Freddie burst frantically into the circus tent, glancing around wildly until he spied Astrid. He launched himself at her, wrapping both arms around her waist.

"What is it, Freddie? What's wrong?" she asked, trying to scan him for injury.

"Rhys and John said they were gonna send away to America for baseball bats to keep the boys away!"

The other occupants of the tent burst into laughter, except for Rose, who covered her mouth with her hand, and Astrid, who pressed her lips firmly together.

"They didn't mean little guys like you!" Clyde chortled.

"But…I'm a boy," Freddie said, in a very small voice.

"Clyde's right, darling," Astrid assured him. "That's just something that fathers of pretty girls like to say. You'll understand when you're older, I promise."

John was humming under his breath as he waltzed into the trailer, carrying a giggling Jackie. He stilled at the stern look Rose leveled at him.

"I hope you're proud of yourself," Rose scolded. "You and Rhys managed to terrorize a six year old today!"

"What? How?" John asked, genuinely perplexed.

Rose's eyebrows shot up. "Sending to America for baseball bats ring any bells?"

"Oh."

"You can apologize to Astrid, the next time you see her. She's the one who got to clean up your mess."

"She's really good with Freddie," he offered in a conciliatory tone.

"Yes, she is, but you really need to mind what you say around the kids."

"I'm sorry," John said contritely, passing Jackie into Rose's arms. "If it's any consolation, that comment was part of a discussion about how, if our girls turned out to be as beautiful as their mums, we were going to be besieged in a few years."

Rose smiled, in spite of herself, and John leaned down to kiss the end of her nose.

"You think you're so impressive!"

"I am so impressive, aren't I, Miss Jackie?"

Jackie looked up at him and shrieked with laughter.

Thank you to everyone who came along for the ride - a one-shot that turned into seven and a half months, forty-six chapters, and ninety-five pages. Enormous thanks to the lovely tenroseforeverandever for read throughs, ideas, and moral support (lots and lots of moral support!).

Epilogue

John Tyler-Smith blinked in the darkness, wondering vaguely what had woken him. Not a nightmare, he decided. Rose was sleeping peacefully beside him, and Merlin was draped across his ankles. Not his two little pig-tailed alarm clocks, either - the trailer was silent.

A glance at the clock revealed that it was, indeed his birthday. The very early hours of it, at least. He'd never been one for fussing about such things, but he knew there was some sort of gift that involved pink paint handprints stashed somewhere in the trailer, and Rhys and Lazlo had done a fairly poor job of smuggling a few express packages out of his line of sight.

John had always been alone. Even as a lad, his serious demeanor had been enough for him to acquire a reputation as a grumpy sod, long before he'd done anything to deserve it. Then came the war, with all its horror and filth, and the aftermath that no one ever thought to mention. Then came an empty flat and a boring job in a small town, where no one knew him. And then he met her.

Rose stirred slightly in her sleep, and snuggled against his shoulder. Moving ever so carefully, John dipped his head slightly, to press a kiss to her hair. He still marveled that this delicate creature, who moved through the world in an aura of light and laughter, should have chosen him.

As a child, his dreams of a home had been typical - a red brick house, with a garden, and fireplace, and plenty of bookcases, but the reality was so much sweeter. He had friends, and travel, and adventure - everything he'd never dared to dream could be his. Their tiny little home on wheels was so much bigger on the inside - because it was filled with love.

John settled Rose a bit closer to his side and let his eyes drift shut.

Finis.