, practically dragging her back to where Moira stood watching in shock. She'd never seen him like this.

The little girl started crying, she -too- had never experienced him so angry. She looked terrified, but Harraël's face was eerily furious, his eyes dark and mouth clenched.

He grabbed her frail shoulders, forcing her to look at him as he crouched down.

"Bella," Harraël said lowly, "don't you ever run off like that again. Do you hear me?"

Moira wanted to open her mouth and say something, but instead he shook her shoulders gently yet hard enough to get her attention again. She was crying softer now, having to look him dead in the eye.

"I said," Harraël said quietly, "do you hear me? You can't run off like that, okay?" His voice was a bit gentle now, even though he sounded ultimately stern.

"I-I'm sorry, I wanted to go hug the trees." Bella whimpered, nervously on her other thumb, looking timid from Harraël's powerful gaze.

"Well next time you need to ask me." He replied firmly, letting out a quiet sigh. He straightened up, releasing her small hand.

"Can I go play now?" Bella asked quietly.

Harraël silently nodded, and Bella scampered back to the playground, eager to get away.

"I was so scared we'd never find her," Moira whispered, instinctively leaning into Harry.

"I know." His voice was quiet, agreeing with her. "I think I nearly had a heartattack." He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, lightly tugging at her so she turned to look at him.

Needing the comfort, she reached up slightly to wrap her arms around his torso, and his other hand wound around her shoulders to pull her closer. Her baby bump was in the way, but neither of them really minded. She could instantly feel herself melt into his embrace; she felt as though he cherished her, like he was so careful not to scare her or hurt her in any way.

Maybe we should go home," Moira suggested quietly when she pulled away, folding her arms. His green eyes peered into hers, remaining silent. "I'm sure we're all a little shaken up, I know I am." She chuckled humourlessly.

Harraël called for his niece, who appeared at their side in a instance, having learned her lesson. Bella clasped a tight hold onto Moira hand as they made their way home.

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