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Favours repayed.

Though having only visited in the carriage previously, Riife did not take long to find the residence of Naita, or rather, of the mother of Naita's child, where his friend happened to be staying.
He was not sure whether it was fitting to knock on the door, it being so early. In addition to this confusion came the fact that it may seem a tad odd to approach a stranger, hand them an infant and say "please give this to Naita," as he feared he would, should any other resident open the door.
He had helped her move in, surely he could find the window to Naita's room, and thus gain her attention?

Though the fear of looking like some ardent schoolboy on the trail of his illicit love weighed heavy on the outwardly prim and proper man, the knowledge that this would amuse Nai, and thus gain some favour to his necessary task was helpful.

The search was no mean task, and tested Riife's patience sorely until he was convinced he ahd found the appropriate pane. But the work was not through yet. With an audible sigh, he transferred the ever-staring girl to weaker arm, grabbing a few pebbles in the other and launching them, one by one, at the window above.

At length, a bedraggled figure made her way to the window, black hair matted against her head, eyes half-closed, and, he suspected, a spot of drool marking her chin. Her very slightly swollen belly was partially exposed, the mask tattoo on it peeking beneath her shirt.
This frightful sight threw open the pane, and, glaring down, rasped "waddyawantit'searly."

It took rather a lot of will power not to burst into laughter at Naita's usual morning state, but, with barely a grin, Riife simply answered "let me in, I need to cash in a favour."
He hoped, rather than believed, it to be his imagination that his old friend swore under her breath at this request. On any account, her only audible response was to make his way to the door.

A short time later, the same sight greeted his eyes at closer range, and confirmed his suspicion about the drool spot.
"Favour?" Naita asked, eyes immediately making their way to the bundle in Riife's arms, pausing rather a long while on the black eyes that seemed to be surveying her critically. Trust Breena to make a first impression denoting her faith that the other was not up to scratch.

"Uh... babysitting?"
"For how long?"
Oh dear, here came the kicker.
"Uh... yes."

Naita's eyes bulged slightly, and this state only proved to increase as Riife explained the state of their beloved Siri household. As he drew to the finale of his speech, his fingers crossed in blind hope beneath Breena's blanketed form.

"Wait, you want me to take in a kid that set Elsa on FIRE? Until Lady Siri comes back? Oh hell Riife, I've just moved in, and... kids!"
This was the response for around ten minutes of pleading, threatening, and cajoling. At last, Naita caved, and before she could change her mind, Riife thrust the babe into her arms and stepped back.

"I'll bring her things later, for now I'll let you... get acquainted," he stated, before turning tail and almost running.
"Thanks!"

Watching the butler dash off through narrowed eyes, Naita eyed the rather... pale child, shut the door, and swore swiftly and quietly.

Cross-posted.

Fish sticks, part two.

Whistling happily, Naita eyed the scene on the stove before her.
There lay upon the lit element a frying pan, oil lining it's bottom, sizzling in the heat. On top of this oil lay the remains of her little fishy 'friend.' It had been gutted, had it's head and the tips of it's tails cut off, but it remained the unfortunate soul that had happened upon the woman's naked bosom. And stuck.

Giggling at the thought of her exacted revenge, Nai flipped the morsel, one side having achieved that golden brown which only ever graces one side of whatever one chooses to cook.
As the other began the process of what would be it's eventual complete lack of golden brown perfection, the chirpy cook ground salt and pepper into the glistening portion of seafood gleaming up at her.

"You bite me, I bite you, it's only fair," she rationalised to the long dead, and fast burning meal, before swearing aloud as smoke began to rise from the pan.

"Oh, you're a tricky one," she voiced, before turning off the element, placing the fish upon a plate, and seating herself at table.
"But not tricky enough."

Comments to the poor morsel over, Naita tucked in, attempting to ignore the slight... industrial taste to her meal. What harm could a little fish do?

Birth. (aka, DS gonna' hurt too.)

It was about time things calmed down, DS mused. This really was the life she had been missing. She was curled up on the couch with a half-knitted scarf, music playing softly in the background, the kids already in bed, no unsettling invitations or suspicious characters around... with the exception of the one upstairs, but she really wasn't all that suspicious anymore. In fact, thinking about that last unsolved mystery of the house didn't cause her the discomfort it used to. Maybe she was finally getting used to her life.

Laying on her own bed after a two-hour attempt to coax Meer to sleep, Naita groaned. Her back was still sore, had been all day.
Poking the huge girth of her belly, she frowned.

"S'your fault," she uttered to her swollen torso. "If you weren't so damn big, I'd be fine."

A crack in the ceiling took her notice for a moment, before a twinge was truly too much, and she began the process of getting up. It seemed a lot more arduous nowadays, having to slide round until her legs were hanging over the edge, then grab anything sturdy and pull herself up. Booze and laboratories, never again.

So swearing, she tottered out of the room, down the hallway, and started down the stairs. Perhaps some food would cheer her up.

The clomping was audible even from the living room. Focused intently on her knitting, she spoke without looking up. "There're blueberry muffins on the counter if you want them. Anything more involved, you'll have to wait until I finish this row."

See, they did have an understanding. One based on complete lack of comprehension and in many cases communication, not to mention a lack of alcohol in the house, but an understanding nonetheless.

Calling out her thanks, Naita headed for the kitchen, and those muffins!

She had seated herself at the table and devoured half a muffin before another twinge rang out across her body, fully noticeable. Swearing loudly, she dropped the muffin and grabbed her lower back.

A suspicion ran across her mind, those grey eyes widened, and one appeared slightly to twitch.

"Find them okay?" Satisfied with her work, DS set the half-scarf aside and stretched lazily. Of course she would, they were right there- but the sounds coming from the kitchen didn't indicate a happy person eating muffins. Or even an unhappy person eating muffins, since no one could swear that much with their mouth full. Frowning, she hurried into the kitchen.

Oh. No, that didn't appear to be a muffin-eater.

"A-are you okay? Can I get anything?"

Still twitching, Naita turned her gaze on the other woman, fear for once filling those eyes.
"I... think the thing's coming," she said hoarsely, unable even to grab the muffin and nibble on it for mental support.

Why, oh why had she not booked something painless to get it out of her?

Oh, was that all?

"... now? Are you sure?" Even though she knew it was coming, DS realized that she had never really planned for the arrival of the baby. Just dealing with the mother had been taxing enough.

"I'll, uh... call... the hospital?" Each word was fragmented, a separate thought that she tried desperately to make sense of. No move was made towards the phone.

Any more sure and Naita would be a sobbing mess on the floor. Neglecting to say this, however, she meekly nodded, nodding again as Divvy mentioned calling medical help.

"D-d'you know if it hurts?"

Were her next words. For once in her life, Naita was truly petrified.

She knew. But she wasn't too far gone to actually say so. Finally grabbing the clear plastic phone off the wall, she shook her head and punched in the numbers. "Everything is okay, don't worry about it."

Ring, ring... when would they pick up? When a voice answered on the other end, she heaved a sigh of relief. That was followed by heavy breathing, but no words came out.

After a moment or two of that, she turned back to Naita. "Uh... what do I say exactly?"

Mouth dropping open, Naita stared wordlessly at the woman holding the phone for a moment, before she realised she, too, had no clue.

"Uh... help?" she attempted, but it didn't sound quite the type of thing you said down a phone, especially not to a hospital.

That didn't occur to DS, whose brain was only working in short bursts. "Yes, help! We need help please!"

The woman on the other end sighed. Another case of hysteria. "Ma'am, I want you to take a deep breath and tell me who needs help, and why."

Skipping the breathing may not have been the best idea, but the words tumbled out of her mouth like unruly acrobats. "She's in labor, I think, and I don't know what to do... I don't even know her very well yet!"

"Just calm down. Can you drive her here?"

Gulping, DS shook her head, not realizing that the gesture wouldn't be heard over the phone.

Listening to this hysterical phonecall, Naita let her head fall into her hands, then onto the table, narrowly missing an adandoned muffin, which, all things considered, may well have been very grateful for this turn of events.

Then, as a thought arose, she turned her head to one side, and through a gap in her hands, called out;

"I want the drugs!"

On the other end of the phone, the woman winced. Two cases of hysteria. "Calm down ma'am. Can you tell me where you are?"

Voice trembling, DS managed to get her address out before the incoherency took over again. "Are you coming? Are you bringing drugs? She's going to be mad if you don't, and if she's mad she'll throw muffins!"

"I'm going to send an ambulance over. It should be there in ten minutes or so, so get ready. Okay?" Why hadn't she listened to her mother and been an accountant?

Thoughts returning finally to the muffin at these words, Naita gave a noiseless, and unseen nod. Another shock of pain was filtering from her lower back, spreading like electricity. The choice between whimpering and swearing loudly seemed obvious- she went with the latter.

"Yes! Come now, come already!" DS slammed the phone back on its hook, cracking the case.

Taking another moment to collect herself, she cast a sideways glance at Nai. "Guess this'll show you that booze isn't so good for you."

Head snapping up at this comment, Naita narrowed her eyes at Divvy.
"Look who's talking," she quipped, before allowing her head to fall once more into her arms.

It took two to tango.

"I learned my lesson. Did you?"

Before waiting for an answer, she hurried out of the room, her voice still carrying into the kitchen. "We'll need some things... a blanket for you, possibly a hot water bottle... anything else you can think of?"

It was quite probably a good thing Divvy had left the room, for a rather rude hand gesture was Naita's only reply to whether she had 'learned her lesson.'

"DRUGS!" was her only answer to the other question. If she had to push this thing out, she wasn't doing it sober!

She knew she would pay for her comments later, but a smile flitted to her face for the first time since she'd dropped the knitting. Speaking of which... she stuffed the yarn and needles into a bag, along with a blanket and two bottles of aspirin. "You're going to have to wait until they get here for that!" she shouted back, though her yells were barely audible over the sudden sirens that flooded everyone's eardrums.

Wow. These people were pretty fast. It was hard not to just stand there and be impressed, so that was exactly what DS did.

Catching the sounds of sirens, Naita quickly breathed a word of thanks to everyone, and anyone, that could be bringing her drugs, and giving her back the ability to get up.

Glorious, glorious freedom! ... and drugs.

Madam, have you been drinking?

Town hall. A building of marble, wooden floors, a lot of hair gel, and... a snoring woman cradling a baby with a fin along her spine and two fish-like tails?
Naita, up since dawn, drinking since a minute past dawn, and holed up in a seat in the hallway for roughly an hour, was for once in her life, early for an appointment.

Her daughter was attired in a band of ill-strewn nappies, the ability to work around those tails still eluding the woman, a green jumper, and a pair of booties that seemed to climb halfway up her shins. Luckily, the newborn was fast asleep, a thing band of slobber connecting her slightly parted lips.

At last, the door opposite her opened, the sound of his heels clicking on the floorboards springing the woman's eyes open. The sight of him proved a test, for to see a nose so large on a face so long was almost too much for Naita's abundant humour. Instead, she hiccoughed, swayingly rising from her seat and grasping his hand, not so much out of greeting, but to steady herself.
His impression of her was apparent as he looked down the enormous slope of his nasal cavity and exclaimed;
"Madam, have you been drinking?"

The answer was breathed with a mixture of various alcohol fumes. Although she mumbled "just a little," the answer was blatantly the reverse. Still, it was not his business to quibble, and though disapproving, he led the woman, who appeared to wear nothing on her bottom half, and carried a newborn attired likewise, to a seat.
"Birth certificate, I believe, ma'am?"

Though a little slow to react, she responded in the affirmative, eyes raking over the office, much more bare than she had expected. On one side of the room, a bookcase filled with publications her eyes were too fuzzy to read the spines of. Before her, a wooden desk, stock standard, the man whose nose defied science sat behind it, behind him a large window, and on the other wall, two potplants and a couple of pictures. Riveting.
Still, when a piece of paper was pushed before her, she attempted the arduous process of focusing on it.

"So, madam, what sex is your child?"
Here she thought a moment.
"Girl."
"And your name is?"
"Naita."
"Full name?"
"Naita."
"No, your last name?"
"Naita."
The man fixed her in his gaze. Just how drunk was she?
"Your name is Naita Naita?"
This proved too much, the woman spilled over with laughter, almost bent double, but for the infant in her arms.
"My name'sh Naita. Nothing else."
Oh goodie, the man thought to himself.
"And the father is?"
"DIVVY!"
... "And does this "Divvy" have a full name?"
"Divine Satourne. Shaturne? Something like that."
Something told the official the faster this was over, the better.

Filling out the parental information warily, he then, with a sigh, moved on to the child's.
"And your daughter's name is?"
Here Naita was stumped. Just what was the munchkin called? Wait... wait... she liked short names, easy to remember.
"Bob."
"Bob?!"
"Bob."
The official ceased for a moment, before gripping the bridge of his nose between to fingers, exhaling, and writing down those three letters. God help him.

"Middle name?"
Now here was a problem. In true Naita fashion, the answer seemed as if it should lie in alcohol, so she removed a tiny bottle of liquor from her breast pocket. Handy!
It took some concentration to clarify the letters, but eventually they came clear and she exclaimed;
"Bailey!"

Bob Bailey Satourne. Original, if nothing else.