P.S Would like to thank Lingy and Amethyst-Heart for editing this story!

Dedication: To to-be-fathers

Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor moon. Also, while I am sure that I am not the first to grace this idea (I am not that special at all), I do own the plot structure of this story.

And on the Seventh Day...

"And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made." Gen.
2:2

Oh my God.

Somebody was going to pay for this.

Chiba Mamoru, or rather, King Endymion of Crystal Tokyo, the most prodigious and most powerful man in all the Universe (and not a bad chess player), ran both hands rigidly through thoroughly mussed hair, not bothering to take note that it had been, probably, the fifty third time in the past four hours that he had done it. And in the twenty hours that he had been living in that hospital-donated by charity-he had obstinately stood, staring at the outer door of a hospital room. Standing because his body restlessly would not stay sitting. Hospital room because his wife was on the other side.

Occasionally the decibels of said wife would sing through the silent hallways. But recently recently there was nothing but the hated quiet that hospitals always seemed to bestow.

What the hell was going on in there?

He glanced at his fingernails, only in thought and unaware that he was scrutinizing them. His wife had insisted long before this that she give birth to their baby in a real hospital instead of the palace. A sense of normalcy, she said. To know that all things weren't really that different. And yet, although the hospital should seem familiar to him (as he had majored in medicine during his college years), present circumstances, he scowled, were morphing past experiences into a whole new understanding. But then, he had never been in a situation quite like this one before. Knowing that it would eventually come, he never really expected it to be quite... Like. This. Before.

His hands reached for his hair again.

Count: Fifty-four.

When had this begun? He had barely kept track of the time, he told himself, but his eyes betrayed him and shot to the hanging clock.

Brows furrowed at the unusually ridiculous looking clock ahead of him-had he not noticed until now how much the clock, which happened to be shaped as a cat, looked like Luna?

...Until he shook it off moments later to focus on the hands within.

Hour hand at eleven. Minute hand holding stubbornly at fifty-nine minutes.

On the morning of June 30th. Twenty five hours after the pain had begun. And twenty hours, his wife had grounded at him, clearly unimpressed, after he had deigned to lift himself out of bed long enough to consider getting her here.

In the newly donated hospital.

Somebody was going to pay for this.

June 29th, 1:15 A.M, twenty-two hours and forty-five minutes to present

A streak of light shone into the room as the door silently gave, silhouetting a tall, masculine figure in its light. Their bedchamber was dark and quiet except for the soft sound of breathing respiring from the lump snuggled under the wash of blankets. His heart did a double jump in his chest. For a matter of moments, he stood there watching the form, her chest moving up and down with each breath. His heart always seemed to be doing acrobatic tricks whenever he looked at her, even after all their years together, and many weren't blind to noticed his eyes glinting their same wicked glint whenever she walked into the room.

As of lately, though, his heart seemed to be putting more effort into throat jumping. And his eyes became more intense at the sight of her. Large blue eyes, as innocent now as they had been when theirs clashed for the first time, glowed out from the heart shaped face adorning them. Pink, petite, and shaped as a cupid's bow, her lips naturally curved into a cheerful smile that, he reminisced, only took a second to curl into a mischievous one. But when she moved He sighed. She had her silver hair cascading down her back, more graceful than it's owner as it fell in curls and swung from side to side as she walked. She waddled now, he grinned, and somehow his heart grew warmer each time she waddled by, across, to and from.

God, he didn't think he could possibly love her any more than he did in those moments.

But then, she would turn and look at him, and prove him wrong once more.

His hands lifted to the buttons of his shirt, but not before fingering the object in his pocket. Vigilantly, he enfolded it securely in his hand previous to positioning it in his drawer for hiding (things change, but one thing that never would was Serenity's scavenger hunt for any presents hiding in any nook, cranny, or corner).

Silver gold rimmed along the perimeter of the gift in triple ranks, while golden sparkles split off the shape of it. It was a locket shaped as a star. He made one for her each year for this particular event, and gave it to her the following Sabbath. But this year it was different. This year the there were three sapphire circling the interior instead of two. This year would represent a whole new destination in their lives.

It had been said that during their first years of marriage, the king had presented Chiba Usagi with her first golden locket on a Sunday, and had never missed the last June Sunday since.

Stripped from head to toe, he crawled underneath the coverlet. The coolness of the covers slid over him while he fitted his body to the one next to him. His hand settled on her hip and clutched the fabric of her nightgown. He smiled. Since the beginning, she had preferred the cotton nightie to his choice of sleepwear, and still blushed after the nights he managed to slip it off.

Which was often.

Him, he preferred to be as close to her as he possibly could be.

Nuzzling her neck, inhaling her scent, he felt his hands give in to temptation as they slid up over toned calves, delicate knees, up her thighs and to the fullness of her stomach.

And felt it kick.

His heart clutched. His stomach clenched. His eyes lit, despite the exhaustion settling in. Wonderment filled him at the thought of the child they created, laying there, waiting to arrive-in a matter a total of one day he KNEW. And grinned. He'd seen this child before, loved her like a father many years before. But this time it was different. This time, it would be his baby. And she would be theirs.

Blonde and dainty, he watched her brow crease and her cupid's bow lips part to murmur a soft "Mamo-chan ?" before moving, legs shifting relentlessly before connecting with his, and then settling back to sleep.

"Usako."

It would be June 30th in twenty-three hours. Neo-Queen Serenity's birthday and probably one of the two most blessed days of his life.

So he thought.

June 29th, 2:30 A.M, twenty-one and a half hours before present

The bed rustled. His eyes opened lazily, automatically ready for danger. A jumble of gibberish mumbled from his mouth before he moved to pull his wife closer. She'd turned on her side, and a frown marred her features. He drifted off before the thought processed.

June 29th, 3:05 A.M, twenty hours and fifty-five minutes before present

Endymion shifted in his bed in the ways that the stirring body of the night only could without disturbing the sanctity of sleep. A huff snorted from his nose. Absently he wiggled it, his arm instinctively reaching back for the form that always, and securely, slumbered beside him.

His hand reached nothing but sheets. Warm sheets heated recently from body heat, but sheets nevertheless. His shoulders stilled, his self suddenly at a loss. Sleep cleared from the heavy dredges of his mind as he labored to open his eyes and find the missing link. His voice, leaden with fatigue, yawned out a "Usako?" and consented to finish the yawn during the process.

A sprite voice replied, "Mamo-chan?"

His Usako had once said that his eyes reminded her of the ocean weather (especially, she once added post fight, when he grew angry and the storm was in their color), and at this moment she might say that those eyes cleared like the fog over still water as they watched her sitting up, perky if not a little happy.

She had gone to bed a good five hours before his own work allowed him to, but still, if he knew his Usako-and he did-he didn't think that she ever, in all the lives she'd lived, voluntarily got up before noon.

Carefully, he shifted his weight and let his back lean against the headboard. "Is something wrong, Usako?"

Her smile still blossomed. "Of course not, Mamo-chan." She reached out and brushed a lock of his hair from his eyes. "I was just wondering if you could get me a glass of warm milk."

Her tone was sweet as sugar, and should have been the first to put him off (in case the barbaric waking ritual didn't). But he loved her. And the one thing he loved about her was her unyielding ability to see happiness in everything. So he nodded, leaned forward to brush his lips against hers, slid out of bed to do as she asked, and chalked it up to a "Hey! Must be a pregnancy thing!" Because what else could possibly get Neo-Queen Serenity up so early?

What else, indeed.

June 29th, 3:20 A.M, twenty hours and forty minutes to present

Endymion laid his head back against the pillow, waiting for Serenity to finish her milk. It would be Saturday tomorrow, and then Sunday, he told his sleep-suffering body. Sunday was usually the day of rest throughout the kingdom, and God knew he and Serenity needed it. Not that he minded the extra work it took to set up for the baby on top of the work required for ruling 200 some countries and monitoring nine planets, but he couldn't help but be really, really glad for Sundays.

The fact, however, was that Sunday would be June 30th: The day of Usako's birthday, and, equally as important, the day his little girl would be born.

He was prepared. Every hour for that day, he was prepared to be at Usa's beck and call. Ready for whatever happened. And better yet, he had the advantage. No matter how long it took, he knew that Chibi-Usa would arrive on that day. Oh yeah. He was ready.

And so, Saturday would be his day to rest.

This was his last thought before he glided off to the land of dreams.

June 29th, 3:35 A.M, twenty-hours and twenty-five minutes to present

Something poked at him. It wasn't sharp, just pointy. Rounded at the tip and nudging him from the welcoming darkness. His lips curved downward and he muttered something incoherent. Why the devil was anything poking at him when it was obvious he was in the drifts of sleep?

Apparently whatever it was that was poking at him didn't get the message. Although inane muttering was a very popular pastime for the sleep disturbed, sometimes outer forces needed a bit more of a sign.
He didn't have his golden crystal ready, and he was quite sure his wife wouldn't appreciate him asking her to use the silver one, so he resorted to the widely held fly-swatter trick-fluent, expressive and most certainly efficient if used correctly.

Swat once.

Swat twice.

Wait.

If nothing but settled silence answered to the swat, no further work was required, mission accomplished.

However, if a large swwwaaaaackkkk followed, obviously the sway was all for not and one had to willingly open one's eyes in order to glare into the unamused eyes of one's wife.

"Mamo-chan." Her tone rang deadpan.

"Yes, Usako?" What day was it? He scanned his thoughts. Twenty-eighth? No, no. Twenty-ninth. That's right. His eyes watched hers.

His features crinkled, concerned, all the while wondering what could be the problem when Serenity had rejected sleep twice in one night.

"What is it? Headache? Are you feeling alright?" It was only June 29th, right?

Her smile blossomed again. "Why would you think that, Mamo-chan."

She pouted, but her eyes seemed a bit too direct on his face. "I'm out of milk."

"You're you're out of milk?"

"Yes. See?" She wiggled the glass in front of him, her eyes searching his as if to say, "And I just don't know where the gosh darn it went!"

But his sleep deficient brain was heavily fogged. "So I see " As much as one could see at times like this.

Seconds flew by. Maybe minutes. What seemed to be hours. At any moment, Endymion was prepared to fall asleep sitting up.

But sweet Usako brought her face to his and asked in a whisper, light and smooth and inches from his ear, "Could you get me some more, darling?"

Even in his most lucid moments, the ever-eloquent King would have fallen to his jelly-ridden knees when she looked up at him in that way and charmed out her voice just like that. Whatever the control that sleep had over a person to act differently than they would otherwise, Endymion reacted just the same, leaned forward, sought out her mouth to take her into the deep clutches of passion's hands, and sunk until finally pulling away to do as she asked. Whatever she asked.

Once again, he pulled on his pajama bottoms and sauntered out the door.

June 29th, 3:50 A.M, twenty-hours and ten minutes to present

God the pillows felt good. How many times had he noticed how good the pillows felt in all his years of living? He buried his face to uttermost contentment in it and nestled deeper into the warmth of the blankets, the heavenly covers, the lusciousness of the mattress beneath him Any minute now he would find the strength to pull his wife to him and he would take that ride to sleep's cloud nine.

He would sleep in. He was certain nothing short of a world war would happen that required his utmost attention.

Sleep.

"I wonder."

One eye popped open.

"I really, really wonder."

Then the other.

"Just how many glasses do you suppose it would take you."

He didn't know where he found the strength, but he lifted his head at that moment. At that tone.

"To figure out."

His eyes wandered up, latched on to deadly serene ones.

"That I am in."

That she was in.

"An extreme amount of pain?"

Pain?

He struggled back into the present, struggled to process what she was saying. Pain? He sat up, rubbed at his eyes. Blinking back the spots threatening his vision, he looked her over. Pain? Where? Her back was up abnormally straight, her arms rigid as they hugged her knees, and her eyes shooting not the least amount of daggers at He looked behind him just to make sure no one else was there. Him.

But other than that she looked A-Okay. Not a scratch on her. And pleasantly full with child.

Pain?

His eyes moved back to hers questioningly before they widened. Then shot back to her stomach. To her eyes. Then her stomach. Then her eyes. Her stomach. Her ey-

"Oh for goodness sake!" She rolled over with uncommon grace and stood up, snatching her robe to yank on. "If you're going to sit there all morning and look like a fish, then I'll take myself!" She turned her glare on him once more as her hand sought to soothe her abdomen. Then she went for the door. "I certainly don't need you to have this baby!"

Still he didn't move. His mouth was gaping, his handsome features gawking in a way that, most probably, had him looking just like a fish indeed. His heart was pounding in his ears, the blood rushing through his system abnormally fast and for a moment he really thought that his lungs wouldn't work.

He was having a baby.

He glanced at the clock.

It was 3:56 A.M

He was having a baby.

It took the cogent sound of the door slamming to push him out of his stupor (and out of the bed, for that matter) and rushing after his wife.

June 29th 4:30 A.M, nineteen and a half hours to present.

"She's two centimeters dilated, Endymion-sama." Mercury, dressed in a white coat and holding a smart clipboard, jotted down notes unknown to the average person. "Hopefully we'll be pushing her to delivery soon." She lifted her arm, checked her watch. "Hmm."

Endymion paused. "What?" he asked sharply. "What's 'hmm'?"

"Hmm? Oh," she smiled. "Nothing." Right when she was about to turn on her heel, she paused in turn. "Isn't it June 29th?"

What? His hands ran ragged through his hair, ready to pull at it.
"Well, yes, I guess it is. Why?"

She gave him a curious look. "Nothing really. As I remember, Chibi-Usa said that she was born on June 30th. Same day as Usa-chan."

Oh. Right. Of course. Hadn't he thought that himself barely an hour ago? And then the hour before? He looked sheepish as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels. "Yes." He cleared his throat at the grogginess, and then repeated, "Yes." With an, "of course" trailing behind. But it was a most definite 'of course'. This wasn't supposed to happen until tomorrow.

Until he was ready.

Mental note: Get Pluto A.S.A.P (and because he was so particular about it, and probably because he was half-asleep, he mentally signed that note as well).

But the patient soul that was Ami gave him a sympathetic smile and nodded in understanding. "Don't worry, Endymion-sama. She'll be just fine. It's a stressful wait, isn't it?"

You don't know the half of it. His hands entered the locks of ebony again. He nodded gravely.

"Don't worry," she said again. Once more she began to turn, her eyes scanning her pages. She was half way down the hall before she stopped and called for him again.

His hand rubbed his chin (simply because he had nothing else to do with it) and his brow lifted distractedly as he watched the blue haired woman return to him.

"When did you say her contractions started again?"

Confused, he frowned. "I didn't."

"Oh, well, at what time did they begin?" She turned her clipboard over and tapped a pencil into the margin. "Just a note."

"Oh, I -umm " Let's see: sleeping at one, waking, milk, Usa, kiss,door slam. Contraction? "I-ah I don't know."

Ami started, eyes rushing up to look at his incredulously. "What about her water breaking?"

Water breaking? Did any water break? His hands once again shoved into his pockets uncomfortably.

"I don't know."

Silence. "You don't know?"

"Well, she didn't tell me." Black strands fell grumpily over blue eyes, clashing startlingly.

"What happened, then? Did she wake you?"

"Well yes. I just-she asked for milk. I got her milk."

"You got her milk," Ami stated flatly.

"Yes."

"And you didn't know?"

There was some secret code going on, of that he was sure. Careful with his footing, sensing that there was some big cliff out there and he was teetering over it, he slowly shook his head. Lest she didn't get it the first time, he repeated just as slowly, "She didn't tell me."

His foot must've slipped somewhere because when the water senshi did nothing but look at him with what could only be displeasure, he had a feeling that he just slipped several notches off the maternal ladder.

June 29th, 8:11 A.M, fifteen hours and forty-one minutes to present

"Mamo-chan?"

Endymion smoothed back the hair on Serenity's forehead and placed a cold, wet cloth there. Although medical science claimed that contractions were consistent with the dilating procedure, many women would probably sneer at the doctor's face for thinking so and, no doubt, Her Majesty Neo-Queen Serenity would be the first. He watched helplessly as she doubled over at the contraction, booming hard, spreading from her back to her knees and right to her toes.

"Yes, Usako?" His hands rubbed at her back.

"I need to tell you something."

His eyes blinked, trying to move over the fact that it already seemed as if she were telling him something anyway, despite her statement. However, every male, from the largest of Gods to the smallest of babes, knew that to actually tell this to a woman (no less a pregnant woman) was voluntary suicide. Still, in his sleep befuddled mind, he said, "Tell me?"

Her teeth bared at the next cramp. "Well it's not as if I can tell my 'mother', Endymion! She's in the Alps!"

"Right, of course, Darling." He tried not to wince at her use of his full name. "What is it?"

"Have you noticed," she gritted against the stabbing pain, "what I've noticed?"

"What's that, my love?"

Her eyes, tearful and brave, came up to his. "It's been over nine hours since these have started."

His other hand reached for her face, smoothing the tear. God, how he hated seeing her like this. "Yes, love. I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner. I am-I-"

"No, no. That's not it." She relaxed as the cramp drew away. She smiled tenderly, brushing her palm against his jaw. He leaned into it. "You don't have to apologize. I love you. But," she bit her bottom lip as a wheel chair passed the door. "I noticed that it has, indeed, been nine hours since this has started Almost four since we got here and and "

He clutched at her hand as tears began welling up, spilling forth and cutting his nerves to dices. "Usa?"

"I haven't had my baby yeeeeeetttttttttttt!"

If every nurse in the building (not counting the deaf ones) had acceded to stop at that very moment, they would have sworn above all the surgeries taking place, the crying in the infancy unit, and the talking in the waiting area that that single cry would be sketched into their minds forever.

"I know, Usako. But it must be moving along soon. Your contractions are quite close to each other, right?"

Her body almost stilled except for the timely twitch in her temple.

Her hand had been laying comfortably in his hand, but had then gone rigid. "What," she began, "are you saying exactly?"

"Well, nothing, except medical science claims that the closer the contractions are, the closer " He didn't even bother to finish his sentence when Serenity steely shifted.

As predicted, she sneered in the most royal manner than a man could ever claim to witness.

"By saying this, you're telling me I'm supposed to be in pain?"

"What? Of course not-"

"Well obviously by 'medical science', who must have had ten babies a week to have been published-by men no less-would know that I'm supposed to be bending over with utmost agony! Is that it?"

Her voice rose by the vowel.

"Usa, I did not say that! I was simply implying that historically medical science has been right nine times out of ten-"

"Well then! Obviously if they've been right ninety percent of the time, they must be right right now! Because I'm a nine times out of ten type person, is that it?"

He was really slipping down that damn ladder at a fast pace, and he wasn't even sure which step he accidentally made. His hands rubbed at his sleep-deprived eyes. "I was just trying to assure you-"

"Endymion," he winced as she used his full name, "If you're going to use this tone in front of my baby, then you should assure yourself right out that door."

In a matter of minutes, the legendary man of the knights, the bravery, and the strength realized what it was to contradict an expectant mother. And contradicted his last.

Endymion moved his stare to the clock.

8:15 A.M

June 29th, 10:01 A.M, fourteen hours to present

He was stuck on the stuff. Coffee, that is. Every five minutes there was a brand new brew in his hand and he was sucking it down like Serenity did Popsicle sticks. Except for the last nine months, he mused. During the last nine months, Serenity didn't care for Popsicle sticks unless chocolate and peanut butter accompanied it. Since Mamoru, and now Endymion, had always been a stickler for healthy foods, he became a wreck at the thought that anything might happen to his wife and unborn child should she eat the wrong food. Therefore, very rarely did he let the silver maiden find the chocolate, the peanut butter or the popsicles all at once. This never left an amused Queen, but one had to make sacrifices where one could.

He was quite certain she hadn't the foggiest clue that he did it anyhow.

Still, his wife was sleeping soundly at the moment, finally able to push aside the contractions enough to rest, and Endymion could only wish that he could do the same. But his nerves were standing on ends, and the last he wanted to do was miss any moment of what might happen.

His eyes shifted to the bulletin board. On it, a large two followed by a nine, and the JUNE stamped right after. It was still June twenty-ninth.

"How are you holding up?"

His eyes blinked and he shifted from his coffee cup to stare up at the sandy-blonde man before him, a grin lightning his features in a way that had the King's fingers tense on the styrofoam.

But he said, "I'm okay, Motoki," and took another sip, fighting the liquid swish caused by shaky fingers.

"Well, you look okay." Thumbs up, and another lightning grin.
His eyes felt on fire, and close to burning out. And Motoki didn't mind saying as much either.

A long drawn out sigh collapsed from his throat. His body literally deflated as he sank into a chair. "What brings you this way?"

"Actually, I was a bit hurt that you didn't call me yourself."

"Why would I call you?" It was garbled beneath his breath and muffled into his free hand, but Motoki, ever the coherent, only made a face at him and said, "Manly support of course."

Blue eyes, peaked out from between fingers, inquiring.

"Senshi filled me in. Heard Usag-er, Serenity-" It was still hard to keep names straight these days. "I heard your wife was going into labor."

"Yeah." Endymion's knees started bobbing, up and down. Up and down.
Twitchy. "Heard that too." He brought up the cup again, ready to take a sip, and had his head tilted all the way back until he realized that there wasn't a drop of caffeine left. Immediately he sought the coffee pot.

"Well, is she, or isn't she?"

"Is she."

"What?"

"She is. I think." His hand bobbled. "The doctor said she was getting there." Getting there. Those were his exact words. Endymion nearly went for his throat for such a general answer. Was she there or wasn't she? It was a simple answer, for God's sake!

He groaned. He needed sleep.

"Endymion," Motoki murmured gravely, "you used to be a doctor yourself you know."

His eyes cut piercingly at the blond. "I wasn't an obstetrician."
Wise guy.

"But isn't this common knowledge? Shouldn't you know this? What about Lamaze class?"

He swirled the newly released coffee around his Styrofoam goblet. No doubt it was too strong, too bitter from sitting at the bottom of the machine for so long. But more likely it'd keep him awake for longer.
"Where's that manly support you were talking about?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Well, while you're here," he started slowly, eyes jolting to the clock, "would you mind switching places with me?"

Motoki blinked at him. For two minutes he blinked at him in what could only be termed 'stunned silence'. For two minutes he stood there like 'manikin man' with the most expressionless face in all of Tokyo and, in all, he could be sure, the world. For two minutes the tension from every corner of the hospital stretched between them in breaking stillness.

Then a tremble. A contract. His fingers flinched. His lips twitched.

And then-

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Endymion was not entertained. He didn't even crack a contagious smile.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

He sighed, leaned back, gulped back the disgustingly hostile coffee and waited.

And waited.

Aaaa-nnnnn-ddddd waited.

"Oh my Gosh. Oh. My. Gosh." Motoki wiped the tears from his eyes. He stumbled over to Endymion, patted his back while he still remained a bit hunched from the pain of laughter. "That was good."

"I don't see how, " he gritted out. "You went through this with Reika as I recall."

"Yeah." His eyes were bright green and dewy with cynic. "I went through this with Reika. I did it. I've given my share. I'm done for this year."

"But for next year you're free?"

"Well," Motoki looked sheepish. He rubbed the back of his head and his eyes seemed to flow far away. "You have to admit that in the end when you hold that bundle in your arms and know that it's yours, you realize it's all worth it."

"Yeah." Endymion's breath blew out, and his lungs seemed to sigh their own relief. "So there must be something good about this whole process that you can remember and give advice on, right?"

"Yeah!" Motoki said triumphantly, his fist stuck in the air.

"Well? What is it?"

"What is-oh. Well huh." The hand that had been triumphant seconds before now touched his chin in thought. "Actually," his smile was apologizing, "I can't give you any advice. On the before part of it, that is."

"Why not? What happened?"

"I can't really recall," he replied. "The only thing I remember is Reika's face-God, it was red. I didn't know it could get that red when they're angry. I mean, this was red! Tomatoes have nothing against-"

"Motoki!"

"Right!" He paused. "Like I said, I remember Reika yelling at me and her hand cutting off my circulation." He trailed off before starting, his eyes narrowing in on Endymion's gravely. The wind from an open window swooshed around them. "Don't be surprised if she has a fantasy about a train, a track, and you tied to it."

The ebony haired man let his head fall to the wall.

Thanks, Motoki.

His eyes glanced towards the clock.

10:17 A.M.

June 29th 1:00 P.M, eleven hours to present

"I need to walk."

Serenity had mumbled it from her spot in her hospital bed.

Endymion had been close to nodding off, his hand holding hers. Until that moment, he thought she was still sleeping as well. Heavy, disoriented, and with the strength of Hercules, he lifted his head to look at his wife.

"I need to walk," she repeated, and a bit grumpily for that matter.

"Are you sure, Usako? I don't want you to-"

"Mamo-chan," she interrupted, patting his hand in her uncommonly steel grip. "Are you the one having this baby? Because," she said before he could answer. "Until you are, I think that I'm the only one in this room who can be "quite sure" if she wants to walk or not."

Pronunciation was always important in the royal family-one had to be proper when speaking to the public-but when every word was stressed to the breaking point on each t, k, and r, well, that was just going beyond pronunciation and into psychotic over-correcting.

But the smart Endymion was not stupid. Not entirely, anyway. And he knew quite well when to keep his mouth shut about these feminine issues. So with gentile expertise (he wasn't Tuxedo Kamen for nothing), he lifted her frame from the bed and helped her stand. They were half way out the door when his Usako suddenly ripped her hand from out of his with a blush staining her face.

"Usako? What-?"

"."

"I are you su-" He gulped back the last of that sentences when her eyes rippled steel. And remembered Motoki's story. "If that's what you want, darling." So off he went, poking his head outside the room at the three girls chatting delightfully with each other-Mars in the chair, Jupiter leaning against the wall with a snack bar, and Venus grinning, winking and making eyes at an unsuspecting intern.

His brow arched. He didn't know Venusians could be cougars then again, who else?

Not two minutes later did he stand there, watching Serenity waddle off with Jupiter. His stomach still pumped in knots and bubbles as he considered all the possibilities that could happen without him there.

She could fall down the stairs. She could trip on her hair. She could have a klutz attack and ram into a door!

A hand touched his arm. He jumped.

Mars grinned. "Chill."

He stared at her incredulously.

She began slowly. "She'll be okay, you know."

"I know, I know," he said. His hands rammed through his hair, ready to tear. "Why didn't she want to walk with me?" He asked it to himself, but around women nonetheless.

"Isn't it obvious?" Venus arched her brow, and then rolled her eyes at the blank stare she received. She scratched at an absent itch before saying, "She doesn't feel attractive. She doesn't want you to see her like this."

"What?" He kicked softly at the wall, if just for something to do.
"I don't care how she looks. I love her-"

It seemed he would get interrupted an awful lot during the next bit.

"Yes, yes. We know that." Mars patted his back, all understanding eyes and compassionate smiles. "And she knows that. Deep down. But you have to understand that while she knows that "

"She doesn't know that," Venus finished.

He probably looked like a fish again. A fish with mussed hair, a day's growth of beard and eyes that were as dry as the dessert. And he gawked at them, flabbergasted. There really wasn't any other term for it.

"There, there," Mars whispered, condolences pouring out of every fiber of her being. "It'll be just fine."

Venus checked her watch. "Although it is taking an extreme amount of time. How far apart did you say her contractions were when you came in?"

"I didn't."

"Oh, yes," Mars nodded, laughing. "Silly Venus. Well, how far apart were they then?"
His head shook, his hand came up, trying to concentrate. Where were those coffee people? "I don't know. I didn't know."

"You didn't know?" Venus asked, stunned. "Well, how did you know she was going into labor?"

"I I didn't. She didn't tell me."

Mars brows creased together. Her toe tapped to the rhythm in her head as she studied him thoughtfully. "Well what did she do?"

"She asked me for milk..." The last part was drawn cautiously out as he watched their expressions turn from sympathetic to downright unmoved.

They both turned to walk after Jupiter and Serenity and in the distance, Endymion could have sworn Venus whispering a dismayed, "And he didn't know?" And the ever witting Mars muttering a cursed, "Men "
before disappearing around the corner.

June 29th,4:30 P.M, seven and a half hours to present

"What. Do. You. Mean."

The words came in long, steely gnashes and were directed,
thankfully, at the obstetrician instead of him.

"I mean," he repeated, "was that we can't give you an epidural until you are five centimeters dilated."

Her nostrils flared. Her jaw squared. Her eyes flashed dangerously.
"WE can't give me an epidural, is it?"

"That's right." The doctor was studying the paper before him, and turning to the machines to monitor its progress.

"Is that so?"

"Yes." It ended more like 'yessssssss' than intended as the doctor turned to stare at the brutally soft tone of his Queen's voice.
Endymion watched him take a step back. Smart man. And made not a sound as Serenity clenched his hand tighter in her grasp. It had been thirty-three hours since he had last gotten a full night sleep, fifteen hours since the anguish had begun, and twelve hours since they arrived.

"Well WE do not need to give me an epidural. I do not recall asking we for permission. I, on the other hand, have the perfect capability of doing it myself! I don't know if it has occurred to any of you, but I have been here for twelve hours and you-YOU-have the gall to tell me that I'm not even half way there yet? That's it!" She snarled at him and yanked Endymion close to her side. "You're fired! No-banished! I want a real doctor, and I do NOT mean you, Mamo-chan!"

He hadn't even tried to say anything.

"Where's Ami? I want her in here now! Wait!" She gasped, lunging for Endymion when he tried to move to find the notoriously blue haired senshi. "Where are you going?" she asked with every air of innocence.

It took him a moment to sort out the sudden change in tone. "I was going to find Ami for you, Usa."

Suddenly both hands shot to his arm. Tears brimmed in her eyes, sparkling. "You won't leave me will you? I'm sorry."

He threaded his fingers with her and positively melted at her tearing eyes. Anything he could do, he'd do if only to stop one tear from spilling. And he reminded himself of that repeatedly throughout the procedure.

"I won't leave."

June 29th, 6:05 P.M, five hours and fifty five minutes to present

He had her up against the wall. Motoki was on holding his shoulder back, Ami and Mars trying to speak through his clouded gaze as he glared down at the Senshi of Time with eyes that had once made hearts flutter. Right now, in the room, Serenity was slumbering off into a land of no reach while he was trying to shake off the fact that she was only five centimeter dilated. That his Usa had been through terrible contractions ever since and that the fates seemed to be quite certain that they'd keep him on pulled tendons for the rest of his life. He long since lost track of the time.

And don't think he hadn't forgotten that the date wasn't right.

June 29th.

Obviously Pluto had received the memo.

"Sometimes this happens, Endymion-sama." Pluto rushed on. "I've told you this before."

"According to history, this wasn't supposed to happen until tomorrow. Until Usako's birthday." Until he was ready. Prepared.
Emotionally set.

"The future isn't written in stone, my King." The last part came out partly gasped, as she had been trying to hold her breath against the blue fire raging in His Highness's gaze.

"Are you telling me," he grounded, "that Usa is in terrible pain, I am on my last nerve, the coffee pot has been drained for the past five hours and there is no telling when the pain will stop simply because the future isn't written in stone?"

"That's a very real possibility."

Something shuddered up in his neck, as if there was the ghost of a snake there hissing at his hairs and rushing shudders up and down his spine. On the other hand his spine was rod straight and his muscles clamped together in spades.

He went on, unable to let go. "But it was written in stone. It was. Princess Lady Serenity was to be born on June 30th. Today is not June 30th. Tomorrow is June 30th."

"King Endymion." In her tranquil state, her eyes remained steady, and considering that the King of Earth was ready to tear SOMEONE to pieces and that SHE happened to be in clear view of his rage, that was saying something. "This happens all the time. It isn't a big change. She'll be fine." She cleared her throat. "This happens all the time in pregnancies."

He knew that. He used to be a doctor. But somehow he thought it'd be different this time. His muscles suddenly went lax. Moving like the clock ticked, he steadily made his way to a chair, slumped in it, and wondered aloud, "There really is no telling how this'll go, is there?"

Pluto shifted wearily, leaning on her staff for seconds.

"Well, er," she coughed, "Medical books say that spasms are coherent with the progress of the labor period." She started biting on her lip, a nervous habit. "You-uh-when did you say they began?"

"He didn't."

Courtesy of all four inners and a Reika.

"He didn't?" Her brows shot beneath her bangs. "Well, she must have told you, I should think!"

"She asked for milk."

"Milk." The senshi of time nodded to him with a face of indulgence.

Then subtly blurted out, "And he didn't know?"

No one really answered, except for the agreeing silence and sympathetic mewls coming from the six women (Reika included), while Motoki stood beside him bravely and patted him in the ways that men did. Encouraging. Supportive. There'll be a light at the end of the tunnel. Every cloud with a silver lining.

As for Endymion, he closed his eyes warily, prayed to any god up there and searched for the door. There really was no telling when this all would be over.

Endymion stared at the door across from him, his lips tightening into a thin line. "Well," he said hoarsely, "is there any telling when the coffee will be ready?"

June 29th 6:10 P.M Five hours and fifty minutes to present

The coffee was ready.

June 29th 8:46 P.M, three hours and fifteen minutes to present

"I can't believe this is happening. It's such a miracle!"

Endymion watched as his wife cheerfully took a bite out of her cheeseburger. For the blessed moment, she claimed that the cramping had stopped-with the help of a small pill that Endymion forced the doctor to slip her after said doctor cautiously took the rubber hammer from his hand.

"It's going to happen any minute now, Mamo-chan." Usagi gazed up adoringly at her husband. "I just know it." She practically glowed.

He took a bite from her offered burger. But said, "We'll see..."

June 29th, 9:50 P.M., two hours and ten minutes to present

"Nine centimeters." The doctor grinned. "It'll be any moment now."

"See, Endymion-sama?" Jupiter shuffled the cards and dealt them across the bed. A cocky grin played on her lips. "Nothing to worry about."

Venus picked up her cards, frowned, scrunched her nose, disgusted, and then casually leaned over Pluto's side and slowly peaked over.

At covered cards.

Venus blinked and arched a brow. "A bit distrustful of you, don't you think?"

"Obviously for good reason," she replied, a knowing look withering her stare.

Blonde eyebrows shot up. "You cheat!"

"I'm not called the Time Senshi for nothing, girl." Her eyes began turning to her cards and got caught in the gape of Endymion. "This doesn't count!"

He rolled his eyes, swept the wetness of his hair back, and did his best to try to control the buzz that cappuccino had played on his nerves.

Women.

June 29th 11:03 P.M., fifty-seven minutes to present

Something was poking at him again, that eternal deadly touch that disguised itself as a 'poke,' the poke that, for surely, would be the end of him. Endymion grunted, shifted, frowned and made his best effort (which really wasn't necessary) to fall back into the warmth of sleep once more.

Comfort greeted him with all smiles, and then flashing teeth would play the part of rest. And finally he would be able to take that final journey to the land of bliss.

But it just kept poking him!

With an audible groan, he roused himself. He doubted even the world's largest army could find the strength to lift a head as heavy as his felt, but he somehow found the strength enough to pull away from the tempting clutches of dreams and into the drowning pools of spitfire.

"Did we wake you, honey?" Serenity asked sweetly. A bit too sweetly.

As a former doctor, he knew that too many sweets weren't good for anyone!

He did something wrong. Blinking, he carefully scanned his surroundings as a doe in a field just a tad too quiet. "What's happening?"

The doctor was standing at the end of the bed (it was funny how Endymion never got his name) and was flashing a grin over to him.

"We're ready to go!"

We're ready to go. Endymion sat up. A smile was itching at the corners of his mouth, but he was afraid that it was too much to hope for. He glanced to his wife for confirmation. She was frowning.

Something was wrong. It was also more obvious than not that the pill had worn off. And she wasn't happy with him.

"Usako?"

The bed started moving as nurses pushed her from the room. He rushed to keep up.

"What did you mean," she started, looking at her fingernails, "when you said 'we'll see'?"

Uh-oh.

"I said-when?"

Her answer came through clenched teeth and a glower. "When I said that the baby would be soon, and you said 'we'll sssssseeeeeeeee.'"

She grimaced. "Like you didn't believe me. Did you know it wouldn't be soon? Did Pluto tell you?" Her tone was starch and accusing.

"Of course not, Usa." His hand fell to his stomach as it twisted, watching her twist with her own contraction. "All she told me was that the baby's birth probably wouldn't fall on your birthday like we thought, Usa."

She stared at him incredulously. "Well of course it wasn't happening by tomorrow! I figured that out twenty-two hours ago when it started happening today!"

As the bed rushed into the delivery room, she didn't hesitate to grumble out a well-deserved, "How can men be so idiotic sometimes ?"

11:09 P.M

June 29th, 11:48 P.M, twelve minutes to present

When they had first met and she had shrilled at him like nothing else, all he could do was stand by and watch how adorable she looked with the most painful of eardrums on earth-he didn't think it would ever be possible to rival that decibel level.

Of course then Chibi-Usa came to visit, and he gentlemanly rebuffed himself, respectfully.

But now, haha. Oh now he could see he was wrong on both accounts and swore that not another day would go on where he doubted his wife's ability to prove him wrong oh so many times. Because as of that moment she was gripping his hand in a bone breaking grip and screaming at the top of her lungs during brief intervals, stopping only to take deep breaths and shallow pants.

"That's it, darling." He was sweating beneath his mask and headpiece. "Keep breathing, like we practiced. One, two, three, four.
One, two, three, four. In, out, in out, in-"

"Don't you dare tell me what to do, Chiba!" she shouted, but kept his hands clenched hard in hers. "I've been breathing since I've been BORN! You're the reason this is happening to me now! This is all your fault!" The end of her sentence rose with the next contraction. Sweat trickled down her forehead. "And don't think I don't know about the peanut butter, chocolate and popsicle separation!" She breathed in sharply. "You did that on purpose! If you just gave me the popsicles, I would probably have had this kid by now! This. Is. All. YOUR. FAAAAAAULLLTTT!"

In the ways of English and aggravated tones, it came out more like "fault-a" than the actually word.

"In a few minutes I'm going to tell you to start pushing, Serenity-sama," the doctor said, and then fiddled around in the ways that doctors usually did whatever they were doing.

"Oh Mamo-chan!" In a sudden burst of desperation, her other hand went for his shirt as she pulled him forward. "You won't leave, will you? I'm so sorry! I love you. I love you. I love-aahhhhhhh!"

He couldn't be sure whether it was she that screamed or him and later (whether it be hours or years), he probably wouldn't care to relive the memory. The fact was as Endymion shifted, impatient to see what was happening, Serenity's hand clenched on his in a grip tight enough to seal a vault, while at the same time his eyes met the same sight that the doctor was viewing.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

As he told Motoki before, and would tell him numerous times again after witnessing this spectacle, he never was an obstetrician.

That had been eleven minutes ago. He had woken up five minutes after and had been disallowed back into the room.

Apparently his display wasn't inspiring and his wife, teamed with an unyielding nurse, banned him from the room. Where now he was waiting, staring up at the Luna clock and waiting for his daughter to be born.

That is, his eyes cut cynically to Pluto. If it was a daughter.

After all, who knew these days?

His hands batted at his face, then couldn't help but run through his ebony cap once more. For the fifty-fifth time. His stress felt like tight ropes performing a balancing act, and his star performer had just fallen off, leaving his nerves teeming.

His eyes brought the clock into focus again. 11:59. Still.

Somebody was definitely going to pay for this.

"Only a matter of minutes now." Motoki yawned. "Isn't it exciting?"

Yes. But the wash of excitement coupled with anxiety and forgotten fatigue was doing wonders on his tummy, and he thought for a moment that the butterflies inside him were using his body as a punching bag. He scowled. Damn butterflies

"I wonder if she's doing okay in there." His feet began hopping from left to right, then left again. "Do you think she needs help?"

A roar came from the room again. If one listened closely, but not that closely, he or she could have heard a grunted "I hate you" coming from it.

"They always say that," Motoki reassured him.

"How would you know?" he said monotonously. "You fainted."

Motoki glared. "Obviously I wasn't the last man to do it."

Endymion returned the look evenly. A minute might have passed before he snarled, "I've never been an obstetrician."

The arcade manager opened his mouth, but what would come out of it would never be known as the door opened and a beaming doctor came out. Had the opportunity presented itself, a halo might have hovered above his head.

"Congratulations, Your Highness. A new family member had just arrived."

Endymion was already on his feet and through the door before the poor doctor could even finish the sentence. The sight that greeted him, however, was one he would never be able to put into words. Not appropriately.

Nothing could term this moment appropriately.

The nurse had just brought the bundle back to its mothers awaiting arms. Other medical staff was mulling around the room to clean and Serenity was still in the lithotomy position. But all he saw was her face, sunny with ocean eyes full of brimming tears, and he stared down at the small fortune wrapped in pink.

Pink.

His baby.

Serenity glanced up at the staggered position of her husband, staring silently at them as if he couldn't bear to move. As if any change might break the magic humming in the air. Delicately she smiled. "Come," she whispered, keeping her voice low as her cheek snuggled the soft thatch of hair on her daughter's head. "Meet your daughter."

His daughter.

Careful, he told himself. So carefully, he took one step forward, and didn't even have to force himself to take the rest quickly to her bedside. To stare down at the pink face peaking out from beneath the folds of cotton warmth. In response, not the least bit wondering, red eyes stared unwavering back up at him, as if to say, Were you waiting long? How's the weather, then?

A gurgle of mirth built at the back of his throat. All of a sudden he wanted to laugh. To dance and sing and sit and feel all at once. He wasn't even sure that it was his skin that kept him from leaping in all directions at different periods but in the end, he settled to rub his nose against his daughter's, press his cheek to hers and breathe in the natural scent that babies always brought with them.

Outside the branches of the trees scratched against the pane, as if impatient to see the baby themselves. The clock ticked quietly in the background, making his ears perk, and his eyes darted to the clock settled on the overhang.

12:08 A.M

June 30th.

Written in stone.

Unwilling to let go of the small hand in his left and the tiny one he held in his right, he turned his head slowly to the creak of the door. Eyes narrowed. Brow domed. And Pluto gave him a quick, meaningful smile before she quietly shut the door behind her.

If he didn't know any better, he would have assumed that the Time Senshi actually knew something of this.

But that would have been crazy.

Still careful, he turned and rested his gaze upon his dozing wife.

While his finger absently played with the infant hand in his, he leaned down, pressed his nose up against Serenity's, and murmured what every man would think in the aftermath of child labor.

"You knew about this, didn't you?"

He murmured it against her mouth.

Blue eyes, tinted with silver streaking a sky, opened seconds after a silver brow durst to arch. Nevertheless, innocence radiated from each pore as she pouted, and then answered the answer every woman would if asked. "Now, Endymion, darling, please Why would I ever hold information like this," her eyes glinted, expressive, "from you?"

Why, indeed.

The question would never be answered. Not from his lips. Not from hers. Because on the last Sunday of the sixth month, Endymion would later present a three tier golden locket to his wife -in memory, he said, of the first Sunday he gave one to her-and neither would remember why they asked those questions in the first place.

But at that time, Endymion simply lifted his lips away (but only slightly as to not break contact) and melted his gaze on hers,
bringing his lips to her ear. "Happy birthday, Usako."

It would be said that not another word was spoken in the comfort of that room for the next twenty-four hours.

And on the seventh day of the forty seventh week, the newly dubbed father would be dead to the world for twenty-seven hours ensuing.

It would then be written that on that seventh day of that forty-
seventh week, between the hours of 3:00A.M on June 30th and 6:00 A.M on July 1st, that Neo-King Endymion, in all his slumber, garbled out in a jumbled declaration that it would take three glasses of milk, one anti-poking outfit, and a five-year interval before even God himself could bring him to wait through another child birth.

But that would be another story for another time. And it would happen on the third day, anyway.

"And on the seventh day God ended his work which he had made; and he rested on the seventh day from all his work which he had made." Gen. 2:2

End.