AS soon as they were clear and into the ad break Dane was up and taking off his microphone. His usually pale complexion would make snow look like something out of the Sahara.

He was a dead man.

Mark was going to kill him and then his management would flay him alive but it was nothing to what Sarah would do to him.

Yes he was a dead man.

Anna moved in to congratulate him, to send a message to her "school chum" Sarah and to most probably ask details but Mark was quicker, as soon as the conversation took a more personal turn he was there, diving in and ushering his client away (trying to hide the look of absolute panic on his face). They were in the BBC, they were in the fucking BBC, the BBC crawling with journalists and Dane had just admitted he'd fathered a child. Dane Hilditch, one of the biggest stars in the UK, had just let slip he was a father and not with his girlfriend but his best friend. Dane Hilditch, who employed him to handle his publicity, had just made his job difficult, very difficult, so very fucking difficult all while standing inside enemy territory. Not that the BBC were all about gossip but still. Oh god, Oh god, Hilditch and Huntington WERE really going to be the death of him.

Of course all this was happening under the surface, deep down in Marks subconscious – on the surface, he was a gliding graceful swan – hopefully, no-one could see the furious paddling underneath.

"Sorry Anna we have to go – more appointments to keep," he said trying hard to keep his composure while guiding Dane out of the building as quickly as possible. Tennant and his publicist (who was a friend of Mark's and sympathetic) played interference, chatting to the host and floor manager while Dane and Mark made a break for it.

"Sorry," Dane mumbled as they left the building as fast as possible, Mark's phone was already starting to ring, or was it Dane's? He had hold of both and he got the feeling it was going to busy day.

Crowds of fans were outside to greet them, some had been there since dawn and Dane, running late on the way in, had promised to sign on the way out. But Mark had other ideas and was horrified when Dane broke away.

"Oh no you've already gone rogue once on me today we have to go," he whispered in Dane's ear as his charge signed an autograph and then took a selfie with a mum and her two young teen-aged daughters – as promised.

"Just a couple!" he hissed over his shoulders and Mark harrumphed. Dane loved his fans, he knew that, but he had a feeling this was more about stalling for time than anything else. He didn't blame him. Sarah was a firecracker at the best of times but she was surging with all sorts of pregnancy hormones at the moment. Mark didn't really want to be himself right now but he wanted to be Dane even less. 

There was another scream from the fans and they turned to see David Tennant exit the building. He came over to Dane while Gracie his publicist went to Mark and put a supportive arm around him realising, no doubt, what a shit-storm Dane had unleashed.

In contrast, David clapped Dane on the back loudly.

"Congratulations Daneo," he said. "Fatherhood is brilliant, scary but brilliant – best thing I've ever done!"

"Thanks!" Dane answered smiling unsteadily as the security helped them move away from the crowd and out to their waiting cars.

"Hug Sarah for me – um if she'll let you and just remember I have a spare room and a comfortable couch if you need it!" he said hugging his colleague as they both made their way to their vehicles. David had worked with Sarah in the past several times and he knew that boy was going to need all the luck he could get.

Safely in their car without any paps chasing them, Mark finally let out a huge breath and then launched into the tirade that Dane knew was coming. His PR, and friend was the calmest man he'd ever met, unflappable, the perfect foil for him – until he was pissed. And he was most decidedly pissed.

The PR put the back of his hand over his eyes and groaned dramatically.

"What a nightmare, what a fucking nightmare," he sighed.

"What the HELL were you thinking, sure you made a mistake, those happen but bugger me Dane, both Anna and Tennant offered you ways out and instead you stumbled over your words and flushed your whole career down the toilet – oh god – and mine – you're my number one client, people only know me because of you."

The air turned blue then, decidedly blue – a deep navy – as Mark let out a string of curses. Dane looked at his friend wide-eyed. He'd only ever heard Mark swear once or twice in all the time he'd known him and that was since they were at university together – him, Mark and Sarah. He was actually going to ask Sarah if Mark could be Lysander's godfather if she wanted to do the whole religion thing, but that wasn't a conversation he was going to have with either of them now. 

If placid Mark was this pissed, Dane didn't want to go home.

"Maybe we should go for coffee – calm down a bit – talk about strategies," Dane offered putting a soothing hand on his friend's shoulder.

Mark looked at him and smiled, it was a smile that reached almost Machiavellian levels of evil.

"Oh no, you are one of my best friends I love you like a brother but right now I don't like you very much, Dane Hilditch, right now I wish bad things would happen to you and so I'm doing the most evil thing I can do– I'm sending you home to your peed off, hormonal wife," he answered narrowing his eyes.

"She's not my wife," Dane sighed.

"Only in the eyes of the law, we both know she's always had your balls in her hands and right now that's the last place I'd want them if I were you!"

"You're evil," he sighed.

Mark smiled demonically. 

Dane was almost glad when they dropped him off at his office so he could "go into damage control". 

He asked the driver to take a round-about route back to Sarah's, scared that paps would follow him – and if he was honest he was also buying a bit more time. The paps would no doubt be camped out at his place so a call to his assistant Paul had him beefing up security at both places as well as putting things in place for Sarah and the baby if they wanted to leave the house. Then he organised for Paul to get some more clothes. He couldn't go home, he and Sarah lived too near each other and Paul would be spotted and followed, so he had to rely on what the younger man, with his slightly purple hair and docs, could buy him.

It would be interesting but living in hipster clothes for the next month was the least of his worries.

His next call was to his management in the US who naturally wanted him over there for crisis talks. But he couldn't leave, even if Sarah kicked him out on the streets (and there was a big chance she would) he couldn't leave her or the baby. A compromise was reached and representatives would fly in as soon as they could get flights.

He was a dead man.

He finished his call and slumped against the backseat of the town car looking out the window; he was almost home – approaching from a completely different direction to normal, but almost there.

Dane took a deep breath as the car cruised into a parking spot just outside Sarah's house.

"Good luck Dane and congratulations," Rob his regular driver offered as he alighted the vehicle.

"Thank you – I think I'm going to need it," he said as he mounted the stairs wearily.

"You'd better believe it," Rob muttered as he saw Dane use the keys to let himself in – well at least she wasn't standing at the door with the rolling pin.

Dane opened the door slowly but there was no sign of Sarah in the hall. He didn't call out in case he'd got lucky and both she and Lysander were sleeping but his luck ran out as he entered the kitchen/living room area at the back.

She was there, standing on the other side near the kitchen bench, way too close to the knife block for Dane's comfort, glaring at him.

He took a deep breath, steeled his resolve and walked to her.

"I can't believe you've done this," were the first words from her mouth, shaking her head as he neared her.

Here goes nothing, he thought.

"I claimed my son – our son for the whole world to see, I claimed us, no more hiding or pretending," he said putting his hands on her arms and shaking her gently.

"I thought you'd be pleased."

His blue eyes drooped spaniel puppy-like and Sarah took her own deep, deep breath.

"Did you plan it?" she asked in the evenest tone she could muster.

He was looking straight into her eyes now, straight into her soul, she tried to turn away but anger made her stay focused, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

"No," he admitted with a sigh. "I was tired and excited and thinking of you and Lysander and it all just slipped out, I couldn't stop myself and then once it happened, I couldn't go back.

"I don't regret it though!"

His eyes were wide and she could see he didn't regret it, part of her wanted to hug him and tell him it was a beautiful gesture. But only part of her.

"You will when your management gets hold of you, your fans," she said shaking her head again.

"It's a wonder Mark didn't have a coronary on the spot. Your carefully orchestrated image was thrown out the window in one interview."

"Mark wasn't best pleased, but what Mark thinks doesn't matter, my management doesn't matter – Fox you're the only one that matters – I need to know how you're feeling?" his eyes went wide and she sighed deeply, never a good sign.

"Exposed," she said simply still shaking her head.

"And worried, you have devoted fans but I'm sure, out there among them, are some crackpots; suddenly you've dropped this on them. You've told the world and the media you have a child on the most watched morning show in the country–  I had to turn my phone off.

"And all this when all I wanted to think about was my baby, to take time to heal and to work out what the hell I'm doing and now I have all this shit to deal with Dane.

"We take one step forward and two back. I can't deal with it anymore. I can't."

She twisted out of his grasp and sat heavily on the lounge her head her hands and sobbed. It was all going well, so well and now; now it was all going to hell in a hand basket. She was better off on her own, better off without all the complications and grief.

"I want you to leave," she said finally as she looked up at him through angry tear-laden eyes.

But it was then that Margaret, who ducked into the pantry with the baby when she saw Dane coming home, not able escape and not wanting to intrude, came out of the closet –literally - much to Dane's surprise. He'd kind of forgotten she was there, that he'd have to face her too.

He really was a dead man.

"This young man needs his mummy," she said matter-of-factly going over to Sarah and plonking the baby in her arms before she could protest.Then she reached up on her tiptoes, grabbed Dane by the ear and dragged him away from Sarah and the babe.

"And so does this one!" she said sternly tweaking his ear hard.

"Ow," Dane yelled, swatting her hand away. The day was going from worse to complete shit. He didn't have one strong independent woman to deal with but two and neither of them were going to make life easy for him.

"Muuuuum I'm not five – I'm a man, a grown man with a family of my own, I'm a father," he protested.

"For one day," Sarah mumbled, a comment that earned her a sour look from Dane. 

No they weren't going to make it easy for him.

"My point is," he continued coming back and sitting on his haunches in front of Sarah's chair. "I'm not going anywhere, you are my family, I love you and Lysander, you can tell me to go but I won't. I'll sleep on a camp stretcher in your office, I'll sleep down here on the couch but you aren't getting rid of me Sarah. But I'm his dad and even if you don't want me as your partner, your husband, I'm still your best friend and you don't get rid me this easily. I know I fucked up Sarah but only because I love you and our son," he said running a knuckle down her cheek lovingly.

She still looked like thunder but she didn't look like she wanted to kill him, not right then.

"Take your son!" she said suddenly thrusting the little bundle toward him. He took the child and she pulled herself up gingerly, feeling stiff and sore all over after giving birth the day before. The nurse would be in to visit her in an hour and she needed to shower, to feel human and to get away from him before she took to his genitals with a carving knife, or worse – forgave him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, hugging his son – who had managed to sleep through the whole thing.

"To set up the camp bed, if you're not leaving you've got to sleep somewhere!"she grumbled, Tom thought better of smiling but Margaret couldn't hide her delight. She might get to wear the new hat she'd bought for their wedding yet!