Disclaimer: I do not own Sailor Moon tear

A/N: the first chaps. will be a little on the short side by it will get better. So any way on with the story

Chapter 1

The shrill cries woke him.

Multimillionaire bachelor Darien Shields rolled over in bed and listened.

What the hell he though. It couldn't be the television since his twin brother Andrew, and Andrew's new wife Mina, were on an extended honeymoon.

Beside the sound of the TV wouldn't reach his suite of rooms.

None of the staff at the house he shared with his brother would dare turn on the TV while on duty.

And gauging from the sky's pale light it was just barely 6:00 a.m. Stupid cats he decided.

Despite the garners attempts, strays had obviously gotten onto the grounds again and were fighting.

Darien pushed out of bed and cursed it was too damn early and he was too damn tired to be messing around with some dumb cats.

Swinging his bare legs over the edge of the bed, his toes sank into the lush tan carpet. He slid his feet into slippers and grabbed his silk robe, shrugging it on his paisley shorts.

He doubted anyone was up yet. However in a house this size you could never be sure

about running into the staff.

So it was safer to take these precautions. As he walked to the balcony, he rubbed a weary hand over his face. This was NOT how he liked to be awakened this early in the morning.

He had a hard day ahead of him and a hell of a hard one yesterday at Shields inc.

He was planning two more store openings across the country and with Drew gone; all the extra work fell on him. Not that he was upset with him for taking an extended honeymoon.

Andrew had had a ruff two years ever since his wife Rita died.

After that he had begun to see a grief therapist, Mina, who was now, is wife.

Darien had held down the fort for the past two years what did a few more weeks matter?

Padding down the balcony stairs, Darien followed the iron railing around the corner, he stopped dumb founded and stared in amazement.

"Sarah!" It was his housekeeper's fault. It just had to be.

"Sarah, where are you!" He continued to stared dumb founded rooted at the spot until he hear hurried footsteps.

"Oh, mercy," the housekeeper said. Her gasp told him he'd been wrong. "Do you have grandkids?" "Certainly not. You know my husband and I wouldn't keep that a secret."

She stood by him and stared too. "Well do something!" he finally said. "Like what?" she asked. "You're a woman. Don't you know what to do about these things?" "That's a sexist remark, Mr. shields."

Realizing she didn't intend to move from her position as an observer, he stepped forward. The sounds stopped. He raised an eyebrow and peered inside a laundry basket which contained two toddlers.

Oh fuck he thought. "Well?" Sarah prodded. He shot her a look to tell her to mind her tongue and took another step forward. "They're sorta small, aren't they?"

"I guess but you would know better than me." He looked over his shoulder and gave her a piercing look. "And what the hell is that suppose to mean?" Sarah had been with the household since Darien was five so his scowl didn't faze her in the least. Plopping her hand on her hips, she replied, "What do you think I mean? They look just like……. look, there's a note." Darien plucked the piece of paper off the side of the laundry basket and began to read:

Dear Darien,

I had no one else to eave them with. I'm in trouble, and have to leave. I know you'll take good care of them and love them for me. Please don't tell anyone this secret. I've always thought they looked like my knight in shining armor. I've never forgotten you. Thank you. You're a kind man.

P.S. Meet Darien Alan and Madeline Renee.

Darien stared in disbelief at the note until a giggle from the basket drew his attention.

Darien and Madeline?

Two cherubic faces stared back at him. He wasn't sure how old they were but he knew they were too big to be newborns. And the writer of the note was right. They did look like him. They both had dark hair and one had deep blue eyes, hinting at Cajun lineage.

But his?

Impossible! He knew that for certain. He wasn't promiscuous.

"Well Mr. Shields," Sarah said, her voice reeking with disapproval. "Are you just going to leave your kids out here on the porch or bring them into the house?"

She pivoted and marched away before he could answer.

His kids.