As of late, Jules Deville had been very busy. Much busier than she normally was, even with her career in the medical field. In fact, she had been neglecting much of her paperwork, focusing solely on healing her patients and on her own personal life goal. She had not yet addressed the idea that this goal was born completely out of stress and grief. It was not possible for Jules to make a bad decision. Any poor choice was immediately followed by a drastic one.

Up until now her decisions had been relatively harmless. They did not affect her life deeply -- it was more like adopting a new hobby, changing a hairstyle. For years her hair had been a unique shade of lavender. Her last Big Resolution had been to return to her natural shade of fiery red. And with that came the conviction that she was not the average ginger.

Finally this goal had come to fruition -- or at least she was a large step closer. She hadn’t exactly advertised what she was looking for. Only Flynn knew what she was trying to do. Jules wasn’t looking for approval from anyone, and felt assured about her plans. She put on a shirt that in a few months, she wouldn’t be able to wear anymore. She headed to Death & Co to visit Margs, who Jules had all but forgotten existed in her overconfident whirlwind.

Social graces were not Margo’s strong suit (that had never actually been debated, but she thought it could be… maybe… one day).  So, the day before Valentine’s Day she couldn’t help that she had sarcastically wished them luck on the eve of the worst night of the year, only to have them break down into tears over their drinks… How was it possible she’d found every single recently broken up with sod in Death & Co. only to make the same mistake…

Besides, showed real bad character on the part of whoever had just broken up with them.  Avoiding what?  The gifts and the lay?  Honestly.  They must have really wanted it to end to avoid that.  Apparently, pointing that out just made things worse. 

Jefferson very quietly reminded her, after the third encounter, that crazy was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting it to work. She’d only glared for about half of a second: he was probably right on the crazy bit.

With slumped shoulders, she approached the bar and ordered a firewhiskey, neat.  Nothing fancy – she only played with the fun shots and things when she was in a crowd . Play to the audience or whatever the case may be.  Right now, she just wanted a drink and Jesse obliged. 

Leaning her elbows on the table, she pointed at the bartender hand still on the glass like a disgruntled old drunk – apparently a natural state, considering she’d only taken the first sip of her first drink of the evening, “You know,” she started, “it was honestly a joke.  People are just being so damn touchy.”  Jesse’s eyebrows rose, “And not in the good way,” she grumbled before taking another sip. 

Things at Death & Co were running right on schedule. Someone was being insulted, probably as a result of drinking too much. It was early for such attitudes -- some people couldn’t handle their liquor. With Valentine’s day approaching, emotions were running extra high.

“You know,” she started, “it was honestly a joke.  People are just being so damn touchy.”  Jesse’s eyebrows rose, “And not in the good way.”

“So sensitive,” Jules agreed, rolling her eyes. Jules could always count on Margo to have the same impatience with the oversensitive human race. She smirked and picked up the glass of scotch that had been placed before her, no order necessary. Jules’ face was familiar enough to earn herself a ‘regular’ order. This time, however, she remembered her condition and put the glass down as nonchalantly as she could manage. Margo was sure to notice the bizarre behavior.

How to bring this up? Jules wasn’t sure what the protocol was for making such an announcement. She knew that Margo would find the news more alarming than Jules’ decision to skip out on alcohol. “What’s new, Margs?” was what she went with.

When the voice snuck up behind her, Margo sat up straight in her chair and glanced over, feeling relieved when she noticed it was Jules and no one else.  “Seriously,” she let out a puff of exasperated air.  Swivelling on the bar stool, she wasn’t necessarily surprised by the healer’s bright outfit but it wasn’t anything Margo would ever wear.

Colors in her life didn’t exist beyond black, white, and red.  Even then, white was a pretty dangerous color… what with bloodstains and all.  Blinking a couple of times, she adjusted to the colors and the new position on her chair while taking a drink.  “It’s a tragedy, really.” 

Jesse produced the scotch without a second thought – as all regular customers got ace treatment (so she liked to think), but Jules didn’t grab for it straight away.  That was odd.  Raising her eyebrows, Margo would have asked – but she was distracted by her question as though it was something shiny glinting in the light. 

What was new?  So many things. 

“It’s apparently lonely hearts club here tonight,” she rolled her eyes, “oversensitive sods who’ve just been broken up with.”  She probably said it too loud, since there was a howl of a cry from not too far away.  They must have heard her.  Fu-…  She shook her head and wet her lips, “Just glad I didn’t make a rule against drinking on the job,” she raised her glass and took a very hearty sip.  “Cheers, eh?” she nodded toward Jules’ drink – she couldn’t be drinking alone now!   

It had only been a few hours since Jules had taken the Test to confirm her future fate. Interestingly, it was not the first time she had taken the test -- it was just the first time that she had been hoping for a positive result. Hope -- it was a subject that Jules never truly addressed. She had quite often denied it; ever the realist, not the optimist.

“Cheers, eh?”

The plan had been to tell Margo about what was going on, but Jules had not accounted for the restrictions that would be placed on her. These constraints suddenly sent her plan off the rails; Jules discovered that she would not be able to do this casually. After all, it would not take long for Margo Amherst to realize that someone around her was deliberately not drinking.

Pushing her ‘regular’ away from her in a way that made it clear she didn’t plan on drinking it, Jules cleared her throat and made her first attempt at sharing her ‘special’ news. Unfortunately a little whiskey would have made this procedure much easier. Here goes nothing...

“Margs, I’m pregnant.” Jules said it flatly, in the aloof sort of way that she shared diagnoses with her patients. Not knowing what to do next, really, she signaled to Jesse. “Can I get a seltzer?” What else was there to drink at bars besides liquor?

 Margo’s eyes followed the glass being pushed away.  “That bad of a day?!” Margo raised her eyebrows and reached over.  “Well don’t let it go to waste,” she pulled it toward her.  She didn’t mind having a glass on the queue.  It was Jules’ choice: maybe she had to go to the hospital.  That would explain that.  Couldn’t be drunk on the job, after all! 

Probably a much bigger deal for healers than a bar owner, right? 

Smirking over the rim of her glass, she took a sip and turned her eyes at Jules when she said her name.  Of course, what came next was enough to make her lose the entire mouthful over the countertop.  Gasping after the sharp sting in her throat, Margo coughed and wiped her arm against her mouth – droplets of whiskey now streaking the sleeve of her leather jacket.

“What?” she blinked, “Aren’t you in charge of potions?  You know there’s something you could take for that…” as far as Margo’s imagination could take her, this was obviously an accident of epic proportions that shouldn’t have even been allowed to get this far!  There were so many ways to make sure this wasn’t a possibility. 

How could someone in the healthcare field be so careless?!  “What are you going to do?” 

Margo’s reaction was almost exactly what Jules had expected, so that at least was going according to plan. The spasm that ended with whiskey flying in the direction of Jules’ face. Jules calmly avoided the stream as she had many times with vomit. She raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips.

“Of course there are potions,” Jules said shortly, as if Margo’s suggestion had been an insult to her intelligence. “You use them if you don’t plan to get pregnant.” This was going to be the only explanation she would give about why she chose not to take birth control potions. Actually, she had been taking them for so long, she was surprised that she was able to conceive so quickly. She’d have thought that her body would’ve adapted to her usual regime of random sex with no resulting babies.

What Margo did not know was that Jules had spent a week straight going out and sleeping with different men just to acquire this status. When Jules wanted something, she actively sought it. After a heavy pause, Jules clarified. “It was planned.”

"What are you going to do?"

"Raise it, obviously." Jules was a little defensive here. She assumed that everyone would be under the impression that she was ill-equipped to be a mother figure. To anyone. Especially her own child. But that was (mostly) Jules' own worries that she would not admit to. Instead, she looked for it in other people.

  “If you don’t plan on…?” Margo dropped off somewhere along there and lost all understanding of the situation.  Jules had planned this?!  She confirmed she planned this?!  Margo couldn’t imagine that.  She couldn’t imagine waking up one day and deciding that this was the plan.

Sure, there had been scares before, but everything resolved before she had to even think about it.  Margo wasn’t the sort to mess about with the important things.  And at the very least, she knew the course of action she would take: none of this nonsense.  Raising it? 

Margo couldn’t imagine!  She didn’t know how her mother raised her and her sibilings… and all the things that could go wrong?  You only had to look at her cousin Lia or Kurby’s sister Dervla to know parenting could go so wrong and you could end up with a psychopath on your hands.

Not a parent’s fault if their kid turned out to actually be the spawn of a harpy, right?  So it wasn’t as obvious to Margo as to why raise it would be the first option on Jules’ mind.  She paused and nodded, “Well.”  Another pause, “Congrats, then!” it was weak, but she didn’t know what to say.  Wasn’t exactly something Margo would want to be congratulated over! 

“Is the Mr. excited?” she asked in a roundabout way, since Margo hadn’t even been aware there was a man she’d want to have a baby with in the picture.  Margo wasn’t sure those sorts – the people you wanted to procreate with – actually existed – but obviously, Jules had (somehow convinced herself that she) found one. 

Margo’s reaction was not angry, so that was a little weight off of her shoulders. She watched Margo’s face as it went through several stages of confusion. Jules had to agree that she had never before seemed like the motherly type. She was the furthest thing from it, really. She was ice cold, spiky and harsh. But it would be her baby.

Jules smiled when Margo congratulated her. “Thanks, Margs.” The snobbish Jules Deville, accomplished and respected healer, head of her department, had never needed any ‘support.’ She worked hard all on her own, and it showed. But somehow, her friends’ approval felt like the support she felt like she needed.

“Is the Mr. excited?”

“Oh, he was only there for the fun part.” Jules had no intention of informing any of the five men she’d slept with that week that she was pregnant, and that they had a 20% chance of being this fetus’ dad. “I don’t work well with others.” It was the critique that followed her through childhood, Hogwarts, and her entire healing profession. It was a core part of Jules’ personality.

“This baby is mine.” Jules softened a little as she said it, and she felt a bit like she was glowing, even if no one else could tell. She put her hand on her stomach. At the moment she still had her va-va-voom hips and perked up bazoongas. Silly as the word was, it did aptly describe Jules’ large breasts.  But still Jules felt like there was something there. She knew something was there.

Margo didn’t know if she should be thanked at all.  Her views on this were completely different from Jules.  Jules actually seemed happy – she insisted that she wanted this.  Maybe it was like baby Stockholm syndrome.  At first it was terrifying and took over your entire life, but then a person got used to it and they started to think they actually wanted this. 

She would have suggested it, but she figured she might have gotten her head chopped off if she did.  Stockholm Syndrome had a tight grip, took a lot of therapy to get out of that.  It was weird she knew enough about it to make the connection. 

Besides there were bigger fish to fry: only there for the fun part?  Margo laughed, because how could she not?  That was hilarious.  But also, she was going to do this alone?!  That was horrifying. 

So was the hand stomach thing, that was extra horrifying. 

Margo imagined in like… months it would be moving and round and… oh God.  Margo was petrified of the whole thing.  It was like swallowing a creature that didn’t die and then exploded out… Jules had to know that, she was a healer right?  She had to know.  Even Margo knew.  Maybe that’s why she was so freaked out and Jules wasn’t at all.  That warranted another drink. 

Grabbing the scotch that has been discarded by Jules, Margo drank half of it in one go and hissed with the burn down her throat.  Letting out a very large, scotch-scented breath, Margo once again turned her attention to Jules.  “So… uh…” she pursed her lips, wrapping her hands around the glass like it was a warm glass of cocoa, rather than a half drained glass of whiskey, "have you thought of names... or anything like that?" Margo did not know what one did when they found out they were having a baby, so she just grasped for anything that seemed like it would.  Names seemed legit, right?  Another large sip down the hatch at that thought.

Jules watched Margo process the information with a bemused smile. Margo was the first person that Jules had shared this news with, that the baby was officially happening. It was about time for Jules to have a major life change, after all. Her promotion was now almost three years old and she had nothing else to do. And she wanted this, of course.

Margo looked horrified by the whole thing, and Jules couldn’t be surprised by that. It would have been completely unlike the whiskey-slinging dragon-tamer to have gushed over the news and begged for every detail. That was why she liked Amherst- she was genuine.

When she was asked about names Jules found herself laughing. “Hadn’t even thought that far,” she admitted. “I probably could have planned this better. I do have some time.” Nine months, the books said. It seemed like a lot of time, plenty for Jules to pick out a name. “Why, do you think I should name it after you?”

“Oh good,” Margo breathed with relief when Jules admitted she hadn’t thought that far yet.  That meant it couldn’t be too planned.  She was still imaging that this was Jules trying to convince herself she wanted this and it had been a total accident.  It would make Margo feel better about it, anyway.  She wouldn’t say it out loud, but it would absolutely help her give some context to this otherwise seemingly random event.

Why would someone who was so successful want this?  Wasn’t life fantastic without it?  Hell, Margo could barely keep track of her cat- as evidenced by the kittens in her neighbor’s flat.  Needless to say, Lizard was fixed now.   Should have been from the beginning, she supposed, but there needn’t be anymore little Lizards wandering around the world.  She really wondered if there were more of them, you know, from before… but she supposed that didn’t matter.

Turning her head to look at Jules again, she laughed loudly as she suggested she name it after her.  “All children should be named after me,” she finally managed to say out loud between gasps for air.  Margo… Marco… Margaret… Martin… whatever version!  She could imagine a whole world populated by people who were named after her.  Obvious choice.

“I can name a drink after it,” she countered when she finally got it together, though still breathing too heavily.  There was a beat and Margo looked up in thought before returning her eyes to Jules, “Is that wrong?”